Within each of us there is a potent lifeforce, fiery and primal and mad to experience everything that there is. But in the rush to do so it wears itself down, becomes dull and sluggish and apathetic. Constrained by custom and obligation, forced to be tame and small by society. As it retreats in on itself it creates a vacancy within the soul and bad shit takes root there. Ancestral wounds bubbling forth, madness born of repression that lashes out violently and blindly. A poison that spreads and infects others until a community goes down in flames. Left to our own devices we’d endlessly be running around in torment, inflicting pain on our fellows until no one’s left and we’re all alone. But then the stranger steps in. He’s been here before and knows the way out. He knows the words that take the pain away, he knows how to shake you up and loosen your bonds so that you can break free and run wild in the woods. He can make you burn, make you feel alive again. He knows the songs. He knows the dances. He knows everything you’re afraid of – and how to build you back up after he’s destroyed you. Once he’s done that you belong to him and he’ll look out for you. He’ll even come back for you when your days are done and seduce you into the next world, bull-horned death with the eyes of Eros. Eyes that will watch you dance in the heavens with the fire-breathing stars, drunk for all eternity.
