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imagine the slow-released madness placed under the tongue
my friend and I have a bet that his face is too tight under his skin, a pale ghost milked by his masters to prolong life in the dark place
where it’s too hard to see tomorrow,
by now she could see the decades of self-sacrifice, a mind-at-large in hyperspace. She was long gone by now though.
Me – just another caged animal let out for mom’s amusement.
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Hi, I'm Clay Lowe. I'm a narrative alchemist working at the intersection of depth psychology, chaos magick, alchemy, mythic imagination, and myth-making in the AI age. I treat stories as spiritual technology, the code we use to construct reality. I design games and tools, and create practices for inner transformation and self-mastery.
