I see the ghosts of culture on an open thread

10

Who can’t relate?

A Street
Leonard Cohen
I used to be your favorite drunk
Good for one more laugh
Then we both ran out of luck
Luck was all we ever had
You put on a uniform
To fight the Civil War
You looked so good I didn’t care
What side you’re fighting for
It wasn’t all that easy
When you up and walked away
But I’ll save that little story
For another rainy day
I know the burden’s heavy
As you wheel it through the night
Some people say it’s empty
But that don’t mean it’s light
You left me with the dishes
And a baby in the bath
You’re tight with the militias
You wear their camouflage
You always said we’re equal
So let me march with you
Just an extra in the sequel
To the old red white and blue
Baby don’t ignore me
We were smokers, we were friends
Forget that tired story
Of betrayal and revenge
I see the ghost of culture
With numbers on his wrist
Salute some new conclusion
That all of us have missed
I cried for you this morning
And I’ll cry for you again
But I’m not in charge of sorrow
So please don’t ask me when
There may be wine and roses
And magnums of champagne
But we’ll never know
We’ll never, ever be that drunk again
Okay
The party’s over
But I’ve landed on my feet
And I’m standing here on this corner
Where there used to be a street
The party’s over
But I’ve landed on my feet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
So let’s drink to when its over
And let’s drink to when we met
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street

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Marc
Marc
5 years ago

Wonderful. He lived the
life we all would like to live.

All things the gods bestow, the infinite ones
On their darlings completely.
All the joys, the infinite ones
All the pains, the infinite ones, completely.

(Goethe)

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

Georg Stefan Troller wrote in his autobiography that the Jews were
the last in the world who could feel romantic feelings. Without ever
slipping into the sentimental. The source of her extraordinary imagi-
nation. With them heart and soul are not separated as with all others.

Marc
Marc
5 years ago

Before the great crash, I was a great indestructible “romantic”: I believed in love, in
the illusion that other people understand the world as I do. But it was a mistake, we
all live in our own ideas, and each one reads a different book, even if he holds the
same in his hand. Now I am a rationalist. Never again shall another man gain power
over me. I’ve learned to endure myself, accept myself, like myself. A long. long way.

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

Or as Troller wrote: the former emotio-
nal clay has baked into mental bricks.

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

With toxic lovers it is like with mean teachers: the first encounter shapes. If you have found
someone who encourages you and believes in you, you are a lucky one. A lottery win, one
in a million. If you have pulled the rivet, a grip in the toilet, you will be punished for your life.

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

“Old love does not rust”. With my “great love” at that time we lived a few steps
away from the beach, in a beautiful art nouveau house with cypresses in front
of it, white columns at the entrance. At night we went to “Old Love”, drank wine
and loved each other under a clear starry sky to the sound of the waves. How
naive we were. The most exciting times of our oung lives. All in all, I had the pri-
vilege of experiencing the most extraordinary moments that others are denied.
https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alte_Liebe_(Cuxhaven)

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

It’s too funny: My love at that time was born on 14 June
1968, she had a birthday with Pamela on the same day.
Today she’s been married for a long time and has child-
ren with another man, like I’ve kids with another woman.

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

Looking back, I must sum up that I neglected her too much, I was immature, and not
able to cope with her personality. At the latest the hints of my acquaintances, who said:
“We always see your girlfriend walking alone in the park”, should have woken me up. She
was so curious, and I so comfortable. She had moved out several times, and yet she kept
coming back to me. I did not understand her message. One day she stayed away, forever.

Marc
Marc
5 years ago
Reply to  Marc

The neighbors were so sweet, typical Frisians. I shouldn’t shave, the lady
said, it would look much nicer. “Where is our little gilfriend with the jeans
dungarees and the cheeky blonde pageboy cut?” I didn’t know it myself.

Gene Kinney
Gene Kinney
5 years ago

Amen!…Where there used to be a street!

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Thanks for sharing!