“[I]t started off on an even keel. [Relatively speaking, for in her context he gate-crashed her basically, with the song “Age of Innocence” which had devastated her more than any of them, and in his choice she felt a premonition of the tact he would take in performance. This song (as well as others) were deliberately played at a faster a tempo she thought was too fast, as if to get it all over with; the ambivalent rock star came out to play. This was then re-balanced by the deliberate choice of “Wound”. Naturally by inserting “Pale Scales”, (which had been the intro in Europe), he sort of made “The Everlasting Gaze” the real starting salvo to the show once more. It came fourth, a blast as dark as it was.] “Tonight Tonight”, “To Sheila”, “Try, Try, Try” and “1979” came later. In the first section I participated happily and I was in bliss with “Try, Try, Try”. The lights were fantastic; for this song there were three shifting forms of orange and yellow light. I was very high. He appeared for a brief moment like an angel. The backdrop during the beginning was “The Soul as Living Proof”, looking like it was under rippling water. Perfect. I know that is what I have accomplished and I am resting in the accomplishment of my own awareness. It exists under the unconscious sea.
I decided in the beginning of the show that it was my choice to let Billy go, that that would be the way of loving him the most, my first questioning of the wisdom of the letter. I don’t want to disturb his life. I want him to have his girlfriend. [No one should have to lose anything to this.] -So I declared, I let you go. Then James Iha sang “Blew Away” and that really made it complete, because James is a part too and that is the level I want to keep it at. (I [had] simply [been] hoping [before, that] I could have both.)
“Glass and the Ghost Children” – “The Sacred & Profane” was not performed, but [was] the point. [It appears to have been the name she thought the Tour was titled under, and based on recordings this appears to be true; the assignation of “Black Wings” would come up later.] God’s participation is sacred; it is my assumption of it that is profanity. – He demolished me on the basis of my own assumptions; I’d assumed too much. I was destroyed by my own arrogance, completely reduced and obliterated by my own self-importance. [It was almost an attack based on his assumption that what he was singing about didn’t really exist, for he’d never encountered it. His emphasis of the mutual fear of the all seemed to lead into this fundamental doubt based in the existing unknown. “She can hear Glass calling, or is it someone who looks like me” – “For knowing is its own answer, love something in your books”]
I don’t think I can detect precisely where it began to dive. [But “I of the Mourning” rang with hollow melancholy, where the end became a growl and the personification of being trapped inside the radio transferred and shifted universally, coming across as almost manic. And that was where he inserted his own internal disintegration, the monologue that had originally come from “Glass & the Ghost Children”, his essential doubt rewound and until it came out at the speed of Alvin the chipmunk. “And I began thinking that this was the cause of all the negativity again” put on repeat, repeat, repeat. The trick to it all was that he turned it all over easy after making the appeal “believe in me as I believe in you, tonight is so right, tonight”; this became the form of the ultimate honey trap; “Blew Away” was like the last consignment to good-bye, and pointedly he did not sing it; it ended up coming across almost as a farewell salute before the dark test; “Try,Try,Try” did this personally, it turned out. Then “1979” –“you and I should meet, junebug skipping like a stone, headlights pointed at the dawn”.] There was a pre-conceptionist jibe, which was really funny, and his little exercise in democracy in “1979”, to end the crowd surfing. [It is of note that practically none of his verbal banter exists on this recording, and this was what he really employed to this effect, the only snippet being where he first invoked the spiritual element by refusing a song request by basically saying “I won’t play songs that existed before you were born; I mean spiritually born” before introducing “Try, Try, Try”.]
I can tell you by “To Sheila”, I was beginning to see things darkly, it really came across as scorched, and screaming into the last divide; it was time to arrive, “you make me real”. I no longer trusted “I’ll take you home into this night” [even though the night is purportedly mine].
