I drove 200 miles...and managed to find your lair deep in the forest. But now that I've seen you, kissed you, and spoken to you, I can go.
An old priest once told me that a good relationship between a man and a woman has two components: a good friendshipand unshakable eroticism.
We spend our entire lives wondering about death...and what comes after this. And then it's this easy. In music I sometimes get just a glimmer. Like with Bach.
I'm not sad. It's worse. It's some hellish anxiety. It's bigger than me. It's trying to push its way out through every orifice...my eyes, my skin, my asshole. It's like a gigantic, total mental diarrhea! It's coming out everywhere. I'm too small for my anxiety.
Things are as always with me. In good order. Everything in its place. Perhaps I'm a bit lonely. I don't know. Sometimes... I think about Anna. I wonder how she managed her life. How she spoke...how she moved. Her gaze...that almost imperceptible smile. Anna's feelings. Anna's love.
When I got back, I visited my daughter Martha at the home. And I thought...about the mysterious fact...that for the first time in our life together...I realized...I felt...that I was touching my daughter. My child.
It turned into a night of...a night of distance. Anna fell sound asleep...but I lay awake, listening to her breathing. I watched her in the light from a streetlamp outside the window. I gazed at her for a long time...and wondered if...deep down inside...she knew how much I'd grown to be a part of her. Or actually... how much she'd grown to be a part of me. With Anna and me, it was a question of belonging.You understand what I mean? And that belonging was...a miracle. I know that sounds pretentious...but there's no better word.