Thoughts in Progress

As much as my mother in sickness talks about my bank account and money, as much I think about time. The concept of creativity manifests more thoroughly and for the first time perhaps I look at Freud as a human being. As a creature with a soul. His struggle to show the truth to others.
I admit I had tears in my eyes when I realised his fight and determined will over decades (Alan Parson’s Project talking about fools in the back of my mind again).

All this power, without a kingdom.

I understand quite a bit about the life of a creative mind lately.I don’t expect the Goethe prize yet hope for a little recognition for all the mental work.
Society labels you creative when you fulfill certain criteria. What is the truth worth when you cannot pass it on.
To do further research into this field I once again asked for the help from the dead, a dead – still can’t get my head round the idea that people like John Fowles are allowed to die. Well, I began reading an early work of his “The Collector”. Indeed it is as much about a compulsive and excessive individual as the title suggests. However you can see clearly how he made the first steps in the world of psycho-literature. Soul searching of a different kind.

Thoughts in progress. No trespassing.

This weekend I have to think about what to do this summer… or even Easter.

Were you aware that throughout Freud’s career seven of his close friends committed suicide?

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