Just back from Bread Fest, amazingly beautiful Horse Spirit Penetrates performance complete with leaf-filled wind vortex, menacing clouds. Still shaking, etc., intense waves of the full range of unpleasant emotions, been trying to write magical poems in my head to heal the world, too mentally disorganized to manage it, led to some semi-mystical experiences on walk home, basically esthetic in nature, seemed incredibly important & slipped away. Might get a phone call later about Deleuze and the body without organs, haven't thought about that in a long time, might have to fall back on anecdotes.

I'm a little flower, I'm nothing.

Rehearsing minor incantations to ward off evil, may prevent the spirits from entering during the time of danger, wheat is life. Saw a little girl at Bread Fest with a pink bicycle with a pink pearlescent bag attached to the handlebars that said 'Precious Pearl' in silver, her little sister had a baby doll with two bandaids on its forehead, imagined its third eye had been trying to open.

To feel a vocation to something which doesn't exist yet is hard, time is simultaneously fleeting & glacial, forming in liquid sedimentary layers, everything I love washed away in slow motion, every step a likely misstep, me & various species of nothing watching each other from the corners of our eyes.

Here are the facts: the absolute, mechanized by love, hovers above the multitudes and acts without reason. The others pour themselves out and flit around. Sound is different there as fear makes stacks of vibration in the sullen air. No reaction is sufficient, all are necessary, everyone is answerable, but no one calls.

I wish I could make you feel better, little figment.