LORE o'C.o'F.K.-Exordium-(part 2)
Its not t' be strung out in ideologies,rather actual
Magikal Eksperyentchul Knowledge.
Not t' be caught in webs,shucks o' doubtin' one's
possibilities,energies,courage,abilities...
no individual be obligated t' be a part o' any
societus which locksteps toward
self-destruction,permeated in evil. The Fugitive
Kind's hearts pound as if wi' Voodoo
drums-the very different drummer o' Authentic Self
which the Fugitive Kind bend an
ear t' 'n' follow. Not futile the frantic Kicks o' the
Life, 'cause we live neath the
Shadow o' the Beast...
the face o' alienation,o' disaffiliation,which be that
o' the Fugitive Kind,be not s'very
bizarre nor "sick" 'n' depraved afterall. We can't
know what mad landscapes await
us,but our creations,our Legacy be testaments left in
ashes,illumination in the darkness,
t' guide survivors who come after when we be Gone
Beyond. It be a Holy Road,'n'
somewhere beyond the horizons,the true Self awaits
reunion wi' the Seeker.
One must come t' the realization that its ultimate Bad
Faith t' ignore one's personal
hassles 'n' questions that be at root o' their very
ekyisyence,they must be explored
in order t' exorcise 'n' at least t' attempt t' answer
them questions,t' learn from
that eksperyentchul knowledge, 'n' then t' do that
which be what one should be
a-doin':one's Work-whatever that be,one's creative
search for true Self. One can't
ignore or obliterate the profound anguish 'n' despair
that one feels in attempt t'
dwell in the nebulous farce that be this societus o'
oneself 'n' Others. One must
confront these negative states in one's continuum o'
Moments,'n' evolve,grow,
become spiritually healthy...
its the Coolthe o' the Fugitive Kind,that out front
knowledge that makes one strong 'n' compells one t' go
on n'matter what the consequences or the hassles that
assault
one...
the Fugitive Kind can't associate nor assimilate
themselves into societus,for they be
truly Lone Wolves on a Wild Road t' Legacy or
oblivion,bearin' terrible scars o' love,
total isolate beings,s' extremely
different,shattered,in tatters,like Val Snakeskin
Xavier,tired 'n' disgusted 'n' restless,crazed,'n'
equipped t' tap the Source-the
Spirit.
The Fugitive Kind be Refugees in this here Nex
Millenniuum-Renegade artists,
legendary,even more furtive than their
predecessors-Villon,Rimbaud,Genet...
the stink o' the ashes o' genocided millions o'
Auschwitz 'n' Treblinka 'n' Bergen-
Belsen 'n' Dachau clogs their nostrils; the witchhunts
o' McCarthy; the Strange
Fruit that be AfroAmerican bodies burned 'n' lynched;
the horror o' potential atomic holocaust forces them
t' ekyist in terminal dread.
'N' yet they can do nothin' but t' Act-based on
acquired survival instincts,for they
be truly Conjurers,Magick be their Wild Creed,'n' from
out o' the Dread emerges
the Mutant,who becomes Possessed by Spirits,who stalks
the earth,who in the Heart o'
the Beast,in this amodern resurrected Babylon,be the
Adversary,the Nemesis.
The Fugitive Kind be Evangelists o' the Blues which
they live,the angst o' human
folly,the despair o' human's plunge into
self-destruct,'n' the Love-the love o' life,
the passionate Embrace,the mystical communion wi'
Spirits.
A weird breed o' heroes be they,androgynous,a human
Phoneix-they've been
anihililated 'n' resurrected,come down t' earth t'
create the paradise o' myth,if
they only can avoid Man's intent t' destroy anything
that deviates from his
meglomaniacal lunatic "Master Plan".
GypsyMan-AKA Gypsy James O'Toole
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