This is all you get, my dear. This breath in and out, this moment as it passes. This life. This is it.
Consequently. Any time you spend aloof, remote, abstracted, doing anything other than engaging sensuously and passionately with the world around you as it lives and breathes, as each living creature and leafy being crosses your path, as the light shifts from morning to evening to midnight…any time you falsify or deny that throbbing vitality at the center of things, is time you have wasted. You are a human being alive on the earth for just a short, short time. Wallow in it. Live.
Any creation of a human being, if it distracts you from the electric consummation of your own breath to breath love affair with reality in each moment, should make up for that in some way. If it is truly a distraction, then when you go back to your lover the world you should see it with new eyes. If you have been dreaming away your time being the most productive rat in the race for white collar rodents, it should awaken you from your slumber. If you are in pain, it should give you hope; if you are complacent, it should give you pain. Art should act on you like a witch’s kiss.
I am a witch. Kiss me. Things will never be the same. You might wind up in Faerie. You don’t know, and neither do I.
I won’t settle for less.