Funk: A Declaration of Independence

when in the course of history it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the emotional bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of Mother Earth and the Divine Wow!, the separate and individual station to which the Laws of Nature and of The Funk entitle them, a decent respect to the differing opinions of humankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to separation.

i hold these truths to be self-evident, that all of Creation is Good in the eyes of the Funk, and that all of Creation are endowed by the Multi-Versal Jiggy Snake certain unalienable Rights, and that among These are the rights to Freedom, Love, and Funktastic Ecstasy --a Happiness so huge it's like an environmentally friendly, psychedelic mushroom cloud in the center of your brain.

and i, the representative of my Self as the Bootylicious Delena of the Funkywild, in lone congress and assembled on every plane of existence, appealing to the Supreme Funk of the Multiverse for the kick-assness of my Will and Word, do, in the name of the Funkalicious Jive, and by the authority vested in me by the Inner Demon Wranglers of Babylon, the Pomegranate Priestesses of the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail, and the weird guy next door, declare:

i am Passion.

i have always been Passion. i shall always be Passion.

i am as i have been, as i am, as i always shall be. so the fuck mote it be.

further. . .

i declare an abdication of the feeling of responsibility and obligation to those who have heretofore felt it necessary to lecture, warn, wheedle, guilt-trip, beg, convince, or otherwise influence me as to the perceived negative effects of my Passion. i recognize their concern and give them joyful thanks in all the orgiastically ecstatic enthusiasm of which i am fully capable.

however, i still declare no further obligation to listen or otherwise pay attention to their fear and lack of understanding. i am Passion and these things are my essence. nocturnal mistress and spirit lover, my mouth of wine and woodsmoke taste.

on my lips sparkle tumescent intentions,
upon the tip of my tongue is the beast
inside of you,
goddess of the violet twilight.

i can leap from the dizzying heights, and where others gasp and stare at their own mortality...i only laugh. and however merciless is my fall, have i ever failed to land on my own two feet?

i declare a resounding "FUCK YOU!" is in order for every single time i've heard someone wish i would be more careful, for every single time i've heard it said my passion scares someone. because, for every single time i've heard thus, i've also heard the wish that someone else's life were as colorful as mine. i've also heard the yearning for half as much guts and gumption as i possess, and yet i've seen no willingness to get up and possess that passion. they watch on the sidelines. . .

. . . and yet i am called the fool.

i declare myself sick and tired of it! i declare my ears henceforth deaf to the dispassionate and fearful! i declare myself blind to the disapproval and misunderstanding --though well-intentioned-- caution! i declare i have had ENOUGH!!!

i declare that i dare someone to stand up and match me, passion for passion.

i declare myself Passion, gods damn it all. i declare myself free to walk around naked in my own home should i so choose. i declare my right to thunderous, neighbor-waking sex, and ice cream whenever i want it. i declare uninhibited access to prudent recklessness and unrestrained providence. i demand total immersion in trust, and affectionate euphemisms which inspire mock performance art in trickster rock stars with soulFunk.

i have spoken, godsdammit.

may the Funk be with you.


[ps. admire my picture. it took me two freaking hours to make it because photoshop was a fucktard. *nod*]