RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Wednesday, June 2

SONG OF THE DAY: A Change Is Going To Come

Too much thought paralyzes action, as does perfecting the types of thoughts you have. Thoughts are meant to be fucked up sometimes, so nobody has perfectly formulated philosophies. I mean, we can learn how to filter our wild thoughts into publicly acceptable behavior, that doesn’t fuck up other people’s lives, although at the same time there’s plenty of dumbass “free thinkers” who believe they should never filter shit, that First Amendment means you assault rifle all your thoughts out like a mass shooter and if anybody gets hit by something they don’t like, well fuck it, that’s the price of this American brand of freedom. I don’t really feel that way.
I said “feel” instead of “think” because it’s always seemed to me that brain thinks differently than heart. And then as I got older and learned about fermentation and probiotic gut flora and shit like that, gut thinks even differently. They had some study a couple years back where your gut had an idea it sent to your brain before your brain thought it, suggesting free will is not a scientific reality necessarily. Then again, that’s likely not true because we attach will to the brain, not believing the gut or heart has shit to do with it. So I guess it’s not so much too much thought itself paralyzes action but too much brain thought does, or too much disparity between the various places a person thinks in their human body. Your brain says, “let’s do this!” but your gut intuition is like “hold up, bro,” and meanwhile your heart is screaming at you that you’re fucking up. I think with the way we’re living right now, if you’re heart’s not screaming at you a whole lot of the time, then you might’ve been ignoring your heart way too much. I’m actually ignoring mine right now. I always joke that when I die, my heart’s going to be clogged with fried chicken thighs, but it’s more likely going to get seized up by the denial of thought energies flowing outward, that congeal in my chest cavity like soul grease that clogs me to frustrated death.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Tonight I was on the toilet for the umpteenth time today with diarrhea, and whilst sitting had to throw up too. I've gotten good at pulling the bathroom trashcan between my feet so I can vomit & poop simultaneously. I asked myself "What the hell did I eat?" but realized I ate crow from my neighbor last night on him dumping trash on my property and my yard upkeep. He also called me "Missy" like I was being uppity with my words, while I ate crow distastefully.
I've gotten good at sneezing while coughing and vomiting, without Janis or Belushi-ing myself. I'm probably gonna die from malnutrition, not crow eating. But its all intertwined.
One of my favorite movie lines delivered is Cole Hauser in Dazed & Confused "Don't write a check your butt can't cash." He vibes like my uncle David. Also, I have IBS and likely am semi-schizophrenic, mentally & physically, mostly metaphysically.
Soul grease may be the lubricant I need.
I still haven't conquered peeing while pooping. If I do, that'll prolly be the day I die.