BadGoodBadGoodBadGoodBadGood
is how I reconcile myself now. I am not either/or, but a strict combination.
Living in Bad/Good extremes has been both horrifying and necessary for me. Attraction and repulsion rattled around in my mind and body and the experience became what I describe as good art, limitless (at least in the mortals sense of limit). These extremes perpetuated the suffering, which continuously invoked that violent internal movement. Our Bad Good call seduced one another into little discretion, and forced us to question if this sort of strength in our oneness was just too much.
In retrospect, I know I was cursed with a spell. You know who did it, don't you? Who cast the good/bad spell I mean? It was that witch, the one who hides on the insides of wine bottles in place of the message. The witch stole my message haven and after, well just ask him how many different people he met that summer inside my one body.
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We are all responsible
These categories
We categorize ourselves and each other and a hierarchy is inherent (bad over good; male/female; straight/gay; social constructs with violent repercussions)
We categorize, group together, and draw these lines in the sand about ourselves, but most dangerously, about one another.
Deconstruct
Deconstruct
Deconstruct
these false hierarchies
Do not subvert
Deconstruct these and know that we know of extremes, of opposites, we understand bad because we know good; thus they are not opposites or extremes, rather, they are the same; we understand the opposite, the opposing ends of the spectrum for knowledge of its opposite. The definition of the one is inherent in the other - its meaning is dependent upon its "opposite" and so how could one know "pain" if not for knowing what not-pain is by contrast? At what point does pain start to feel too good? How would we ever know what the 2/3 towards the black end was like if we didn't also know the 3/4 mark towards the white? black/white; racial or rainbow? Light/Dark?
Are you telling me you're facing Derrida, Deleuze AND Foucault right now? These men. These men.
Lines in the sand are erasable
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