11.07.2016

HERstory: Absurdastan is where I dwell

Web of Absurdastan 


Absurdastan, at times, is a state of mind - unrelated to physical form. Currently, Absurdastan has coordinates. More so than coordinates, 'it' has a pulse. Although, I'm not sure what is running through this pulse currently... 

There seems to be an impasse, my allegiance to this Absurdastan. It's complicated. It's deal-breaker. It's HIStory. I need HERstory.

There are gradations of Absurdastan, depending on my mood. This morning the sky is limitless shades of grey happiness. I capture that grey mass and roll it up into a balance ball and bounce it up and down upon the soil, leaving a trail of greydation print clues to where 'this' continues.

HERstory, the IST collective, is oftentimes hilarious. As well, often enough comprises mundane life in the daily grind with no HI or LO to orate. 

HERstory at HER current Absurdastan fills volumes of disappearing parchment stained with art, myth, fairy tales, and religious and secular dis-ease and appease- whatever the preference. Hypno-pompic clues leading to hyper-reality, whatever 'that' is.

Becoming aware that chronological order has no space in Absurdastan aids the comfort zone of dwelling in Absurdastan, you see. I cultivate place for this space. This necessitates invoking elements attracted to this sacred space: Air, water, fire earth- conjure up that 5th element; you know the one, the one that has no face. It's elementally on, so let's clean this shitstorm up. The calm before has left the room; the elephant remains, as does the cacophony of huge silence... The guilt of silence is choking,
unbearable. 

Charmed, I'm sure. Conjure up a potion to break this silly chain of recent HISstory of my current Absurdastan. This Absurdastan is filled with sorrow and tired of the fight. This Absurdastan on a road to ruin. This war is absurd. I grow wary of this war. “The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting,”so thought Sun Tzu. True to this day for followers of wisdom.

The debris from the storm sucks up the pulse, the life energy, from my current Absurdastan coordinates. Time for damage control? Yes. More Sun Tzu for answers... 
 
Sun Tzo. I research his Art of War manifesto. Immediately drawn to #20, "Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him." This. This is HISstory in my current Absurdastan... I wish to retreat from HISstory. 

Meet me in Absurdastan. If can, can. If no can, no can.

'show' NOTES:
http://classics.mit.edu/Tzu/artwar.html