Tag: juggernaut

Carl Jung: if you become radically vulnerable and true to yourself — through your life’s expression, you will attract your people

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Alchemy, C.G. Jung, Crone, Crone Consciousness, exposition, Jung, Jungian, thresholdLeave a comment

“Neither propaganda nor exhibitionist confessions are needed.

If the archetype, which is universal, i.e., identical with itself always and anywhere, is properly dealt with in one place only, it is influenced as a whole, i.e. simultaneously and everywhere.

Thus an old alchemist gave the following consolation to one of his disciples:

“No matter how isolated you are and how lonely you feel, if you do your work truly and conscientiously, unknown friends will come and seek you.”

It seems to me that nothing essential has ever been lost, because the matrix is ever present within us and from this it can and will be reproduced if needed.

But only those can recover it who have learned the art of averting their eyes from the blinding light of current opinion, and close their ears to the noise of ephemeral slogans.”

– Carl Gustav Jung: Letters, Volume II, p. 595

Continue reading “Carl Jung: if you become radically vulnerable and true to yourself — through your life’s expression, you will attract your people” →

memo to a particular poet

On By ©️K.T. 2025In heartbreak, love, memo, Poem, poememo, poetry, relationships, UncategorizedLeave a comment

i am going to bed, now
at 7:08
to lessen the ache
of being awake

this is a poem
this is the business
of us, artists
this is our “business correspondence”

inform a collaborator
a coworker – if you will,
of your passwords and process
before taking those pills

my corazón has nearly bled-out
migrating across my torso, my limbs,
and my crown
settling into my cornflower blue eyes
bloodshot — with or without drops and disguise

Continue reading “memo to a particular poet” →

someone

On By ©️K.T. 2025In heartbreak, poetry, UncategorizedLeave a comment

i feel like someone
you last loved on a wednesday,
earlier this week

i feel like someone who was once your intense singular joy/ now and again, an invisible naturalist, poet, neologist and crone

i feel like someone you forgot to mention the Hilma Af Klint show to

i feel like someone losing our intimacy
exponentially, by the second, against a shot clock in an un-united center

i feel like someone whose forehead you won’t kiss; whose hollows you’ll never touch with hands, tongue or tip; like someone who’ll never truly climax again

i feel like someone who upset you with
Dream[ing] and that’s where it ended; someone who never listened to your diatribe about Waco, or heard of your plane rituals and four-part fruition

i feel like someone whose mystery you’ll let be; whose content was consumed without gnosis; like those cold “leftovers.”

i don’t feel like someone you will walk across a frozen Lake or Lake bed to get to anymore, during the apocalypse, Station Eleven style Continue reading “someone” →