With “Ava Adore” I was completely horrified. It was the one that had invoked my choice by virtue of its one line invoking an existing future together, but in that choice I blithely hadn’t acknowledged the rest of what it said. And it was the aspects of darkness Billy realized in the present, I realized that this had happened here, now, because I had exposed myself to him in the conviction that I was going to be with him. How had I dismissed it before as irrelevant? -Because it had nothing to do with me? He said she was the murder in his world, dressing coffins for the souls he’d left behind. In the context of the theatre, this was true. He was dispensing with souls. He was using the vacuums that opened in my philosophy to do it, the apparent lack of resolution. He’d used the concept of me to open a vacuum in them, and destroyed them with it, either with that or defining themselves negatively inside the vacuum. I was culpable in my mere presence. I had dressed their coffins. It was in where they chose to cheer, to a song that was all merely past tense, except for the “coffins” part. It was the victory rebel yell; I got you to be this. He said you are all my whores, and everyone was, because either their feelings were meaningless or they were whoring themselves in self-definition, “you will always be my whores, because you’re the ones that I adore, and I’ll pull your crooked teeth, and you’ll be perfect just like Billy” –how pathetic especially when “in you I see dirty” was the line they cheered for, “in you I tasted God”, -past tense. “We must never be apart” refracted into the audience in this way became a horrible parody. “Heavy Metal Machine” was just a plea to die, to end existence inside the “machine’ that was existing inside the feedback that ended in a scream.
With “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” “but I can fake it for just one rock show”- “tell me I’m the only one for you, Jesus was an only son for you despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage, someone will say what is lost can never be saved”, “and I still believe that I still cannot be saved”, with the scream “I still believe” meaning he still believed he was beyond grace, which made a pretty good requiem of “tell me I’m the only one”. Where he really turned things on their head was with his cover of “Once in a Lifetime” and his use of “you might ask yourself”.
“And you might ask yourself,
what does this song mean if it has no meaning,
And you might ask yourself,
Just what do I feel if I have no feelings
And you might ask yourself
Must I wear black every day
And you might ask yourself,
If I wear black does that mean I’m gay? (-the black humour hadn’t left)
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground, into the blue again, water flowing underground
And you might ask you yourself
Just who does that motherfucking bald guy on stage think he is
And you might ask yourself
What does he know about me and my life and my problems…
You might ask yourself
Just how fucking deep is the bottom of the ocean, huh?
You might ask yourself,
Why must I ask so many questions when I don’t have any answers?
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground, into the blue again, water flowing underground
What do I want?
Halfway to nowhere, two steps back, one step backwards, stuck. in. my. head.”
And then the screams, and
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
I finished it, rendered my judgment with the words, you have just defined yourself. This track, the eighteenth, was where it really went down, but listening to it doesn’t quite capture. The mockery of the reverbed “poetry in motion” –“can you feel it?” “No? -Don’t lie. Can you feel it?” – “I can”. “Somewhere between sentimentalism and a lie, the truth and the sky”…and the play with “yes” “no”, where yes really meant its opposite in what it was affirming, because where he made the demand of a “yes” of “can you feel it” was at the sort of decimation in the last ten minutes, affirmation of “and I still believe I cannot be saved”. And there is where the play/banter begins to question why they’re there in the first place. “Just say “Yes””, -duly roared as asked, mainly from the shred of faithful at the front. “I like “Yes” better too. “Yes” spelled backwards is “sey”. And “dog” spelt backwards is The Smashing Pumpkins. Can you feel it? –Must be the new millennium’s got you down. So whaduyu want? See I’m hoping for this sort of artistic epiphany but all they want is water. “Water” –more important than the rock.” By the end of “Bullet”, the audience was clearly divided, which was why he played it with “yes” vs. “no” showing the redundancy of either answer in that both even existed. Either they were participating in it or they were not and there was nothing left to participate in, and the majority was exactly what he’d told it to be, exultation in “I still believe I cannot be saved”, the big empty he’d asserted by just singing how he/they felt nothing, the conclusion he’d imputed collectively. “Yes. We’ve gone in a big circle. Yes.”
He knew where he was taking it, what he was dismantling. He snarled why do you think I always wear black anyway? That was both at himself, and at the audience. So the audience who was still participating, defining itself with him, were put into the realms of pure rebellion. What greater divide is there, than to make people participate in the feeling that they are beyond grace? “Yes. I feel it.” They were defining themselves in terms of what they saw in him, what they’d chosen in him. They were really defining themselves in terms of themselves, which is a way of consciously defining yourself that is really potent. They were defining themselves by what they really wanted. He just facilitated. On the other hand he was providing the fatal demonstration that he was the arbiter of the trip, it went where he took it; hence it was utter bollocks. Anyone who was on the sidelines by this point was receiving a palpable inescapable demonstration that none of his words, or their identity in his words, meant anything because he could manipulate it just how he pleased. The trip only went where he wanted it to and you had no control over that.
