We are alive

I face it every single day.

I looked up, in a moment of sudden sober realization, crowd surfing the audience at a show in London back in 1994.

"I am not really a part of this am I?"

Bands?

We are drugs?!

We are used and spent.

Therapeutic tools. Fetishes. Dildo's. Phenomenal fuckdolls. Caffeine to reach the goal.

Hell of a thing?

Positions.

When you finally detach from the social position and identity that is "Artist" - I realized it is the most self-destructive position in the world...

Where butchers, bartenders and bricklayer will sell meat, beer and housing?

"Artists" are willfully giving away their... souls?

Certainly, turning oneself inside out - and putting on display?

Why?

A meaningless and false construct and position.

No one "deserves" art?

No one "deserves" laughing and dancing?

If we have access to the beauty and horror of God - we have it.

It's there.

Most don't.

Why would they deserve it?

Why would we give our lives?

Great artists who gain recognition, in various forms of performing stage art - all have experienced circumstances that has lead us to start over-extending.

Every single one.

Those who love deeply and shine the most brightly are toast.

And there it is.

Life is death in action.

We are burning men.

Every day.

Opinion means nothing.

Affect is pointless.

Intense emotion is mere distraction.

Politics lead nowhere.

It all serves to avoid the objective.

That which is.

If one practices discipline in action daily, one can - instead of throwing one's self away and remaining in illusion, confusion, friction and conflict - learn to focus on existing.

To exist so intensely - one seizes to exist.

People?

Well - I guess they deserve stuff like butter or jam?

That they can pay adequately for.

Tell your "artist" friends they need to shape up their fucking game.

No one cares.

Not really.

Folks just want their fix.

Cause they ain't got love.




Peter Dolving 26/3 2022