We retreat into our heads. Not really safe there either. But it's the last refuge.
I barricaded myself in my little home studio yesterday. Working on some new "self-recorded," "self-produced" music.
New songs. Kind of like those old cave paintings. Sitting in my little enclosed space, creating my own little world. Almost like a religious or "magic" act. Conjuring something inside. To bring outside later.
And the inside is just reflection of the outside. A facsimile. I sacrifice an idea on the altar of my own craving, and create a song with a little life of it's own.
And the world of momentousness just rages on.