The reason “what are you really here for” was a fatal question for me was because I wasn’t responding in a context, anymore, that was acceptable universally. I’d asked in my mind to be with him. It was exclusive [and placed the entire stake in effect, on him]. I also sensed he could flip wanting to be with him on its goddamned ear, which is what he proceeded to do. Unfortunately, see, he’d spoken the secret password and received the ultimate all access pass. His affirmation had been total; it could not have been stronger, nor could it have been more strongly signified. Hence his destructive range was at maximum potential, and indeed he became the personification of my worst and deepest fear, the inversion. There is nothing quite like being violated by it. It felt like an interior mind rape.
The monster had two heads. It was either entry into a solipsist delusion, or else they were defining themselves in Billy, they were there based on vicarious participation in his words. They’d come because they identified in him. Well, that put them out on a limb seeing as he was dismantling the notion himself. He destroyed any hopes they had in it. He was doing the same thing to me. My belief in a universal awareness became a complete joke, because I was not connected to anyone there and there was nothing I could do to help them; even if I could protect myself, Billy was robbing my concepts and using them to literally destroy people present. He was decimating their ability to feel beyond themselves, to quest for feelings that were real. Actually he was dismantling any trust they could have in their own feelings, the ability to feel at all, except delusively.
By that time I was really scared. This was because I’d recognized an old friend, the danger of participating in a reflection. There I was going through it all over again, questioning whether that was what I’d really done. This was because he’d got me questioning him. If I’d come to affirm it through him, he was dismantling it. So how could any of it be mutual? Therefore, weren’t you just back to participating in a reflection? Doesn’t that mean that everything you’ve tried to redefine as the union, via redemption, isn’t real, it’s just assumed? [Boom, all of a sudden I know, everything in The S.P., your declaration of the union, is just assumed. I mean if you chose to affirm this through him he’s just made it totally absurd. All of a sudden it’s preposterous arrogance. -Implosion!]
I was already separate, and I was already resisting before this point. He was still making me culpable by presence alone. I forget what prompted it, but I knew, I could say no to these devastating arguments he unleashed. No. I did not define myself as a reflection. It was transformation. Had I ever succumbed to the reflection, by responding to my identity in his words [never his whole spectrum], he would have destroyed me by entry into the solipsist falsity, and assuming anointed aspects that were false. I would just be participating in my own reflection, an ego romp. He only gets to do this to you on the assumption of your own guilt, or lack of self-establishment. You condemn yourself he doesn’t do it. That’s what makes it potentially dangerous. And he consciously knows he is the architect of this. It was his “end” performance in keeping with the end of the band.
No. I did not define myself in you. I had never assumed the negatives in his words. I had never assumed belief in the union or anything else based on the fact that it was present in his words. I had tested it through the redemptive process, never assumed. He had never defined me. I would have been the only person in the theatre who could respond that way, and have it stick. The reason I was still culpable for events, and still felt guilty, was because of how he was affecting everyone else. He had me by my own conviction in him and what he’d done with it. I said I was being violated, it was my first real experience of this, and I was dead serious. In terms of the empath awareness I knew everything that was happening to people there, same as if it happened to me. I was assimilating everything happening inside that theatre. My only distinguishing awareness came from my memory and knowledge of redemption.
When I began to realize where he was going to take things, how he made them question their own ability to even feel something real, I thought, you are very dangerous. In fact at that moment I thought he was the most dangerous person alive, because of the level he could damage them at. By the time he finished “Bullet” he was my worst fears realized. [He was actually more potentially lethal to her mind in that moment than anything her father could have threatened her with, because he was beyond even what he could have envisaged.] It was a terrifying thing to witness.
