Section 0032

     And if art were to incite disorder?

    Why squander a moment of our brief time here on troubles and care when there are 32 types of the enjoyment and 64 types of the love all around?

     We court our shackles.

    The widow thought that the world was strange, the sky extraordinary, the man's head against the red sky a wonder, a poem, above it the sparkle of the great young star. 
A semblance of the sun, a wicked likeness of morning, shines up among the ruins. So I think that in the making and in the understanding of a work of art, and the more easily if it is full of patterns and symbols and music, we are lured to the threshold of sleep, and it may be far beyond it, without knowing that we have ever set our feet upon the steps of horn or ivory.
     Sometimes you sense the light before the body wakes up.
     My mother grabbed back the telegram. It is all, however, quite real.

     Picture yourself in a commanding attitude, full of courage and brightness. That, and perhaps a certain tune played on an accordion as well. Both telepathic and narcotic, daydream is the most potent means of transiting the superflux.