Discover more from Highway B by Brantly Martin
Wednesday Psalm - Lunar Dust: Consha
The lunar dust Consha arrives by song...
Lunar Dust: Consha
The lunar dust Consha arrives by song and is considered by many the only lunar dust aware of its nature.
Non-lyrical, Consha arrives as a song you can’t get out of your head. A song you begin humming along to, unaware you’ve entered a conversation. A song you can’t quite place, but assume you’ve heard before—how else would it be stuck in your head? A song you keep humming and adding to and adding to and humming. The song, a song you invent and create as you hum, increases its intensity as you get closer and closer to “getting it right”—to nailing the song that is the lunar dust Consha. It’s different every time, but it’s always Consha. Once you arrive—once the song can’t be taken any further—you’ll enter a headspace never to be replicated. A headspace that is a perfect conversation in the shape of an imperfect circle. A headspace that can’t be digitized. A headspace that soon passes. The lunar dust Consha is the only lunar dust from within, but when you try to summon it, try to demand its presence, you’ll fail. The lunar dust Consha is the only lunar dust that can’t be bought or sold.
The lunar dust Consha is considered a psychotic delusion by those yet to hum.
I access this dimension through lunar dust — lots and lots of lunar dust. If you enjoy Highway B, consider supporting my lunar dust habit by buying a book.