Matthew
Kostmayer

On Excitement The peril that debaucherous emotional indulgence inspires in the open, knowledgeable individual is no joke. Excitement is a drug that commands the attention into an intense, fantastical state. The expectation of the human to fulfill the fantasized reality in a state of excitement runs rampant. For an investment of emotion to be economical, the dormant passion beneath the superficial mania must find the content of the fantasy worthy. But in a state of excitement, the fantasy is always worthy. The true test of whether the individual is passionate enough to fulfill the fantasy is if they make the decisions necessary outside of the excitement, after the initial sprout. A brainstorm can be utilized in a multiplicity of fashions. Brainstorming about architecture can provide an individual with the ideas necessary to write a poem. The creativity that is harnessed in one direction can be aligned with another direction. This is the power of interdisciplinary study. The role of high-intensity association in the creative process is to connect those distant pieces of knowledge that share similar patterns with each other. A concept here, an equation there — the world is intertwined with harmony. The ability to discover those harmonies is crucial in creating new harmonies. On Association The bringing-together of disparate ideas, by means of a natural bonding mechanism, has multiple purposes. First, if we do not associate ourselves with the perceived world, the foundation upholding our perception crumbles. Patience is the virtue that provides association with the fuel it desires to ground us in the reality we know. A meditative state, where very little stimulation is affecting the individual senses, reprograms the mind to accept what comes and relax what tenses. The tension of the mind is what destroys productive association. Creativity is the fuel of association. If humans were not creative, our fundamental perception of reality would not be stable. Part of the psychoanalytic process is to engage the patient creatively to make the best possible associations. On Denial The oceanic power that consciousness wields over its surroundings can be cataclysmic if psychopathic behavior becomes normative throughout the development of the individual. On small scales, denial can erode the entire foundation of truth within a human mind, as in psychoanalysis. On large scales, denial can erode the entire foundation of civilization, as in Fascistic hysteria. Change is a form of relief, but denial is a form of grief. You inevitably kill someone in the psychopathic act of inducing true human denial. No earthly power or possession can convince me otherwise. In the convergence of natural processes into the creative process, and then, in the allocation of energy that develops observation, ideological possession dissolves. The desirable artistic object draws consciousness into novel realities, where swimming swarms of unrealized potential lie in waiting for the curious reader to indulge in. The desirable artistic object persuades the reader to partially entertain the maddening inspiration of the work. On Audacity The psychopath's industrial production of audacity is the driving factor in the violation of the victim's consciousness. If the psychopath can manipulate death-excitement in their victim to only be relieved by the social presence of the psychopath, then the victim becomes the psychopath's psychological slave. Threatening an individual in a contained environment with the slow burning psychological transformation of imposing denial, is a terror I hope no soul experiences. You are special in that you trust in this work, worrying yourself to the harrowing myth of love. Love for language, love for impossibilities expressed, and love for the deep secrets that reality hides from you. On Hierarchy A hierarchy is a naturally occurring, spiritual ranking of individuals. The structure of a hierarchy consists of faith and trust. The religious impulse is what organizes human society and animal kingdoms into rank. The deeper into the unconscious we travel, the more troubling this idea is. Respect is only the surface. The more you strip back the layers of the hierarchical substance, the more you see that it relies on a contorted piety woven into more base emotions such as envy and wrath.

From Fine Wine — On Audacity Audacity is a currency and hierarchical position is a commodity. Audacity is mongered and strategically fought for by the individuals in the hierarchy. The curation of reason to defend hierarchical position is the constant spiritual process of consciousness. The criminal impulse is the inverse of the religious impulse. The religious impulse is faith in language, while the criminal impulse is the denial of language. Faith in language imbibes the community with trust in the natural selection of the hierarchy. Denial of language imbibes the community with mistrust in the natural selection of the hierarchy. From Fine Wine — Torment I am one with the wind. It pulls me from one corner of the hallway to the other, stretching me thin. I am pleasured by this feeling, and it's somehow disclosing secrets to me. I am the Father Almighty, it says — you are the holy son of God, it says. And that scares me, truly. I don't want to be the son of God. The son of God died a horrific terrible death. I am in the kitchen now, and the error of my ways is brought to my attention once again. What did I come in here for? That's right, I came in here following the wind. Where is that blasted breeze coming from? God has come down from his throne in heaven to sacrifice me to the devil. The devil has spoken with me before, and now I hear him again. He is pulling me out from under the kitchen counter. I must fight! From Fine Wine — Author's Note My primary reason for compiling these stories in this way is to communicate several things I believe are vital to understanding the present cultural and geopolitical thymos. I do not seek only truth. I seek a combination between truth and dare, allowing me to organize my mind around the substance of audacity. Audacity is a largely repressed emotion. It is repressed by the implementation of monotheistic theology into intellectual discourse. The naming of God caused us to isolate a particle of language to apply our entire structure of faith to. Restraining blasphemy towards God is how the emotion audacity is repressed. Audacity is gambling without the game.

