Thursday, April 17, 2014


I woke up today morning with the eldritch thought in my mind that i knew exactly how to deal with the grief that beset me. My mind was a kaleidoscope, each bit whirling, proliferating and reaching the bubble of apotheosis before bursting with inexpressible joy and a coruscation of intermingled colors. 

What i mourned was a nothingness,an absence. How can the non existent be mourned for when form, the inveterate sheath ,is absent to masquerade as a punitive superego. Rather i inhabited the tenebrous id, where roaming in the gloaming of blankness, i sought authentication but found redoubtable structures that rendered my ineluctability inadmissible.

Because i inhabited a discourse that was predicated on erasure i had only mnemonics and primordial propensities to fall back on. Yet the more i saw the ego patrolling with carillons of penumbral self righteousness the more i saw the precariousness of his intractability. Clearly the ego wanted me to turn against myself, berate myself remorselessly, unceasingly yet i choose to forge ahead, stippling my discursive space with its own self avowed, self created luminosity.

The work of mourning i did involved acknowledging the primevality underlying all phenomena, how i began and ended from a blank space whose darkness imbued everything with the patina of becoming. For the ego to emerge i had to be counterpointed as an antithesis. I don't seek to substitute for the go, i seek a synthesis.

It is insufficient for me to adumbrate my incandescence by merely asserting my indubitability. Through an imperceptible accretion i intend to erode the self aggrandizement of the ego. I've looked at my ontology from all angles, considered multifarious labyrinths. The darkness is unavoidable, my parthenogenesis.  O primal darkness, place of my birth, repository of my being, mosaic of my becoming make me what i become.