Sistine Chapel, the Creation of Adam. The penis doesn't matter, look how small it is. I used to walk into a bar like I was a man. No man would care. Would he? No man would touch me, nor would I touch any man. No man could. Could I? Would I? I'd talk like a man, walk like a man... Penisneid, Freud? Envy? Of what? The red chakra, the sexual one, is the base one nothing more. Located near the bottom of the spine, where a meditator sits upon. Sure, man needs to reproduce to go on. So does woman, right? Then follow orange, yellow, green and many colours more. Purple rests beyond the shore. Where Nietzsche found the Übermensch to be - the one, the creature to have overcome man, and woman alike. He can? How doth she go on without anyone to lean on. The core comes alive amidst the colours of sensual sensations: touch, food and lore. Earthly creature is a body bound by desires driven by the will to live more. To go beyond the base desires, the basic needs of life's demands. To overcome the diminutive surface shell of survival and rise above along the tight rope which is human a paradox play of animal and spirit, lonely creature severed with the freedom of will. No longer group conscious, not yet become One. Straight shot, lightning boult from the ultimate Source of unconditional love - whatever that means - can one even be sure?
