Only Child

I’ve been thinking. This could potentially be extremely outdated news for some of you, but anyway, I’ve come to the conclusion that the suffering or the bad memories are just as important as the good memories and the good experiences. If you can imagine life as being 99% of the time quite linear, then it becomes apparent that most of the time you’re in a state of neither happiness nor sadness. In that 1% of the time, you experience moments of very crystalized happiness, or sadness, or loneliness, or depression, and I believe all of those moments are potent. For me it’s mostly those crystalized moments of melancholy that are more of an inspiration to me. In a strange way they become quite beautiful in their own way.  Music that is sad or melancholic is, in a kind of perverse way, more uplifting. I mostly find happy music extremely depressing. It’s particularly this happy music that has no spirituality behind it. If it’s just mindless party music, it’s quite depressing really because it’s so empty. This stems from my belief that happiness is something that can be faked, and can easily be put into a malleable medium such as music. What’s important is that sadness or whatever other feeling of melancholia is not so easily fabricated from scratch, which is why depression is so closely linked to loneliness because we’re not surrounded by a culture that embraces sadness. But, largely speaking, I’d say I’ve always been the kind of person who responds more to melancholia, and it makes me feel good. I think the reason for this is if you respond strongly to that kind of art it’s because, in a way, it makes you feel like you’re not alone. So, when we hear a very sad song, for instance, it makes us realize that we do share this common human experience. We’re all bonded in sadness, or melancholia, or depression.

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I have the strangest dreams before surgery.

So, he knocks me out with gas like the old days. You know how he would knock you out, then you’d wake up and the dentist would have finished whatever he was going to do (rip your teeth out or whatever it is). Anyway, in this dream I’m at the dentist and I wake up from the procedure. Instead of removing my tooth, the dentist hands me my head, and it’s in this kind of glass goldfish bowl. And, I take it from him and put it under my arm. So, I’m carrying my head under my arm. I’m walking out of the dentist surgery, and the dentist and the dental nurses are standing at the top of the steps smiling and waving. It’s like something out of Little House on the Prairie or something. As I’m walking down the steps with my head I trip over and fall down the steps, and my head rolls down the steps and it rolls across the street. On the other side of the road there’s this field of corn, and my head rolls into this field of corn and out of sight. I’m crawling across the road on my hands and knees and into this corn field searching with my hands to try and find my head. Then, I think to myself, “I’m dreaming in reverse.”