As a new writer I still find myself exploring ways to functionally write my ideas as best as possible. To remember the thoughts I had during an interaction later when I’m alone to be able to put together something comprehensible for others to read and then understand what I am attempting to show. Within this struggle I find myself trying to correct myself more than what’s likely necessary, because I care. Instead of wishing to extrapolate every unique thought into a detailed explanation of why its so I feel that the emotion and closeness with the writer begins to vanish. Now with the topics I spend my time obsessing over in thought I feel it is now a need to provide a warmth. The warmth of humanity. A naked hero.
There I was at the end of a disturbing shroom trip, recovering my cognition. Sat now in my mother’s living room where I was hoping the world waking up from outside may help me recover from my dissociative state of depression which is all too common of a feeling. It was in these moments I finally hit clarity with H’s most memorable line from his struggle where he articulated his contempt when he had gone into a bar simply to hear Jewish music playing. This was always a joke to a friend, often to gage their feelings on the JQ. But here’s where I found my own struggle forming. As I sat daydreaming about the broken diaspora of the world we live in, as my sister had now been watching some of their latest propaganda which is complete gaslighting on the hyper aroused political agenda and through looking at their symbolisms for a moment I realized that this level of insanity had been thought to been left behind forever in our ancient times. I had seen something that night which won’t be forgotten. My face in the mirror resembling Cronus’ face before going back to the devouring of his child. A resounding reminder of where I come from. I love reminding of the Aryan traits Zeus held, as the way we often remember these figures is for their grace and their majesties, their feats and accomplishments. We often leave out the crazed behavior, how dark and gruesome the cave of a man can really be. We forget that men like Hercules went through an insurmountable amount of anguish before really becoming something to remember. A cold reminder of the dualities always at play. Only confidence though, has grown in this man today. And sometimes that’s all you need.
2 replies on “look”
Very cool, thank you Sean!