BLUE PILL

dэΔd

<SET>
When night and day alike
have fallen sloppy dead,
nothing comforts anxiety
like a little nostalgia.
Rehallucinating a role play from the past?
So déjà vu, and yet obviously all wrong.
But maybe this isn't the story we think it is.
</SET>

<SETTING>
One day in the Great Above the Goddess of [CHAOS|LOVE] set her mind to the Great Below. Setting aside both dusk and dawn, she put on her most glorious robes, held her scepter of power in one hand and her potion of wonder in the other, and descended to the netherworld to pay a visit to her sister, the Queen of the Dead. Through a total of seven gates, at each one giving up a piece of clothing, the Goddess arrived naked. Unadorned and deprived of power, the Queen hung her on a hook like a rotting corpse.
</SETTING>

Ʊи/dэΔd

RE/SURRECT

CHOICE?

IN/SURRECT

яэ/вøяи

<SETTING>
As the divinity of unprocessed shame – the un-glorious self, the scornful, lonely, unforgiving and betrayed self, the Queen spends her life moaning and groaning; giving birth to herself, we can assume. Yet, the Queen is also the keeper of secrets and much power. Two genderless creatures sent to the Great Below to rescue the Goddess of Chaos heard the Queen of the Dead and heeded her loud laments. By echoing her woes, the creatures turned her pain to compassion and the Goddess was released. From the Great Below the Goddess of Chaos set her mind to the Great Above.
</SETTING>

<SET>
They made you believe
their world was all you deserved,
but some part of you knew that was a lie.
Some part of you remembered what was real.
When security wipes community
and promiscuity is a sin,
feed your [HEAD].
</SET>

вøяи

RED PILL



Following another    🐇  Matrix  winter, a season of rebirth has started: the sun is out and migrating birds are returning. We are out of lockdown and Gegen is back with a new look and new surprises. Resurrections are all around us and we are ready to celebrate! But what is a resurrection when death is feared and life is just trite repetition?

Strip naked through the halls of descent.
Shed shame and woe with joyful tears of sympathy.
Fill your head with sensation
and endless fascination
that no one can give you.
Progress does not exist.


GEGEN Resurrections