Platonic Rausch* (New Moon in Aries)

Who retells stories so well that they linger for many millenia? Are these stories even true?

Philosophy doesn’t merely happen outside the cave in the light of day. Nay, philosophy happens already in the cave, where it is not a world of shadows cast by anonymous flames, but light shining forth from within each existential prisoner (human being).

Philosophy has often historically appeared to me as something Bohemian, a Rausch affordable to those with “time to think”, the leisure of surrounding oneself with certain creaturely comforts, like furniture, garments, pillows, scriptures, servants, art and so forth. Philosophy, a thing for the privileged enlightened souls who become liberated….

Liberated from the woes of the cave? Liberated from the woes of the day. Nay, philosophy is always happening, in broad daylight (land, air, surface water etc) as in the “darkest” cave (deep ocean, subterranean earth, mountain holes, human souls). The stars become alight in the cave in the form of organic shapes painted by eyes of fire. What about the atoms of light everywhere, and the shadows of atoms in light? Yin Yang anyone? Is there such a thing as “pure” light (Heaven) or no shadows (Nirvana)? For there to be shadows, there must be light. Is light not a matter of the physical world after all? What lies beyond light, darkenss and shadows is what I want to know. Beyond inside and outside galactic, terrestrial and existential caves. What awaits the seeker who makes it there?

But why listen to this proletarian-bougie turn-of-the-twenty-first-century sexually mature middle-aged woman posing as a contemporary philospher? One who suffers from ADHDD - Attenteion Deficit Hyperactivity Depressive Disorder. To use contemporary terminology...

Biological Context

I've been bleeding periodically for 30 years. My first blood dropped when I was twelve. For decades now my body with moonthly imprecision will oscillate between creation and destruction. It builds up matter for growing a temporary organ to build entire organisms and in a matter of days destroys the whole damn thing and expulses it violently, bloodily from myself. To then hyperactively rebuild and seek with sexual and other sensual impulses fertil ground. To then depress in the heaviness and flow of the lightest and darkest of blood. And this in a matter of weeks every month for decades. Again and again and again and again. A short-interval long-term pendulum swinging between uppity creative energy and intense inevitable destructive force.

I'm obviously ovulating now. How fitting for the beginning of spring with a New Moon in Aries. I am afflicted with every-man-could-make-me-turn-my-head energy. Sure, homosexuality and bisexuality might arouse me. But there is nothing in the world that fascinates me more than men, drawing me in with a magnetic force unrivaled by reason. Particularly those of my generation, kindred men. I seek to see them, know them, only to never fully understand them and remain a woman lost in the exhilarating beauty of their mystery. I am convinced this is a biological disposition of the wise and foolish organism I inahbit. This biological context must be further explored. In the meantime, a shorty I wrote a while back, an ode to men:

Imagined Joy I saw a half-naked runner as I drove the children to their class but I felt too depressed to care. Then I thought: "Better look at him than feel the shit pain." As I glanced back at him he appeared to touch his face self-consciously. "Why run around like that and expect not to get looked at?" I wondered compulsively. I would have loved to see his cock and balls bounce around as he ran.

Psychological Context

I grew up with an alcoholic father who loved to hate me. A mother who adored me as a mirculous first-born because she had lost two children before. I was hugging whiskey and cognac bottles before I had learned to crawl in smokey appartments rubbing cigarettes and tobacco between my baby hands. Got drunk for the first time when I was five. ... I just thought of a meme I saw recently, which states: "Ah, the 80s... when a kid would blow our their birthday candles over top of an ashtray, a foot away from an open beer, while someone held a lit cigar next to their face."

Now I must abruptly conclude this unfinished post. Motherly and domestic duties abound. Later, ballet. Body-mind entering a new phase in mid-life transformational development through study and training. More on this later.

To be continued ...

Thank you New Moon in Aries for the vibes of initiation, initiative, assertive action and brutal honesty!

*Rausch - German for frenzy, intoxication, rapture, exhilaration, rush ...