Palliativity 117: Wishing

Daruma: it's merely a flesh wound

Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to lose control— Watching a top spinning out just before it falls, a seductive dance between gravity and inertia. Entropy in the swaying hips of a lover; the catch of breath before the end.

I used to think that the battery-acid feeling of dread I experienced on occasion was tachyons surging backwards from the inevitable. Once you’ve split the atom, there’s no going back. Einstein unmaking reality in the physics of dreams, delivered to your doorstep at the speed of C.

“It’s so safe to play along.
Little soldiers in a row.
Falling in and out of love.
Something sweet to throw away.
I want something good to die for,
To make it beautiful to live.
I want a new mistake, losers more than hesitate.
Do you believe it in your head?”
– Queens of the Stone Age- Go With the Flow

Plato’s fantasy play of shadows doesn’t work in the land of burnt silhouettes. With art we split the fundamental particles of our dreams— creativity bursting out and backwards through time. Here’s wishing.

See you on the otherside—

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