Fuck how much more I would have loved to be young in the glorious years of the 60’s and and 70’ties.
I’ve just watched Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for the third or fourth time. Finding myself thinking in the end about the lifework of Hunter S Thompson. Somehow in my mind releasing that even his work was tainted by his own pretentiousness.
And then again, that’s why I would have loved to be born earlier. Things don’t seam to have been all that serious back then and more importantly, we did not think that we knew everything. We where not the conscience of the world and the pretentious pricks we are today.
Yes, the hippies were dancing, swearing of wars and pollution. Which we as well do today. But they seemed to enjoy the parts in between so much more.
Feel’s like we did not try to find the wrong in everything like a odd game of finding Waldo before. Why is it so important to point out all the wrongs? Missing the amazing ride going on in the periphery.
It’s hard to put my finger on and describe the feeling in words, which might make you understand the emptiness and melancholic I feel in some parts of which is today.
And yeah, I admit it. I’m a bit drunk and a wee bit high in anticipation for monday. I had the whole weekend to prepare for a deadline without a real end except for when it’s time to actually show what I’ve come up with.