"Without a doubt i have you. Surely I see you. Thinking is the winde in which dreamers are drunk, I know. But sometimes I'd like to be dreamed of too. When you are like that in your book, all evening, sunk." (V. Hugo- words in the shadow.)
How utterly true, "thinking is the wine in which dreamers are drunk..."
introspective, autobiographical, "to really know myself" (aristotle)... all goals, never a reality. I love "thinking", in a way. Complexity adds to mystery, which appears alluring at first. After awhile it gets old, people feel like they have to walk on pins and needles around me. Its not true.
Solitary is elegant, it is in these moments when your heart can finally hurt. Its in these moments when the music life produces can finally move you. Its the time when dreams are dreamt, and suddenly realized. I guess you could say i wish i was perpetually intoxicated, on a different wine.