Rites of Passage

Those night sweats. Sometimes each night, and without warning, and without
reason, and worse in the cold where sheets are sodden & the bodies pimples
find themselves without friend in winter.

You´ve bought again into the wrong thing. And it didn´t come at a discounted price.

And there´s nothing going forward but austerity. And that is fine. That is how it
is. That is real life.

The exclusion of joy accepted in the name of going after it. Not fake but proper.
With the discipline and acceptance of what life is, or has named itself to be.

Food processed. Guzzled by the body in merciless hours where no one sees nothing
and for that reason has more value - but also more pathos. Those hours sweated by each
one of us in the name of dream. Always alone, and necessarily alone - it is a rite of
fucking passage.

And morning is relentless and doesn´t change its schedule for you. And winter might
wrestle with climate warming but it isn´t going with out a fight buster. And
if it does, it will be with the mother of all freezes - and you my friend, yes
you - you are not going to survive it.

I will of course. I am off to the Arctic Basin. I am going to mate with my austerity
and make new curses to the false names given to God by man.

I will breed relentlessly with the nothingness. And be enlightened in my futility. And I will
pay a glance back over my shoulder to my withering memories to make sure
they are truly dead, and have no longer cause to haunt me.

And loss? Yes loss always finds new ways to manifest. Innocence is measured
by the count-down to its ending. And for that reason it remains the most precious thing that ever existed on our little bit of rock.

I don´t care about the Sages, or the great books. That which throws a murderous
glance towards innocence will find nothing but obliteration from me. And that
makes the very nature of things my enemy. And in that I find my grievance with
God.

Not in my own fall - that is already fallen. But in that which is yet to fall, and
was given no fucking chance in the first place.

And it is not depressing or introverted. It is just the bare facts laid out cold, facts I am
okay with. Facts I will work with. There is something worth fighting for. And preserving it
is the greatest lost cause since time began. It is the most noble fight. And in that place,
and only that place, can we find holiness.