I am playing catchup.
I spend my days in the present and my nights cultivating my innate curious connection to the past.
I see myself in the groupies, sweet talking my way into the first Byrds show at the Troubadour. I feel the dissatisfaction in Jim Morrison's blood, his poetry pumps through my veins. I want to pick up his copy of William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell to thumb the pages he dogeared. His footnotes would spur a great debate between us, because how does one break down the doors of perception?
I sit in a Panton chair next to Timothy Leary as we take LSD and live to analyze his mental state while under the influence. He would tell me all about his trip and I'd lay back and put myself in his shoes, interpreting his rants. I sit smiling up in the Hollywood Hills on a couch next to Rick Rubin listening to Flea tune his bass and John would tell me why we are all fucking delusional. Marilyn Manson would sell me on Satanism and I might lend him my copy of Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morals.
I want to disappear here with Bret Easton Ellis, to experience existential crisis with John Fowles, and to shoot the shit with Charles Bukowski.
I want to be them, I want to be with them. I want to be their confidants and for them to show me their secret Los Angeles. To take me to shows or to recite poetry on the fly with. I want to slow dance on their persian rugs.
Nietzsche wrote "Present experience has, I am afraid, always found us 'absent minded': we cannot give our hearts to it - not even our ears!" ... "So we are necessarily strangers to ourselves, we do not comprehend ourselves, we have to misunderstand ourselves, for us the law 'Each is furthest from himself' applies to all eternity - we are not 'men of knowledge' with respect to ourselves."
(from on the genealogy of morals)
Their past has become my present. They are all my philosophers, and each one offers a page in my Basic Writings.
Beach House - Real Love