By the time of “Blue Sky Brings Tears”, he’d made the tears true in the worst way. They weren’t by separation from him; they were by being with him. The ultimate prick tease. “Don’t you want me?” The Devil is a fucker who will never get it up. “I ask for nothing given, nothing in return”. [Entry as emptiness, he made the song true in that moment; was it true for all of the rest? Make love to nothing (fundamentally, can you “make love” mentally? Is that how far you take it? If it is divorced from physicality and essentially, orgasm, what is it? –and if the physical was what you sought, this should not have been the guy). And in the end, was it just a massive reflection that was really nothing more than an empty unconscious cipher?] “Blue Skies Bring Tears” became everything it meant, was where he finished me. It was disintegration in slow motion. The song killed me because none of what he had said in that song had anything to do with me, but by being there he’d made it true for everyone, including me. How did he damn me by association? I’d sought the entry in the final verse; he deliberately made it empty, and couched it in the decimation of the song itself.
I forget which point made me realize I was there participating in my own requiem. By “Blue Sky Brings Tears” it was inescapable. I must have fundamentally sought self-destruction, if I had chosen to arrive at my own requiem and chose that apex as my defining moment. It is your own conscious choice that is destroying. “Even I need somebody” could hardly redeem it, nor everybody wanting the “white light” and blue sky”.
He’d frightened me so much that I was terrified of him knowing that I existed, now, how he could react, how he’d mock my words based on how soundly he’d demolish them. Whether he’d try to destroy me based on how completely I’d exposed myself. I thought of certain lines in the document and just cringed. How ludicrous it was to have even considered being with this person, let alone mention forever. The performance had just made the entire entreaty absurd. Even The S.P. seemed absurd, useless crowing, he’d just made me question everything, left me totally uncertain in my assumptions there. I’d assumed too much.
I’d say less than half the people were clapping at the end, the rest just wanted it over as quickly as possible. There was only one song for encore, “Raindrops and Sunshowers”. Even that was devastating because now the soul connection meant nothing, so what came through was how indistinguishable it was, and the wallowing in misery. It became a whining parody. [-Nothing more than a passage in depression.]
Plate V was the closing, with the couple had been replaced with a single white flower. To me the flower was now sheer poison; he’d made it poison. It felt like witnessing the birth of the inversion. He’d made everything I defined myself as access them in a way that was damaging, because it was an unknown. He’d taken the vacuum and devastated them in it, either because they were not equipped to know whether they had anything to give, that there was something, or they’d defined themselves inside the vacuum in a way that was evil. All this fed back into me and gave it no reason for being.”
“[I]t started off on an even keel. [Relatively speaking, for in her context he gate-crashed her basically, with the song “Age of Innocence” which had devastated her more than any of them, and in his choice she felt a premonition of the tact he would take in performance. This song (as well as others) were deliberately played at a faster a tempo she thought was too fast, as if to get it all over with; the ambivalent rock star came out to play. This was then re-balanced by the deliberate choice of “Wound”. Naturally by inserting “Pale Scales”, (which had been the intro in Europe), he sort of made “The Everlasting Gaze” the real starting salvo to the show once more. It came fourth, a blast as dark as it was.] “Tonight Tonight”, “To Sheila”, “Try, Try, Try” and “1979” came later. In the first section I participated happily and I was in bliss with “Try, Try, Try”. The lights were fantastic; for this song there were three shifting forms of orange and yellow light. I was very high. He appeared for a brief moment like an angel. The backdrop during the beginning was “The Soul as Living Proof”, looking like it was under rippling water. Perfect. I know that is what I have accomplished and I am resting in the accomplishment of my own awareness. It exists under the unconscious sea.
I decided in the beginning of the show that it was my choice to let Billy go, that that would be the way of loving him the most, my first questioning of the wisdom of the letter. I don’t want to disturb his life. I want him to have his girlfriend. [No one should have to lose anything to this.] -So I declared, I let you go. Then James Iha sang “Blew Away” and that really made it complete, because James is a part too and that is the level I want to keep it at. (I [had] simply [been] hoping [before, that] I could have both.)
