Music:Twilight - Elliott Smith - From A Basement On The Hill
I found this in one of my old notebooks. Although the entries do not have dates -- very uncharacteristic of me -- I know that it was written early in 1991:
If I speak to the you I know, I err, equating past and present. But if I acknowledge change, that you are not now who you were when I really knew you, I surrender all hope of privileged conversation: we become two people who have just met, pastless, pointlessly engaged in attempts at mutual understanding.
While I now regard the conclusion I reach in this fragment as unnecessarily bleak, the problem it confronts is one that is always in my mind at the moment. How can we be free of the past without falling into the bondage of a life without history?