Changing, Recreation, Decisions.

Over the course of a great many sessions, seasons, etc., I have come to understand my insanity and its varying degrees of total and complete madness.  They happen a lot.  I can't help but change.  I can't help but reflect.  Hey!  Maybe there's not as much stitched together as I imagine.  There's a lot of cover in the jungles of my mind, and I wonder who I let live after the last Tour, whether they spawned children in my absence and are now stalking the bushes for a scent of my conscious mind, to subdue it and replace its reign with a figurehead of their own creation.  It's not like any of us are granted a can of napalm in this regard...unless, of course, we use aluminum based anti-antiperspirant.

Because it's time to re-create, which means calling back to old tricks while looking to new models.  I hope I have the right models, and a tether back home.  A tether back home.  A refrain has the power to call back an old emotion in a prior movement, congealing the repetition with a strange force.  Gagaism, Vorticist theory.  Yes.  Something about my current project and reading is calling back to T.S. Eliot.  Landscape a canyon but remove the river, and you have Mars, impotent, violently removed of life, immortal as stone.  For this is about solidification.

And validation.  Am I making the right me?  Hard decisions, no perfect solutions but the ones we dream, but those dreams cannot survive without reality, so in their inherent limitations, falsehoods, exaggerations and multiple permutations, they become flawed.  But every decision is flawed, so keep dreaming, you know, because no one is better suited to judge you than those selves you can't get over, and that can't help but not get over you.