dominicvineoftheowls (dominicvine) wrote,

Blame. Responsibility. Power.

Story i've been telling:
I came here to help Leo die.
despite myself, i've been keeping him alive
he's been feeding off my life force
i've been dying

he worships in a death cult
it is his nature
i grew up in a death cult
i know them
my nature is to help
to die for you
make a sacrifice
all that shit
my nature is to put myself forward
to offer myself
in a desperate attempt to get you to change your mind
my nature is lazy
and wants you to do all the work
my nature offers myself up to you
i'll give you everything
if you'll do it all for me

what use is that?
he's dying.
i'm dying.

i'm tired of dying.
i want to live
(sing a song in my head)
i've got far enough into my life now
i'm far from birth, far from death
this point in our lives
where we cling to life most fastidiously
where we grasp. . .
this is where i am
i am here
and it is so.
Here I Am.

I want to live
what do i do with the Dying God?
my teddy bear
my stuff animal
my Death Bear
my bear that eats life
makes not use of its potentials
just sits
fat and miserable
pissing on everything

here it is
know it
once there was beauty and appreciation and love
call it "Cancer"
(why would the nurturing mother be Death?)

in some stories
the mother of the universe gave birth to the father of the universe
who created the daughter-- the world
and copulated with her to create all the 10,000 things

what was i talking about before?
i was talking about God (a story, don't nay-say stories, we need stories or nothing would make sense)
and is there Nothing inside of God?
everything that is is God
but where there is Not God is Nothing
or No,
where there is Not God
is the Mother.

the physical progeny of forcing Something (say "Knowledge" or, say "Memory") into Nothing
Fucking Something into Nothing
All that is
is a product of the child and the father
the child forgetting the father

We are Free
All Powerful
and All Knowing
We are Individual
and Exist within the Entire (God)
with permission from the Mother (Mother, May I? -- Yes, You May)

by choosing to forget our actions/truths
(those that hurt us, make us feel shame, etc etc)
we are permitted
by making space inside of ourselves
that space is Death
well, death isn't a bad thing (i'm a pretty boy)
but Death Un-Makes Life
how's it going to do it?
depends on how you choose it.

there is only I
there are billions of fragments
of course some are confuses, lost, blowing around.
what was i talking about?

Death Bear.
wishing for comfort
comfort from doing the work!
turning Mother and Father into one old Androgyne
and asking it to do all the work for the offspring
dying of shame
hshe dies.
that's what kids are for

I want to Live.
little things
little things
synthesizing fragments
telling stories
i'm sure that what i have to do is tell stories
these stories
more stories
act them out
sing songs
dance around
use my face

this is the lesson from his death
-- you cannot forget anything
do not use mother as a garbage heap
do the work do the work do the work

i'm sick because he's eating my life.
he's alive because i'm empathetically taking on his illness.
He's performing a grand mistake for me to see.

he's not existing in a state of blame.
he doesn't do that.
he's done the best that he knows how with the responsibility given to him to help people remember and know their stories
the greatest act in his story is one of sacrifice
my only duty is to help him not be afraid
and remember that he's doing this for the betterment of the rest of us
not escaping the horrible mess he cannot help but see
requires some broken

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