“Glass and the Ghost Children” – “The Sacred & Profane” was not performed, but [was] the point. [It appears to have been the name she thought the Tour was titled under, and based on recordings this appears to be true; the assignation of “Black Wings” would come up later.] God’s participation is sacred; it is my assumption of it that is profanity. – He demolished me on the basis of my own assumptions; I’d assumed too much. I was destroyed by my own arrogance, completely reduced and obliterated by my own self-importance. [It was almost an attack based on his assumption that what he was singing about didn’t really exist, for he’d never encountered it. His emphasis of the mutual fear of the all seemed to lead into this fundamental doubt based in the existing unknown. “She can hear Glass calling, or is it someone who looks like me” – “For knowing is its own answer, love something in your books”]
I don’t think I can detect precisely where it began to dive. [But “I of the Mourning” rang with hollow melancholy, where the end became a growl and the personification of being trapped inside the radio transferred and shifted universally, coming across as almost manic. And that was where he inserted his own internal disintegration, the monologue that had originally come from “Glass & the Ghost Children”, his essential doubt rewound and until it came out at the speed of Alvin the chipmunk. “And I began thinking that this was the cause of all the negativity again” put on repeat, repeat, repeat. The trick to it all was that he turned it all over easy after making the appeal “believe in me as I believe in you, tonight is so right, tonight”; this became the form of the ultimate honey trap; “Blew Away” was like the last consignment to good-bye, and pointedly he did not sing it; it ended up coming across almost as a farewell salute before the dark test; “Try,Try,Try” did this personally, it turned out. Then “1979” –“you and I should meet, junebug skipping like a stone, headlights pointed at the dawn”.] There was a pre-conceptionist jibe, which was really funny, and his little exercise in democracy in “1979”, to end the crowd surfing. [It is of note that practically none of his verbal banter exists on this recording, and this was what he really employed to this effect, the only snippet being where he first invoked the spiritual element by refusing a song request by basically saying “I won’t play songs that existed before you were born; I mean spiritually born” before introducing “Try, Try, Try”.]
I can tell you by “To Sheila”, I was beginning to see things darkly, it really came across as scorched, and screaming into the last divide; it was time to arrive, “you make me real”. I no longer trusted “I’ll take you home into this night” [even though the night is purportedly mine].
With “Ava Adore” I was completely horrified. It was the one that had invoked my choice by virtue of its one line invoking an existing future together, but in that choice I blithely hadn’t acknowledged the rest of what it said. And it was the aspects of darkness Billy realized in the present, I realized that this had happened here, now, because I had exposed myself to him in the conviction that I was going to be with him. How had I dismissed it before as irrelevant? -Because it had nothing to do with me? He said she was the murder in his world, dressing coffins for the souls he’d left behind. In the context of the theatre, this was true. He was dispensing with souls. He was using the vacuums that opened in my philosophy to do it, the apparent lack of resolution. He’d used the concept of me to open a vacuum in them, and destroyed them with it, either with that or defining themselves negatively inside the vacuum. I was culpable in my mere presence. I had dressed their coffins. It was in where they chose to cheer, to a song that was all merely past tense, except for the “coffins” part. It was the victory rebel yell; I got you to be this. He said you are all my whores, and everyone was, because either their feelings were meaningless or they were whoring themselves in self-definition, “you will always be my whores, because you’re the ones that I adore, and I’ll pull your crooked teeth, and you’ll be perfect just like Billy” –how pathetic especially when “in you I see dirty” was the line they cheered for, “in you I tasted God”, -past tense. “We must never be apart” refracted into the audience in this way became a horrible parody. “Heavy Metal Machine” was just a plea to die, to end existence inside the “machine’ that was existing inside the feedback that ended in a scream.
With “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” “but I can fake it for just one rock show”- “tell me I’m the only one for you, Jesus was an only son for you despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage, someone will say what is lost can never be saved”, “and I still believe that I still cannot be saved”, with the scream “I still believe” meaning he still believed he was beyond grace, which made a pretty good requiem of “tell me I’m the only one”. Where he really turned things on their head was with his cover of “Once in a Lifetime” and his use of “you might ask yourself”.
“And you might ask yourself,
what does this song mean if it has no meaning,
And you might ask yourself,
Just what do I feel if I have no feelings
And you might ask yourself
Must I wear black every day
And you might ask yourself,
If I wear black does that mean I’m gay? (-the black humour hadn’t left)
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground, into the blue again, water flowing underground
And you might ask you yourself
Just who does that motherfucking bald guy on stage think he is
And you might ask yourself
What does he know about me and my life and my problems…
You might ask yourself
Just how fucking deep is the bottom of the ocean, huh?
You might ask yourself,
Why must I ask so many questions when I don’t have any answers?
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground, into the blue again, water flowing underground
What do I want?
Halfway to nowhere, two steps back, one step backwards, stuck. in. my. head.”
