Well, it does if in the year prior your psychically wedlocked Magick Man & you blasted away all remaining qlipphotic debris stuck to your soul from the interloper, the stranger, desert malingerer in a sex rite of L.V.X. that destroys everything in it’s wake not of it. Where coils of pulsating energy twine around your being like serpents. Right now though, we’ve finished some impromptu rehearsing in the room and what I feel instead is a blessed stillness. Blessed stillnesses are equally rare…
We made up for avoiding New Year’s Eve like the plague that it is by instead attending a New Year’s Day house gathering at our friend Enrico’s…worn and cozy L.E.S. splendor complete with floor to ceiling books where walls should be. It seems the mainstays of old skool New York apartments are scratched, chipped and distressed walls and floors, a “bichen”, and more books that the dwellers know what to do with.
Arriving home about a half hour after midnight, stopping at the corner because Eric has a sweet tooth and needs a pack of cookies, we get a text offering for us to open for Cult Of Youth at Nothing Changes, the show that will kick off their tour. I feel good blogging about this now because it’s already gone up on the Facebook page of the event:
Handguns begin to appear in front of my face as I type this. They hover between my eyes and the screen. I know there’s some symbol to interpret to seeing this here and now, but the crux of the matter is reaching what any given symbol may be in context.
Here’s part of another AK track “Upward”, with some video shot by Eric of subway painting:
And lovely YouTube algorhythm has decided that a good related video would be a balisong tutorial.❤❤❤