you know it lives in all of us. we all have at least a little fire in there. without it, no one would have a sparkle in their eye. no one would be getting punk'd. that little dollop of fire burning in your soul is half blessing, half curse. at times, we are unable to moderate it, and the fire ends up burning those we love - not to mention ourselves. at other times, it helps us talk to people. open up and chat them up ... about anything: god and religion and war and sex. it helps us give amazing blow jobs and get up on stage and rock out, screaming until our throats are raw. it gives us energy, creativity, and that skill so vital in the work-force: shit-disturbing.chemically speaking, the devil is dopamine. but back in the day when the concept of evil was being created and all - or back when evil was being created and all, depending on your beliefs - we didn't know too much about our brains. hell we didn't know they existed. we just went with the flow, and that flow included evil. because we saw the negative in this world and had to label that shit.
and we haven't been able to solely accept things at face value since its discovery.
even those who are not religious - such as myself - cannot only see this world in clinical terms 100% of the time. humans need story, we must use our imaginations - fired by the same neurotransmitter, naturally - to understand things. to make things more exciting. because what exactly is thrilling about synaptic clefts, anyway?the devil inside daniel johnston - his manic depression - thrives right under his skin, just waiting to be released. it tries to find loopholes in the meds, tries to break loose. what gives daniel johnston his genius is the same fire that not only heats, but burns.
thusly, the devil is a quintessential metaphor for understanding manic
depression.
the devil made a pact with me, without my consent. that fucker forged my signature and i didn't get a word in edgewise. i don't know why. for some reason he decided to go the route of the tease... give a taste of the good he is capable of, without any of his darkness. no bite marks.
but he's not gone for good. he's just waiting. in the tiny bits that make up amphetamines. he's waiting for all of us. we have a new forbidden fruit.
and with that, i'm back.
