retroshades

(or, be the eclipse you want to see in the world)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. the wrap-up that occurs with retrograde could be seen as the setting of a scene, time or era. A recapitulation that leads to a new beginning ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My bathroom sparkles like the stars I can’t clutch. 

 

 

 

 

 

A vision too tactile to inspire salvation trough reflection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s the key we reject.  Apathy.
 
 

 

 

 

 

Nothing is safe beneath these lights.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Always a shadow to comfort me.
 

 

 

 

 

A slip in the stream, doesn’t it always seam?
 

 

 

 

 

A penance for pleasure, an appliance for me to railroad my escape into relief.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Well baby in a nutshell that’s just all I see.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pulling out hair in doubt. …..I thrive in the dive.
 

 

 

 

 

 

And there is no meat on the grass for me. Green to the bone.
 

 

 

 

 

 

When will it appear to me?
 

 

 

 

 

 

The {matter} isn’t how far we are, but rather how hard the try.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s an analogy in there, a punch towards tempered skies.
 

 

 

 

 

 

There is no way. All tense is past.     
 

 

 

 

 

 

Gaslight.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Stars sinking beyond always.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grapple to pierce myths, but the sedation of lies tempers my resolve.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cook labyrinths in my kitchen of try.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I spend faster than I can die.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I audition to fall. Endless unrealized ambitions.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anxiety is sanctuary to me. Because baby I can never see why you are so afraid, but I am always so frail. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And together we can make a pair of wait and see.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A tightrope of self-medication, strung between try and deny.
 

 

 

 

 

 

My bedroom breathes truths to me, repressed desires masturbated into fires.
 

 

 

 

 

 

The sun breaks always too early, and never too late, but how can that be baby when maybe is all I see.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Terrestrial treasures are my most coveted bore.
 
 

 

 

 

 

Dripping digital anxiety, an estate of sublate.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have to come back to (G)eometry again and again, as that is always where, at least, my mind tends to lead, and I think we've already said that there are many geometries. One of which is in our choice of what we surround ourselves with, and the arrangements of our living and the scenes and objects we frequent. The lives of humans find their representations of stories, which have from the first long-ago tail been elaborated by the use of symbols and types. The analogical correspon[d(a|e)nces] by which yarns are spun have their foundation in the early days of the race, specifically our own early days. The lion and the sun, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How have people been hypnotized by their various currencies? What old mummies, embalmed long ago, protected by negative green, hold sway over the current hour? Has the power of the people become an agent in the deaths of men from past? When will we get past the mere material uses of symbolized, tokenized, human energy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smoke and spirits, Rising Fast, Turn the wheels of time. And once upon a time, These UNITED STATES (of mind), Hand a silverine mercurial dime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. it's either All Intelligence Is Artificial or No Intelligence Is Artificial .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. which sounds somewhat simplistic, I suppose one might think .. ironic, because that's exactly why I'm critical of people who say things like chatGPT are "just" whatever .. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. & the problem is with the "just", not the whatever .. it's definitive of reductionist thinking ..it's a slippery slope that leads directly to the deduction of the instru-mentality of reality to "merely" human ends .. & isn't that what got us into this mess in the first place..?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. a far more productive con ception of humanity's engagement with the world is that of a con versation between at least arguable equals .. each exchange a link in a chain .. that never began, & will never end ..

.. & speaking of links ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. all of magick can be derived from the con cept of magickal links ..

.. that there are tangible con nections between objects, thoughts or energies not just be they physically linked, but also on other planes, such as those of intellectual reflection or even resonance .. this underlies everything from the magickal ritual circle, to various tools, incantations, astrological correspondences, etc ..

.. indeed, many advanced magicians do not Work with rituals or spells at all, but with (bio)energetics in particular, & with energy fields in general ..

.. by setting up very simple recurring patterns demarcated by (a) space & (a) time, certain, shall we say, standing waves of habits are "programmed" into reality itself .. enfolded into a manifold that is thus indexed & can be linked to from various spaciotemporal locations or stations, either by the Working magician or even by others ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.. in this way, the spaciotemporal matrix itself is imbued with the qualities; the attributes & trajectories the magician seeks to explore, nurture & develop ..

.. it's worth noting that, following this trajectory, we're very far from at least the common understanding of chaos magick here, where things culminate in a climax ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 .. on the con trary, from this perspective, magick would ideally be a con stant & endless practice that is aLLways happening @LL the time .. needless to say, in order to function at that level, the magician requires a great deal of discipline & self-con trol ..