Dancing the dance called life

taken from ANARCHY OF SPIRIT: an epistle for ridiculous times,  from early writings by Jack Haas: this is a rare, online book

page 9


Why did this whole crazy show come about? I do not know. I only know that it came about.

It was as if I lived a manic descent from unbeing into being; I did not understand, nor choose, nor control my harrowing plunge. But when I landed, I hit with a thud that would have killed me if I wasn't an undying thing. That is how I was able to get back up and walk onward, wiped clean-through by the flames of my agonizing re-entry. And when that happens- when the kenosis has come full circle, and you're alive and dead, alien and belonging, strong and yet broken- that is when the real work begins. That is when you bring the fire back to earth- acquired for the men who will misunderstand and inevitably hate you, stolen from the powers who will curse even your good. So be it.

No one knows me now. No one. What seeks to contain me is death, what seeks to define me is blind.

I have not so much of a further story to tell, but a lie to untell.

I do not recognize myself in context, I only operate within it. I have come from the region of exasperation, and have found life devoid of my call.

There is no truth, no reality, no lesson issued from mankind that I consider worthy or even necessary now. I adhere to nothing. There are only deceits, delusions, cowardices and failures in every form, under every guise, all glued together with the fetid paste of inertia and guilt, and formed into a splendid mass of decay called society. It is all worse than useless, because it is thoroughly misleading, and no one can convince me otherwise.

It was a wild and unconventional path I walked learning that every decision was left to me, and to me alone; to spit in the face of absurdity, to live completely in the freedom of the day, to find my own true name. For in the end there was one Law, and one Law only to which I was bound, and that Law was... to be Myself.

It had been a splendid metaphysical intoxication which had hemmed me earlier into being, an unharnessable freedom which roamed about my cage. And then finally, through that dynamic haze ensconcing every moment, I found myself dancing- yes dancing- in wild, blind ecstasy, through the mad and drunken night, to the rhythm which I alone heard, and which no other heard above their own.

Dancing the dance called life. The beat and love rushed through me, the flesh gushed pain and joy from the memory of the untameable soul.

It was a thundering chaos of beauty and anguish, and the squirming of love's loss in between. I was filled beyond repair, and emptied for the heart to heal despair. The rules had been erased, the truth was long deceased, now it was my turn to fuel the fire of madness and release. I was already returning to the land of rapture and awe, lifted out of life, away from the term of our exile, by the very force which sent me there. I was going home.






Early writings by Jack Haas: a rare, online book.










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