something-else

There was something else. It wasn’t Tracey tickling my rectum with her tongue ring all those years ago. It wasn’t orgasm being when there are lightening bolts surging through their body and thunder claps in the deepest recesses of their loins and perhaps rain.

It wasn’t Saul Williams talking about the history of Wall Street and how there’s still a marker there indicating the twelve foot wall the Dutch had built around their settlement after confusing the Lanape who thought the fee for the “purchase” of the land were a gift regarding all the help they’d provided in onboarding the newcomers.

It could have been about how much work it is to get active with a new music release and performing and how that ninety percent perspiration is perhaps when you are young the learning and practicing but as age and survival come in it becomes selling, promoting, networking, marketing, fundraising.

Mike Shockley and David Baulch have both compared our work to that of Bertolt Brecht. Who the fuck is this guy?

But it wasn’t that either.

Was it about boundaries and whether or not it’s okay to talk about pussies and rectums here?

Was it about the correspondence between the planets and the chakras which Cassandra Cussack was explaining at the Pensacola Arts Market the other day?

Moon third eye.

Jupiter the expansive second, creative sexual chakra.

Saturn perhaps the sustenance-oriented root?

Fuck commas.

No, it was something else. It wasn’t any of the above. Must have been D then. None of the above.

There was something that wanted to fucking be documented and it still isn’t and it’s getting late.

What’s getting late? Time is getting late? Time apparently doesn’t exist or it is one with space or something and that STILL isn’t it.

Sitting in the little hood rich laundry room sauna there was something that wanted to be re-fucking-corded.

How do you remember shit when you know there’s a thing in there.

Rivka would say you just wait until something reminds you of it.

Maybe the sauna knows. It’s probably still warm.

It was warm. And over five minutes it recalled the dead transmission, the dubious mushrooms from up the block following vomiting and following two days of fasting. It recalled the words ineradicable and traduce.

The thing however that really wanted to be documented seems to have been on a branch of thought further away from the currently accessible trunk and it’s getting cold so perhaps or perhaps not shall whatever it was be documented here.

Whatever it is or was surely it’s already been documented somewhere by someone or perhaps doesn’t really care at all.

Do thoughts have egos? Do egos have thoughts? Are lists of questions annoying? Is that a yes?

Mars of course at the solar plexus the center of will. Venus at the heart. Mercury at the throat the center of communication.

The Sun is associated with the crown chakra.

So there it isn’t.

–iLL

14/11/2024