| labriit |
[Jan. 18th, 2022|11:02 am] |
Doing a gig in the local arts centre, I was beating something out in 4/4 time with this chick on guitar. It was trance like, and to the uninitiated quite boring, and there on the wall, or on the drum skin, or on a surface that had meaning to all concerned each beat opened a crack that spread beat by beat by beat into the continent of America. You could, in some way dive into the map there. Take a look at some of the tropical, exotic fruits grown by the locals in the spaces between the cities.
I realised afterwards lying in someone's arms that I was not homosexual in the same way that I was able to get my wallet back from some seedy type who had half-inched it at the cafe (I had left it by the till). I mean it is an analogy.
The guys who ran the gigs were punks in their sixties now probably, who were obsessed with urges. There was a bog in their office (I mean in the room of their office) where you could do a shit while you were drinking. Still, they were still mesmerised by the shamanic power of what had called them and was still in this dreamworld making manifest in the gig posters, feedback that could waft you out of grammar, and… I more or less tried to describe this to someone who was there, a mason now sitting on millions and driving hours each week through the childhood countryside to look after parents aged and suffering form strokes. “I get that” he said in English middle-aged managerial style. You get it, do you? That we are going to die and all that we decried subsumed will rise up outside our 4 walls full of appliances in maybe a mist or possibly a night crazed with stars, or snow dashed forest and ripped maps and hearts till you can’t describe it and thusly it disappears.
Ludzu: https://prolapse2.bandcamp.com/album/backsaturday-4 |
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We got a holiday from repression to go to Germany or some mall like that. One had to wear masks, but no-one did. We - the wife and I got split up straight away. I never know what to do in places like this with time on my hands. I knew I was supposed to go clothes shopping as finally I could try some trousers on, but I ended up in a massive book store. The guy wanted us all out - for some reason (time I guess - hysterical in a polite but authoritarian German)- and then I remembered what a grim facade these books thrust back in our faces. Stuff mental patients could read + some old classics, all ideologically wiping their covers down, as if there were crumples or unbecoming stains before placement on the shelves.
There were some classical music CDs - the best of Beethoven with - well all of them had pastoral covers.
Wondered into a cafe cos I could for a change. Full of young geezers - alluding to club action later that night with the fancy names of coffee being ordered - mods, basically.
Couldn’t phone my wife- her phone had been taken as she had run out of money - I paid with the help of an off-duty copper I knew, who was basically a mother to all the lost souls there, and we - my spouse and I were reunited - didn’t recognise her at first - hair dressed out of understanding
Pint of Staburags…..
I ordered a pint of Staburags for 5 Euro, and everything in the dream was screaming at the artificiality of the world they have kicked you out of…
We descended - in living reality - into Riga, and my daughter comments on the significance of the phases of the moon, which prompts me to speculate on the use of astrological movements as a clock for the occult(ed). You know, let’s storm the winer palace when something or other is in scorpio, smash the communists on Walpurgis night and so on. “But does it really have a significance, or is it just because we think it has a significance that gives it that significance?” She ponders. Which prompted me talk about how movies can effect you, and for a few days you might act a little in the manner of some movie star, so it is with Jesus Christ, solely through whom, we can be saved. If we base our lives on him, then we have conjured him into being, regardless of whether he ever existed or not.
We stop the convo as her friend gets in the car. She, in a romantic way describes the scene over the park this morning, a beautiful mist cradling the moon which rested between two church spires.
Precisely. We are in ascendance.
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