P.M. Dawn

Enjoy The BLISS

The Bliss Album Monologue

See the spiritual Being, the Master of Melody, the Hardcore Heart, juggle between existing as Prince Be and the Nocturnal. The Quest, or the explanation of the Hardcore Heart. See him juggle, see him channel, see him diving for divinity beneath his sea of being. Far below the waves, he meets two facets of himself – Prince Be and The Nocturnal. In the Dawn, Prince Be of the Patient Eyes is just being, just trying to talk to God. Hoping to be blessed by the light inside. See-sawing for the balance of life in harmony. Sometimes he seems to get closer, then it all swings away. Still, his aura hangs as a halo; his brief brushed with holiness like the welcome kiss of a butterfly wing. Always glad to shade the invisible hand that pulls him back from throwing himself out the window. PM. The darker side of the divide, The Nocturnal, takes his turn eternal. Money is love in action, said Karl the Artist before he passed, to try out another of the twelve signs that bind us. The Nocturnal exults in success, values in the material world, the filth of the Rich – delusions, illusions are his stock in trade. The Nocturnal cries defiance, unafraid. The tougher, harder side of night that makes shine the other light. The epic journey, the great one that all must undertake, is like learning to drive a car. You get the feel of it after a while. Driving, driving, from the PM to the Dawn, the might is full of Midnight Sighs. Like the way we flail our fists when the light first hits our eyes, there must be a fear and anger, violent action, and hate. The, of necessity, there must be love to heal and resolve. Where the Nocturnal and Prince Be merge, does the Hardcore Heart begin? Here’s the fight of the Hardcore Heart. Fugitive realities shuffle before his eyes. Which one fits? Only a certain heart can penetrate: the infinite light that overshadows the moon. Hiding in hardness, the Plastic Posse never noticed that the light was out. Fear of feelings, frozen in fury: when the great thaw hits, the flaw flows in a flood. Will it Rain Cats and Dogs, one last time? Will we live Beyond Infinite Affections? If there is no what is felt, What is felt? Where’s the great warrior? Prophet? The man who cries only when his history of murders is unlocked in his heart? Or she who knows when, how to let go? A mental fighter not a physical fighter – a warrior of the mind. Why do we need understanding? It’s like breathing. All artists, all heartists, we want to be understood, want to understand. We have no choice. To Love Me More. To bask in that understanding, the warmth of being loved for your true self. Faces stare at each other through the window. Each side of the mirror, the intense regard. Till, the liquid mercury, all distance melts, and we merge. Submerge. To rise, being born anew, a different Quest, a fresh Path to pursue. The ultimate goal is the neutral zone. There, amid looming pyramids, is rest. Freedom of feelings flows within the reach of all…Peace. The Ghost of Christmas yet to come.