Everything Collapses

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“In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.”
― Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies

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Have you ever spied on the lone figure of a person.

Not because you were a creepy stalker, obsessed with them because of yourself, making them the vessel for all of your crazy juice.

But because you just happened to see someone doing something on their own, and they caught your mind’s eye.

Sometimes the most idyllic community is someone communing with themselves.

There is a peacefulness about them even if they are far from peaceful inside. They’re doing their own thing. Dealing with their own inner chaos by themselves and not pouring it into someone else and forcing someone else to drink of a burden which they don’t want to drink.

I prefer crazy people who know they are crazy and take some alone time to figure it out by themselves, realising this is their problem (even if it involves others somehow), than those who think they’re sane (because they never look inside) and think everyone else is insane (because they project their insides onto the outsides of others).

Those who know they are crazy, usually know others are crazy too (it’s a human thing), they accept this in a natural way and… you can relax sometimes in their company. Really relax, let it all hang out a bit without needing to worry about the spillage. You know what’s yours, they know what’s theirs, sometimes the two blend a bit, but it’s okay because you know your own blends.

Those who think they’re sane and everyone else is crazy… you can never relax around them because you don’t know who you are when you’re with them. Their spillage is yours – yours is horrific to them. They’re always changing the rules, trying to control every molecule to be how they want reality to be to suit their fears and things along those lines.

My ideal community is one which realises that the concept of an ideal community is… an everything which collapses.

Sit around the campfire and burn it all away, watch it burn, use it as fuel. Then paint yourself with the ashes and claim what is yours as yours, let others claim what is theirs as theirs. None of us are clean, there’s poetry in the dirty.

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AROUND A CAMPFIRE A GROUP OF PEOPLE SIT IN SPIRITUAL COMMUNION.

KEYNOTE: The necessity to unite with kindred spirits as one enters unbeaten paths illumined by the still-insecure light of a dawning intuition of new values.

Sabian Symbol for Libra 4°