I go to the movies sometimes

It'aint necessarily so

    It just ain't necessarily

so

The things that you're liable (libel? slander, defamation of the Black Christ of the Andes) to read in the bible (halo riot of a/typical prince)          it ain't necessarily   so   

Post-exertion sweetness

  

So misremembering is the essence of imagination?

There is a Chinese legend about a boy with a magic paintbrush. Somebody did a picture-book version, which I saw on Reading Rainbow. I guess I have never forgotten. The boy is given a magic paintbrush and he begins to paint and all hell breaks loose. He paints Chinese dragons writhing in the sea and they come to life. The water that he has painted floods his room. He has numerous adventures, and is borne to far-away lands, buffeted by the crazy fecundity of his own mind, the billowing hills and rushing whitewater. He’s a little bit intoxicated with his brush. But the real problem is that art come to life is essentially—it’s just reality. He can’t color or inflect it the way he could with art that stayed on the canvas. And so he finally develops a technique: if he leaves just one thing out, so it isn’t quite real, it can’t come to life. By the close of the story he’s leaving one eye out every time he paints a deer

 

Thus

You love not what we are, but that we are, and the vernacular of our misunderstandings enters as second chances. Repetition becomes negation and negation rebirth and the sun is laced with disclosures and who you callin a ho gets blurted out whenever possible over allegro piano solos you let the phone keep on ringing-- It's the kind where the buttons light up and glow when it does and that's the one shimmer in the room and the declaration of difference has made blackness irresistible even to itself, an addiction, a pathological elegance, or a flag or a flame or life itself

Unconditional Soul

Toward the Divine Feminine by Brightmoments on Mixcloud

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