[41]
Do you want to walk along? Or walk ahead? Or walk by yourself? One must know what one wants and that one wants. Fourth question of conscience.*
(Yes, yes and yes.)
An unrestrained crowd walks quietly in my dreams. Breaking new paths in this city. Trumping down all that is asleep and protecting everything that is awake and still beautiful; an unrestrained crowd in my dream knows how to be merciful and compassionate; an unrestrained crowd forcibly clashes chest to chest until the ribcage breaks and the inside spills out. We do not know why, and this further ignites us.
My place is inside the crowd. An endless desire to rub against. I want to clash against you – the kingdom of man.
I walk ahead, between what is heavy and what is light, with a clear direction and a fear of death.
Come with me, behind me and by my side, and I will head and tail you.
Let us pace together towards the unknown that is mine alone.
You are at my back and this is a direction; direction is a power, and it weighs down the legs onwards. Until the heavy turns beautiful.
I lead a crowd to a circle. Let us forget head from tail, now we walk together.
Some actions need taking, and some differences need differentiating so we can be a single note of action.
This quiet – a single, balanced line, the horizon line, stretched between one kilogram of diamonds and one kilograms of feathers – is spun by planet Earth.
The curse is that heaviness isn't light.
The curse is that whatever is light is effaced.
The curse is that heaviness hasn’t turned to mass yet.
The curse is that we carry a heavy weight.
If one day all the people in the world assemble, bend their knees and leap all that is heavy in them up and away – what will happen to Earth's heart when they land?
[21]
One should adopt only those situations in which one is in no need of sham virtues, but rather, like the tight-rope dancer on his tight rope, in which one must either fall or stand—or escape.*
A true story, a case study:
Anything that should have happened or would have been right to happen no longer exists here. Body now reality time and I am inside a screen running as hard as I can to clash. I am a group of youth. I am watching and it is not right. It should have been different. And if different, better. But the thread is tight, and I am up there, now we do everything to dance on a rope. With what there is, and especially with all there isn't. How were things supposed to be done, and what are the erroneous circumstances that led me to this moment – bullshit.
Dancing = rubbing against the fact of me being flesh.
My rope is the horizon. Where heaven and earth meet and create the beauty of sunsets and sunrises. I am in the landscape, dancing on the densest, most compressed in-between there is, the point of separation and unification. I join the great opposition movement, fighting the forces that are weighing down, placing myself up, on the sky's side.
The horizon is the farthest-away you can see, the line of abyss of the great secret. From up there, I peak at what happens after the end.
When you dance on a rope, time is a heavy weight. On the other side of the scales, I place light-mindedness.
My mind is light, and it escapes everything that this moment makes seem necessary. The presence of silence doesn't matter, my mind is made of a thousand octopuses. The senses are sharp and awake. Life seizes an absolute control of me. I pour more fuel into the fire that melts heaviness into gold. In a disrupted steering act, I clash into the waves with all my might until this ship shatters and its parts are scattered across the oceans. (you cannot be everywhere with one whole well-built boat).
From my heart, I dance the heaviness of my flesh. I send body parts everywhere, mixing what is separate and absolute, I hurl myself into the abyss of truth and emerge unharmed.
[10]
A man should not play the coward to his deeds. He should not repudiate them once he has performed them.*
The barrel is aimed straight at the invisible. At the unintentional. Inadvertently, I killed the last albino lion.
It is exciting to plan destruction, to intentionally do something that will make a world collapse. Everything that collapses clears off space. And it is very crowded here indeed.
To destroy unintentionally; I need great powers to destroy by mistake and enjoy after the fact.
Cowardness spills out of what drips unintentionally.
I put the blame on blame, a cruel, parasite worm squeezing me inwards. Blame, its weight in iron, drags me down hard.
One thing I know well, to ignore the power of heaviness; all you need to do is lie down on the ground and fall asleep.
In my dream, a great love for broken things awakens; birthmarks, a missing finger, compressed, folded skin, spelling mistakes.
Help. I call my friends to come and help me carry. We walk together with missing limbs under a heavy weight, intentions and adequate actions. Heaviness, too, is a friend.
Trying to grab at the tail of the opposite of abandon. I pull and pull until I see someone's always loving mother, even if he murdered the prime minister. Are you compassionate?
[26]
I distrust all systematisers, and avoid them. The will to a system, shows a lack of honesty.*
I am a champion of planning the orders of the plate, which bite comes when. I have excellent ways of ignoring gravity. I know maneuvers that can change authoritative hearts. I know how to steal at the grocery store and escape unharmed. I am skilled at glorious crashes.
All you method inventors, book writers, street mansplainers, don’t invent new methods for me to get addicted to. My life is not a data sheet and I never agreed to organize my room. I am not a step on the way to a position of power, I am a step downwards. All my life my father used to say it's better to be smart than right.
I will not try to propagate my methods, I play catch with dread. I take pleasure in games and have no pretensions of winning.
There are no easy solutions, there is a light mind. And a heavy body.
Come down with me.
The will to a system points to a horror of disorder and incertitude, it is the will to own a method which points to an unstraightforwardness. There is no one organized way for escaping incertitude, and I feel compassion for all those who forcibly try to maintain equations of life. About straightforwardness – I am not sure why straight is necessary, and who sets the standard, as far as I am concerned, we can bend by free will and adventure.
I am on the side of decentralization, detachment, meaninglessness, laughter!
(Truth is not a method.)
A revolution.
At the heart of a minefield I stand on my head and reverse the flow order.
Whatever holds, holds, whatever is redundant – slips.
Intimacy and revolution are one and the same.
Tears dropping on my forehead, a longing for the heavy security of a giant body.
We have no method for being rescued – shadow has no weight, reflection has no weight, the body does.
We must not ignore the sense of heaviness
Delaying a falling mass requires skill.
At a time of great excitement clumsiness prevails.
We are clumsy, shaking from effort under a huge sun. We are so beautiful.
A great tiredness makes our eyelids heavy so we can easily slip into an abyss of dreams.
We suspend the cadence of the fall,
We are drifting,
We cry upside down and crash into a big pile.
October, 2020
* Nietzsche, F. Twilight of the Idols.