We drink for stupor. We drink to be stupid. To clear out all good sense from our head. All common sense.
We drink for encounters. We drink to meet the Outside. We drink to Reach … We drink to … Discover …
We drink to be ready. To raise our heads. To look up at the sky and to look through the sky … The system’s sky.
As if something from the sky could save us. Some catastrophe, reaching us from the sky. Some incursion. Some roaring from the heavens.
The sky. Something sees us up there. Something’s watching. On the other side of the night. Of endless space.
Someone’s eye is upon us. We do not live in vain. We do not drink in vain.
And that’s why we drink. To remember. To get up off our knees … And then to fall down again. For a moment’s respite …
Our method; our drunken method. To follow the drunken path, a little. Even as it meanders. Even as it appears to go nowhere. Even as it leads nowhere.
We want to see the absence of God. We want to see the empty sky.
Transcendence. We’re thirsty for transcendence. We drink for transcendence. To be reminded. That the world system isn’t complete. That this isn’t all there is. That the irruption can come from without, and only from without. That the revolution happens in the sky, the empty sky, the starless sky.
The divine Nothing. The Nothing as the divine. The divine absence. That’s what we’re waiting for. Absence as the divine. That leaves nothing standing. That spares no one.
Drunken prayer is more effective than sober prayer.
We want a miracle! A drunken miracle!
Work in Progress 