Jump!  It is a hunger.  A need.  Insatiable.  To the cliffs!  To the blackness!  Jump.  Grab the hand of Fear and smile.  Fear is neither Enemy nor even Stranger.  We are Fear.  We standing in the shadow of our Ignorance.  Our cliffs are but the line to this Shadow; that which separates our Present Now and Future To Be.  Together spread arms and jump.  Jump!  JUMP!  Even in the breaking of bones, in the crush of organs there is no Pain That Kills.  Pain is but mere notes from a song sung Time Immemorial; a song we sing off-key when we refuse the Vision; refusing to accept We as Who Always Were and Who Always Will Be.  It is a gift the re-knitting of Now Self into Truer Self.  Sup at the teats of Ignorance’s breasts, her’s a murky blackness as sustaining, as nourishing, as nurturing as Mother’s Milk.  Smile kindly on Fear.  We are more tripped than tripping when we stand There at the precipice unmoving.  So be tripped and in so being tripped fly into freedom.  Turn then to Nyx.  Turn now to her Father.  Turn toward Blackness Absolute.  Jump.

Author: Ward

I’m the creator and operator of this little corner of the internets, writing on all things related to art and more specifically my experiences trying to figure this whole thing out. I guess I’m trying to figure out life, too, but mostly I just post about art here.

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