And then the screams, and
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
I finished it, rendered my judgment with the words, you have just defined yourself. This track, the eighteenth, was where it really went down, but listening to it doesn’t quite capture. The mockery of the reverbed “poetry in motion” –“can you feel it?” “No? -Don’t lie. Can you feel it?” – “I can”. “Somewhere between sentimentalism and a lie, the truth and the sky”…and the play with “yes” “no”, where yes really meant its opposite in what it was affirming, because where he made the demand of a “yes” of “can you feel it” was at the sort of decimation in the last ten minutes, affirmation of “and I still believe I cannot be saved”. And there is where the play/banter begins to question why they’re there in the first place. “Just say “Yes””, -duly roared as asked, mainly from the shred of faithful at the front. “I like “Yes” better too. “Yes” spelled backwards is “sey”. And “dog” spelt backwards is The Smashing Pumpkins. Can you feel it? –Must be the new millennium’s got you down. So whaduyu want? See I’m hoping for this sort of artistic epiphany but all they want is water. “Water” –more important than the rock.” By the end of “Bullet”, the audience was clearly divided, which was why he played it with “yes” vs. “no” showing the redundancy of either answer in that both even existed. Either they were participating in it or they were not and there was nothing left to participate in, and the majority was exactly what he’d told it to be, exultation in “I still believe I cannot be saved”, the big empty he’d asserted by just singing how he/they felt nothing, the conclusion he’d imputed collectively. “Yes. We’ve gone in a big circle. Yes.”
He knew where he was taking it, what he was dismantling. He snarled why do you think I always wear black anyway? That was both at himself, and at the audience. So the audience who was still participating, defining itself with him, were put into the realms of pure rebellion. What greater divide is there, than to make people participate in the feeling that they are beyond grace? “Yes. I feel it.” They were defining themselves in terms of what they saw in him, what they’d chosen in him. They were really defining themselves in terms of themselves, which is a way of consciously defining yourself that is really potent. They were defining themselves by what they really wanted. He just facilitated. On the other hand he was providing the fatal demonstration that he was the arbiter of the trip, it went where he took it; hence it was utter bollocks. Anyone who was on the sidelines by this point was receiving a palpable inescapable demonstration that none of his words, or their identity in his words, meant anything because he could manipulate it just how he pleased. The trip only went where he wanted it to and you had no control over that.
The reason “what are you really here for” was a fatal question for me was because I wasn’t responding in a context, anymore, that was acceptable universally. I’d asked in my mind to be with him. It was exclusive [and placed the entire stake in effect, on him]. I also sensed he could flip wanting to be with him on its goddamned ear, which is what he proceeded to do. Unfortunately, see, he’d spoken the secret password and received the ultimate all access pass. His affirmation had been total; it could not have been stronger, nor could it have been more strongly signified. Hence his destructive range was at maximum potential, and indeed he became the personification of my worst and deepest fear, the inversion. There is nothing quite like being violated by it. It felt like an interior mind rape.
The monster had two heads. It was either entry into a solipsist delusion, or else they were defining themselves in Billy, they were there based on vicarious participation in his words. They’d come because they identified in him. Well, that put them out on a limb seeing as he was dismantling the notion himself. He destroyed any hopes they had in it. He was doing the same thing to me. My belief in a universal awareness became a complete joke, because I was not connected to anyone there and there was nothing I could do to help them; even if I could protect myself, Billy was robbing my concepts and using them to literally destroy people present. He was decimating their ability to feel beyond themselves, to quest for feelings that were real. Actually he was dismantling any trust they could have in their own feelings, the ability to feel at all, except delusively.
By that time I was really scared. This was because I’d recognized an old friend, the danger of participating in a reflection. There I was going through it all over again, questioning whether that was what I’d really done. This was because he’d got me questioning him. If I’d come to affirm it through him, he was dismantling it. So how could any of it be mutual? Therefore, weren’t you just back to participating in a reflection? Doesn’t that mean that everything you’ve tried to redefine as the union, via redemption, isn’t real, it’s just assumed? [Boom, all of a sudden I know, everything in The S.P., your declaration of the union, is just assumed. I mean if you chose to affirm this through him he’s just made it totally absurd. All of a sudden it’s preposterous arrogance. -Implosion!]
