preferable to have had more background, historically and geographically, asthat darkness against which the lightning is seen to fork or to flash amidstthe gathering of angry clouds. It would have set the mood more. We knowtoo little, unless that is the intention: to have us know that we know too little —about ourselves! There is too little of the sulphur in this salt and too muchof the mercury, enough to have it run away with itself. I could almost have believed the story to be written in the masculine gender but for the distinctlyfeminine comment that
a woman makes love with a man in her mind a lot,before this happens on her bed.
For the man, making love is not too unlike awanting to go and make water, the very act a relief to have go and spend a penny on.
The river is neither the water nor its banks. It is not even their combination. The river is the flow—the flow of the water between the banks. And so are your feelings. Your feelings are the flow, the flow that results from your imbalance. Without imbalance you would be lifeless, in other terms dead. Your feelings are pure energy. And as such, they are your vessel towards your rescue, your encounter with God. Your imbalance is to beblessed.
is what he goes to see inside love-making! He’s more than a mere man of words, more perhaps than a man of his mere word. Rare are such beings! And if God is to be found through myfeelings as a lover to this sex magician, then God should be residing in hell!But through hell comes paradise; and through fumbling ignorance comesambidextrous enlightenment.He’s a man after the icon of our heart, here at the
Nome of Neith
: itself afortress of solitude connected to the mainland of sanity by a thin sliver. Notall that glitters is gold, as they say; but Alessio’s heirloom silverware bothgleams good silver and has about it recognised hallmarks of manufacture. Intalking the walk, he beautifully tells of how one can fall in love with a babyor a bird, or perhaps too a baby bird, as the very image in the mirror of the beloved to brook nothing other than love’s spell cast upon the unsuspectingvictim of magic’s misdirection, only to have the spell dashed to pieces withthe shattered mirror, with a run of seven years’ bad luck, upon seeing one’sold face, as if there is to be had any real difference the one to the other; yetthere appears to be a difference between one’s self and the ‘Other’ as thatvery self imposed upon one by others. We would not disagree except to saythat the ‘Other’ can represent the
to the self of the
; for before Buddha Gautama, spiritual bodies were authoritatively considered ashaving inherent properties; but that there exists the
, and therefore,logically, for there to exist the corollary to the
; there isSelf and there is Not Self or Other as Not Self. But these bodies go to bind