Adame Edere

I intend on having no intent. I have taken an action of inaction.  I wish to achieve absolutely nothing.

This is my mantra, my vehicle from which I surf the event horizon of my environment, and worse, my psyche.  An elaborate dance to find the center of self which is dictated by the rhythm of perception.  Harmony is the tattoo upon my flesh as an effort at physical and mental discipline. A discipline which is necessary for the passage through the gate named “evolution”, a gate shaped by my persona and is made up of a mirror that reflects the soul. The audacity of which is humbling, for its revelation is nothing new, just a mocking reminder of who I used to be. Aspirations simply to become, not essentially more, but something other than the chaos which has been forged by archetypes not of my choosing. 

As a child I had a habit of staring at the sky in wonderment, during adolescence the journey inward began.  Marveled by epiphanies and the similarities to the surrounding world, an addiction began. The constant need for association and definition by the position for which life has decided to dictate. Which initiated the neurosis of staring backwards, collecting ghosts as the years went past. Haunted by events and people who dared touch the object which has been the infatuation for too long. In time, lulled by the song of a demon named control, scars, infection, and open wounds started to form. Justified by ignorance, those places were frozen, not for the purpose of healing, just to stop the process. An effort to stymie the desecration of a microcosm. Holy this ice planet was called and stoicism was its personification, and its prison.

 The path between mercury and the sun, with earth eclipsed by the moon. The journey begins with a book named logos and a robe called stasis.