I was already separate, and I was already resisting before this point. He was still making me culpable by presence alone. I forget what prompted it, but I knew, I could say no to these devastating arguments he unleashed. No. I did not define myself as a reflection. It was transformation. Had I ever succumbed to the reflection, by responding to my identity in his words [never his whole spectrum], he would have destroyed me by entry into the solipsist falsity, and assuming anointed aspects that were false. I would just be participating in my own reflection, an ego romp. He only gets to do this to you on the assumption of your own guilt, or lack of self-establishment. You condemn yourself he doesn’t do it. That’s what makes it potentially dangerous. And he consciously knows he is the architect of this. It was his “end” performance in keeping with the end of the band.
No. I did not define myself in you. I had never assumed the negatives in his words. I had never assumed belief in the union or anything else based on the fact that it was present in his words. I had tested it through the redemptive process, never assumed. He had never defined me. I would have been the only person in the theatre who could respond that way, and have it stick. The reason I was still culpable for events, and still felt guilty, was because of how he was affecting everyone else. He had me by my own conviction in him and what he’d done with it. I said I was being violated, it was my first real experience of this, and I was dead serious. In terms of the empath awareness I knew everything that was happening to people there, same as if it happened to me. I was assimilating everything happening inside that theatre. My only distinguishing awareness came from my memory and knowledge of redemption.
When I began to realize where he was going to take things, how he made them question their own ability to even feel something real, I thought, you are very dangerous. In fact at that moment I thought he was the most dangerous person alive, because of the level he could damage them at. By the time he finished “Bullet” he was my worst fears realized. [He was actually more potentially lethal to her mind in that moment than anything her father could have threatened her with, because he was beyond even what he could have envisaged.] It was a terrifying thing to witness.
By the time of “Blue Sky Brings Tears”, he’d made the tears true in the worst way. They weren’t by separation from him; they were by being with him. The ultimate prick tease. “Don’t you want me?” The Devil is a fucker who will never get it up. “I ask for nothing given, nothing in return”. [Entry as emptiness, he made the song true in that moment; was it true for all of the rest? Make love to nothing (fundamentally, can you “make love” mentally? Is that how far you take it? If it is divorced from physicality and essentially, orgasm, what is it? –and if the physical was what you sought, this should not have been the guy). And in the end, was it just a massive reflection that was really nothing more than an empty unconscious cipher?] “Blue Skies Bring Tears” became everything it meant, was where he finished me. It was disintegration in slow motion. The song killed me because none of what he had said in that song had anything to do with me, but by being there he’d made it true for everyone, including me. How did he damn me by association? I’d sought the entry in the final verse; he deliberately made it empty, and couched it in the decimation of the song itself.
I forget which point made me realize I was there participating in my own requiem. By “Blue Sky Brings Tears” it was inescapable. I must have fundamentally sought self-destruction, if I had chosen to arrive at my own requiem and chose that apex as my defining moment. It is your own conscious choice that is destroying. “Even I need somebody” could hardly redeem it, nor everybody wanting the “white light” and blue sky”.
He’d frightened me so much that I was terrified of him knowing that I existed, now, how he could react, how he’d mock my words based on how soundly he’d demolish them. Whether he’d try to destroy me based on how completely I’d exposed myself. I thought of certain lines in the document and just cringed. How ludicrous it was to have even considered being with this person, let alone mention forever. The performance had just made the entire entreaty absurd. Even The S.P. seemed absurd, useless crowing, he’d just made me question everything, left me totally uncertain in my assumptions there. I’d assumed too much.
I’d say less than half the people were clapping at the end, the rest just wanted it over as quickly as possible. There was only one song for encore, “Raindrops and Sunshowers”. Even that was devastating because now the soul connection meant nothing, so what came through was how indistinguishable it was, and the wallowing in misery. It became a whining parody. [-Nothing more than a passage in depression.]
Plate V was the closing, with the couple had been replaced with a single white flower. To me the flower was now sheer poison; he’d made it poison. It felt like witnessing the birth of the inversion. He’d made everything I defined myself as access them in a way that was damaging, because it was an unknown. He’d taken the vacuum and devastated them in it, either because they were not equipped to know whether they had anything to give, that there was something, or they’d defined themselves inside the vacuum in a way that was evil. All this fed back into me and gave it no reason for being.”