A Hollow Cost
A Spoken Word Revelation
by Genesis P-Orridge and Psychic TV
featuring Larry Thrasher (1994)
No fear, except thee fear of leaving. Death is like each other. Life has only dreams to recommend it, and thee security of being inside. To be part of a group, to be INSIDE, is to enter thee body and partake of sex. We therefore thrive on this violation. We attempt to recreate thee excitement of a first moment's intensity by deceptive means. Happiness can give you fear. Of course thee fear of it ending. Thee only real fear is fear of ending, and thee only joy is violation. Unhappiness gives insight cruelly, happiness makes a death threat. As time passes thee addiction dwindles. Always a jolt of steel. Always. Thee orchid, thee metal. Muscles, no longer as loose as childhood, ache in memorium, stiffening with age before beauty. Age before lust. Age before love. Demand outstrips supply, we congeal, fixed in parables and fantasies. Thee past controls through people. Little girls become young ladies. Proper. They attract by their lack of experience, unaware of thee spell, more concerned with being inside than observation. They accept thee host. They create a ghost that haunts forever. Thee ache for reclamation. Perhaps, thee story goes, if you recreate that first moment, passed; you can travel back in time. Or by creating a stranger, replenish lust. This violation then is a form of breaking thee rules: a necessary act to exist. Conscious self-deception and threat of oneself and one's security affirms existence, makes real. Sexuality, getting inside, makes real, makes really real, and once inside we can make anything happen. Eyes shut in a coffin, a world of darkness, we travel that darkness to reconvene our emotions and listening hard we see every detail of every sexual act. Little girls masturbating about tomorrow. Little boys masturbating. Every second losing intensity, creating thee need forever to go back inside and feel safe, to travel back and feel alive. It really is so difficult. What we have creates our need. Restrictions are removed like school uniforms, we discover eroticism in both manners. And manners maketh man, woman and star. We enter our bodies. Inside is quiet, scarcely a solution in sight. Sharing a body is nothing. Sharing insight is everything. A fine balance maintained by neurosis... [continue reading]
