PURE ROCKETS // Jón Múli Egilsson Prunner

PURE ROCKETS
Jón Múli Egilsson Prunner

Visualize the sun. I want to worship the sun. I want to exit the hall of mirrors. I want to break out of the velvet prison industrial complex. I want to move so slow that its hardly noticeable. Like shadows moving in the daylight. A boy keeps the sun inside of him. Firewood burns - the sun shines even during the night. I want to believe in Pure Rockets. I want to be everything and nothing all at once. I want to be focused and sharp, incoherent and mad all simultaneously. I want to sleep for 15 years and emerge in the spring younger than I was when I closed my eyes. I want to be terrified of the paths that lay before me. I want to feel insurmountable fear and terror but resist the urge to run. I want to travel at unimaginable speeds. I want to walk through walls and read your mind. See into the future and alter the past. I want to construct an immense tower with a facade of Doric columns and statues of young athletic men engaged in acts of love and heroism. I want to be entombed under a giant dome. I want to live in gilded squalor. I want to sleep in a great vermillion hall. The sun is a god, you can’t look at it. Only when a cloud passes by can you make out its divine halo penetrating through. A gilded disc called Amun or Amaterasu or Sól that illuminates every valley, gives life to every living thing - all celestial bodies spiralling around its axis forever falling into pure blinding eternal light.

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