posted on March 1, 2008 at 10:21 pm

about 10 minutes after drinking the aya
i began to feel light
i began to vibrate
things started to flow
i got a tiny tiny glimpse of the magic
my ego was babbling like a fool
ah you see, im not going to get sick
now heroin had made me sick
and morning rose seeds had made me sick n weep n sob
and now the lady (and she is a lady)
the lady said (but not in english)
my old friend,
if you want to raise your self up into the sky
first these ruins
these griefs must be demolished
like the dentist who must fill the decaying tooth
like the doctor who must excise the necrotic flesh
like the sculptor whose chisel must dig into marble
to find the venus de milo contained within
like the builder who bulldozes the old structures
to build the new skyscraper
you must get rid of this accumulated rubble
the parasites, the insults
oh i so willingly threw up
like a woman must have a baby
i pushed it out
i tried to let it go
deep deep fears
deep deep grief
i let go my surface pain
i let go my disappointments
the countless rude and ignorant things i have done
oh that is so easy
yes i am a fool
ah thats better
ha ha said the vine
oh that is the beginning
this is one treatment in an ongoing metamorphosis
i realised it was now 2 late 2 stop
the vine was in my guts
im a virgoan
everything happens in my guts
the kid that fucking biffed me when i was 12
its in my guts
all the times something happened which humiliated me
in my guts
my shame
my guilt
my incredible sadistic cruelty
my inadequacies
my failures
my conflicts
my doubts
all that steve kilbey junk
that steve kilbey garbage pit
just outside steve kilbeys lovely mind city
where they do the songs y’all like
you see they generate a lot of waste in there
the people been trying to ignore it
but they cant expand until the garbage is dealt with
the human race faces this on a macro level
this struggle to face our shadow our darkness our refuse
the wars the slaughter the damage
the obstinate cruel bloodthirsty ignorance
of bush n iraq n whaling n flanders field n the crucifixion
n the pollution.n the witchtrials n the romans n the israelites
n the crusades n the inquisition n the executions
n the tortures n experiments n burnings n destruction n slavery
n oppression
how we fucked the indian indians over
how we fucked the red indians over
how we fucked the aborigines over
how we fucked the women over
how we fucked the children over
how we fucked the old and sick over
how we fucked our friends over
how we fucked our enemies over
how we fucked the dumb animals over
and then
yes my friends
read it and weep
and steve kilbey
that personality reincarnated in this body
is a mini-human race
no better no worse
intent on his learned ignorance
desiring and getting blood and pain and triumph and defeat
comparing himself
imposing himself
withdrawing himself
never part of the universe
i mean
theres the universe
theres kilbey
a pimple
an addition
an accretion
a congealed mistake
an anomaly
wrong wrong wrong
ugly ugly ugly
wicked dirty little boy
shut up
go away
drop dead!
the vine says
kilbey you are a part!
not apart
you are a cog in this big machine
you have a right
you have a place
you have a reason
you are nothing
you are everything
you are love
you are loved
right now you are
a sweating vomiting hallucinating sobbing mess
ok so kilbey gets rid of kilbeys stuff
his dad
the paintings
oh i cried for 2 minutes over my paintings
why for the money?
cos i had put so much love into em
i couldnt let it go
the new church album
already had a song i’d just written the words for
and the refrain
and i cant let it go
and i gotta get up
and i gotta get off
and i gotto get in
and i gotta get out
but i cant i cant let it go
yep i wrote those words pre aya
the vine was already talking before i drank it
she had warned i would be nauseous n fearful
because nausea and fear
are my greatest fears
face them like a man
my friend matty c
undergoing chemo for a year
every day for a year
this man has chemo
he vomits n vomits n vomits
how did he do it?
how could he cope?
i guess he faces it
he accepts it
he gives it no more strength by fearing it!
fuck it all fiendss
i no longer fear nausea and fear
i dont want em
i will try to avoid em
but i aint gonna give em any substance
by revering em with fear
let it come
let it come
the lady who was hosting the night told me
how in an aya vision
she had died
she was dead cold lifeless
who wants this?
no one
this is our greatest fear and horror
alone dead lifeless
her body
began to rot
horror of horrors
the worms who are not worms
but maggots
the putrefaction our flesh contains within itself
the maggots ate her
she could feel it
this is the lowest you can go
you face this
you face this horror
this nightmare
why why why
where are the golden visions
the animal spirits
the revelations….?
not this
after the body was reabsorbed in the earth
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
back to the natural compounds
our bodies are cobbled together with
so we as immortal spirits may experience separation
because as spirits we must experience everything
then you let go
she let go
i let go
all night
the keywords people mutter
let it go
so easy to say
but she did i guess
and oh what victory in that surrender
youve faced it
that worst thing
i had faced the crippling nausea
the fear
the freezing
but something underneath that
refusing to come out
get it out aya
i plead with her
i plead with my nausea
this horrible omnipresent tension
this shadow
out out
rip it out of me
sorry said the vine
i dont rip it out
you gotta let it out
and thats it for your session
but what is it what is it what is it?
its grief
grief from long ago
grief you never let go
you hung on to it
youve been born with it
it has accumulated round your soul
like a black pearl of doubt
ha ha
poor you
you must come back and see me again
soon soon soon
and the fever broke
the nausea abated
the horrors melted
it was a nice morning
i was in a mess
but i felt new and shiny
i felt light
my anger had faded away
my anxiety was a distant ache
rather than an urgent agony
my friend that i went with
contrary to me
drunk his medicine
they call it medicine
oh yes it is
not a kick
not a thrill
not a high
not an A class drug
but sweet sweet medicine
given by god to mankind
for those lucky enough
brave enough
stupid enough
desperate enough
do you wanna face yer demons
hell yeah
bring em on!
stuff my own mind has manufactured
stuff my soul has accumulated
my friend
had lay there all night
peacefully blissfully dreaming
while people threw up
and people played gongs and cymbals
and sang to hold onto themselves through the journey
while the host and hostess
empty the buckets of bile
my big happy friend dreamt
and in the morning
he was so blissful
he was so overcome
with the sheer random delicious love
the beautiful garden
with its vegetal message
all the trees n leaves n shrubs
vibrating with love and joy
drinking the sun and rain and moon
oblivious to humanties obscenities n struggles
gary was in communion and baby he was gone
3 or 4 grown men had to drag his limp body in
cos he was gone
out there
at one
a part
not apart
he is a real gentle man
although maybe not a gentleman jim
the vine was showing him the beauty
the permanent light
always shining above the turmoil of the temporary clouds
his own personal vision
his own place
his own take
everybody was smiling as i left
on the way home
my car overheated continually
an atm swallowed my fucking bankcard
and shut down
but i did not panic or despair
i wasnt happy either
as my car reached boiling point in the tunnel
i risked my life more in that journey
than i ever have with drugs, mr lehbrino
these drugs dont harm us
these drugs are not drugs
they are ancient ancient ancient
beyond your just say no
beyond the 1950s and prohibition
beyond nancy fucking reagan
beyond tim learys persecution
beyond morals
beyond america
beyond babylon
before even lemuria n atlantis
where me and you lived
at the beginning of it all
there was this loving mother
the vine is her language
i must talk with her again
it is going to get worse before it gets better
there a whole lotta hurt
before i get to the bliss
im gonna get me some of that bliss
the pain is temporary
the reward is eternal

s j kilbey
n bondi autumn 2008

31 Responses to “vegetalista! pt 2”

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