❝ Just as does The Mayfly —
There was a moment in time, under a iridescent blinding light.
Where I shone so very bright and everything was alright.
I had in my grasp the flower of rejuvenation.
It’s nectar was desert rose, it’s sent jasmine carnation.
I was rapt by its blossoming beauty but it’s clasp and grip led me to take it for granted.
I placed it in a bouquet, my drops of dew sowed others too that I’d casually collected.
It was the time and place where I was made.
It’s now a haunting taste that I’m forbade.
For a ‘Naja haje’ snatched us apart one fang to our heart one to our soul.
Time gnawed away, memories darkened and heaven was rewritten as hell. — far from you, I shall die.
The Epic of Gilgamesh
The Epic of Gilgamesh
❝ S/he’s the unforgettable, ever-changing and eternally great being that consumes me in every single way.
— Tolstoy (1867) & Bidoonism (2020)
* Video One. — The Epic of Gilgamesh is the earliest substantive work of literature currently known to humankind; it was written down (etched with sun-dried, hand-sharpened Euphrates marsh reed quill into a freshly kneaded tablet of Tigris bank clay) by the Sumerians in c. 2,100 BC (yep.. over 4,000 years ago). In the video — retreived, youtu.be/QUcTsFe1PVs — you hear the opening lines of part of the epic, accompanied by a long-neck, three-string, Sumerian lute known as a “gish-gu-di.”
** Video Two. — Light in Babylon are a celebration of the cosmopolitan traditions of both Istanbul and its Sephardic Jewish community; wih the stunning voice of Elia Kamal and the beautiful sound of the “san-tur.”
*** Inspiration. — A lecture on The Epic of Gilgamesh, given in 2017 at the Harvard Semitic Museum by Andrew George (Professor of Babylonian, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London).
❝ Love will take us to higher plaines
Love makes us feel alive
Love is painful
Love kills ❞
❝ Thou hast the keys of Paradise, O just, subtle, and mighty Opium! ❞ — Thomas de Quincey
❝ There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve. ❞ — William S. Burroughs
❝ When you stop growing you start dying. ❞ — William S. Burroughs
📙 Confessions of an English Opium Eater
— Thomas de Quincey (1821)
Describing the surreal hallucinations, insomnia and nightmarish visions he experienced while consuming large quantities of opium, De Quincey waxes lyrical on the associated pleasures and pains. De Quincey arguably scrutinise his life, somewhat obsessively in an attempt to articulate and understand better his own identity. The work portrays a nervous (postmodern?) self-awareness, a spiralling obsession with the enigmas of one’s own composition and relative (in)significance.
Critics broadly agree that The Confessions forges a clear link between artistic self-expression and addiction. According to Martin Geeson, what makes the book technically remarkable is its use of a majestic neoclassical style to confessional writing (of the rather romantic kind). The Confessions is a work of immense sophistication and certainly one of the most impressive and influential of the autobiographies of that century. Moreover, there’s a general consensus that it paved the way for later generations of literary drug-takers from Charles P. Baudelaire — “always be a poet, even in prose” — to William S. Burroughs and Hunter S. Thompson.
— William S. Burroughs (1953)
Junky is semi-autobiographical work that focuses on Burroughs’ life as a drug user and dealer. It has come to be considered a seminal text on the lifestyle of heroin addicts in mid-20th c. America.
📙 Naked Lunch
— William S. Burroughs (1959)
Naked Lunch is structured as a series of loosely connected vignettes. These vignettes are drawn from Burroughs’ own experiences on the road and his addiction to drugs: heroin, morphine and, while in Morocco, majoun (which is a strong strain of hashish). The book was included in Time magazine’s “100 Best English-language Novels from 1923 to 2005.”
William S. Burroughs on 3/25/81 in Chicago, Il. (Photo by Paul Natkin/WireImage)
📙 Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
— Hunter S. Thompson (1971)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream is a 1971 novel by Hunter S. Thompson. The book is a roman à clef, rooted in his own autobiographical incidents. In a nutshell, the story follows its protagonist, Raoul Duke, and his attorney, Dr. Gonzo, as they descend on Las Vegas to chase the American Dream through a drug-induced haze, all the while ruminating on the failure of the 1960s counter-cultural movement. The preface quotes Samuel Johnson, “he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man” and this alludes to Duke’s drug-fueled existence which is undertaken in order to escape the coarse realities of American life — the conformism with consumption at the heart of the American Dream. The book is today noted for its lurid descriptions of drug use and its retrospective on the culture of the 1960s.
Stockholm syndrome is a psychological response. –
It occurs when hostages or abuse victims bond with their captors or abusers. –
This psychological connection develops over the course of the days, weeks, months, or even years of captivity or abuse.
❝ Love will tear us apart;
You’ve stolen my heart.
1) The second coming: Am I Dreaming?
2) Did I ruin you?
3) The second coming: Am I Dreaming?
4) Have you ruined me?
5) The second coming: Am I Dreaming?
6) A new beginning? The final ending?
Love will tear us apart;
You’ve stolen my heart. ❞
There was a time when I would walk & talk
the veneration was captivating
in those halcyon days, I’d silk and milk
the politicking was everything Statecraft through court intrigue (my modes were old)
Machiavelli gave the manuscript
my words writ power plays (and paid me gold)
yet Cromwell showed, class can never be stripped Tittle-Tattle, the cut of the devil
— time and tome tell us the weak will relent
Telltale Tit, most will be nowt but evil
— there ain’t no doubt that the meek will repent Not I, Adversity… I’ll catch stars;
for you, my dearest, I’ll spar yet with Mars.
• • • and all the dogs in the town
/ Shall each be fed a little bit