I think you start into trouble when you switch from years of wanting to watch music album vs live, to live. I want to see them now, look in their faces. See.
But what do my eyes know truly. Only projections of myself.
What am I looking for?
Something alive, some integration of art and sorrow and intellectualism that created something that came from an emotional human.
Seems impossible, most days. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0t0EW6z8a0
I just want this life. And this one: 8 1/2. And this one: Sula. And this one: Mine. Me. Mine.
I thought 8 1/2 was based on Jungian and Freudian psychoanalysis. I was right. I wrote a thesis on it, then forgot it.
Who cares.
I could disappear today and be fine with that.
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Listen..
It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.
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