Legends of actual arts—behavior of human spirits.
Feral minded, part tamed, part threshed.
The sin of wilderness, left to bushels—surrendering to time; battle of the brains, science of its religion. New World habits; Old World behaviors; we fight against schematics. Such insanity; to reach for something obscure. Brought into alignment, growing wildly, asking for one superior to fix inherence.
I was looking at life, (as if I’ve a clear perception), reflecting upon human instincts. In asking self about reality, seeing what’s loathed in one’s arsenal, once debated, one art, self-denouncement.
In an explanation, one undermines an audience, pointing to obvious pillars; artist to artist, psych to psych, counselor to counselor, or teacher to teacher—life is made easier, while complicated by unknowingness.
Such self-detraction, such self-evasiveness—core habits, dying for rightness, humans nonetheless. The fight is becoming unhuman. In denying self, it might be purer, biblic.
In seeking the best in souls, in outliving the contradiction, a sort of sadness envelopes beauty.