From The Doorbell I hope this intelligence reaches you unharmed by the explosives settling in my raucous temptations. I am currently in solitude. I was caught pilfering the iron from the smiths. I have an acute personal attachment to the metal. Sincerely, all I planned to do with the little shards was collect them. The cell is smaller than the generic one and it is entirely a two way mirror. I can tell I am being watched. I wave at the walls with glee sometimes, knowing the filthy guards are watching me piss and wipe my ass. They tried getting a read on me again. It was some teenage-looking hotshot from some grandiose university who came in and wanted me to confess right when he entered. As if his holy face and heart would somehow convince me of my wrongdoing. What they need to understand is that they must analyze their own criminality before entering into a room with someone like me. They must be able to identify a darkness within themselves that is darker than what I possess and then capitalize on it. To answer your question, I find dishonesty is the greatest way to subvert the aggressive impulses of a human mind and body. If you treat truth as subservient to lies, and even truth as subservient to dare, then you will soon find that there are more outlets of aggression that are invisible to the people who witness you. I don't know why I trust you. Maybe it's because we are both dishonest people and the dishonest find honesty in dishonesty.

From Redemption Cherish the fruitful lamentation of Pandora, for the blood of Melpomene curdles! And by demanding the intercession of the muse, she breathes life into the words and harmonies woven by true melancholy. "I am not innocent," she cries to the chorus of Melpomene. "I accept the imposition upon me — relentless, foreboding woe!" "I was once a promising beauty, unfouled by the era; my jubilation for life — it rivaled no known nymph! But now, as I leave the Earth and its tempestuous glee, I understand the infinity of Destruction and Death." "My punishment is upon me," enraptured by fear — "the demons and angels have sewn their souls to mine to feed." Grasping hard, she starts to shout: "if I am meant to persevere through this faith-famished world, I summon the gods to halt me!" Pulsing with rage, Pandora slams the rock against her skull once — twice — thrice — "harder!" Dazed and with eyelids smogged red — "I knew my death was ordained! The sins enacted by my daring..." plummeting awareness... the impacts breaking all resolve... "I simply desired Truth," swaying — growing weaker. "Strike me down..." falling unconscious. From Zeus to Pandora: For nomads, Huntresses, and seafarers alike; the pyre That aches to scorch but never breathes in air — Contaminate the pores of the most broken, Heed the ghastly proclamations sung at twilight! I am warning the souls strewn from safety To tear the ulcers from their mouths and shout: I am Pandora! We hydrate the meek With uproarious glee unstifled!

From Golem — To the Poet Our worst excursion yet, on the dust of gravesites, perilously blackens the soul of any curious body. The relationship that we have, singed at the edge, permanent in its decapitation, won't bring you peace. Where is the guilt? Where is the pride? Pain through self-destruction is more harmful to humanity than pain by the destruction of another — one is the cause of the other. Love of insanity is of no truth. There is nothing more powerful than the glimpse that you will give this world, whether it be human, alien, or otherwise. You poets, alike to none in your vivacious superficiality, bludgeon the verve in us, kill our ambition, because if you don't, your power will lose its strength. Every instance that you harbor shame, you and your luscious vocabularies, eats away at our hearts, bite after bite. From Golem — To the Philosopher You are a disease! Your work, with supposed might, frenetically decomposes any faltering consciousness before it can even relay the contracted spells you shriek with pain. Groan! The mounds of betrayal in your spittling esophagus — heed this warning! From Golem — To the Criminal Don't be discouraged, dear one! We do not come in offense! We pamper you with holly tinsel, ivy garland, and golden roses, for your contribution to the craft of nature-subversion is hailed mighty as the proctoring of the truth itself. Oh, how you shamelessly pursue your wildest fantasies! True criminals are the most distraught out of all humanity, suffocating the poet underneath their superior knowledge of psychological and physical temptation.