Perseid, Pacing, Pulse

There's something about astronomy that alleviates me of the suffering of being alive. Suffering in the Buddhist sense, in that every step we make through our lives is guided by desires and attachments that can do nothing but cause us pain in the end. And somehow under that starry sky, meteors blazing and feeling the time drain away from my futile attempts, I come to the conclusion that I'm not really afraid of anything. That I will tell You anything if You ask. And I've only lied once, but my hand was forced.

And I used to think, so naively, that I had some understanding of what the meaning of life was. Or that it would be possible to distill 20-some-odd years of drug-addled, infuriated and stunted experience into some kind of liturgical and comprehensive Truth. The only thing I know is that, whatever our aims, we must be willing to risk and endure pain and curl up child-like in corners begging the empty sky for forgiveness. And I feel like I am coming up to the point at which every aspect of my life is fair game; everything a potential sacrifice so that I can really feel alive for a few moments. Sanity, comfort, health, reputation, personal expectations, the razor-wire I've enveloped my heart in . . .all of it gone if I can just really feel something. There's a notion, Nietzschean but also much older, that the penultimate stage of our transcendence is to become a child: once the desert has been crossed, and the dragon slain, we must become history-less, infinitely fascinated, a creature of creation and absorption. Most importantly a naked thing, wide-eyed and fearless.

Mook: some lines because I was afraid to spit them when the mic was figuratively passed:

Fabricate a city from the fragments of our absent astronomics, the streets and structures' spindles the tails of speeding comets. And pretend for just a moment that all this children's screaming's histrionics. And a geologic blink in time the sign we've done nothing since we started.

The last time I saw the stars I stood apart from all of this. And the first time I felt the stars I fell down blind and calmly. And the only time I touched your star I could not wash your eyes off me.