Melancholy -1891- (up), Two women at the beach -1898- (down), Edvard MunchShe knew I was falling out of love from the melancholy in the air between us. Sitting on the sand looking at her down by the water, with her white skin bursting out of her bikini, I knew she knew it was over.
What the fuck was wrong with me? She was intelligent and sexy. I guess it was the band. I knew there was some heavy career time up ahead and I didn't want to feel tied down to one person. I could feel subtle ever that was. But instead of clarifying my feelings and saying something to Donna, I just started to be mean to her.
We weren't making love anymore, we were making sex, at least from my point of view. Going through the motions, Instead of talking about it, I just became cold.
It was starting. I was being drawn and quartered. I was making a choice between a beautiful, intuitive girl and our music, which had resc
ued me from my middle-class suburban background. Did I have to choose? I don't know.
You see, we never talked. In any event, the choice was made. The thrill was gone.
What the fuck was wrong with me? She was intelligent and sexy. I guess it was the band. I knew there was some heavy career time up ahead and I didn't want to feel tied down to one person. I could feel subtle ever that was. But instead of clarifying my feelings and saying something to Donna, I just started to be mean to her.
We weren't making love anymore, we were making sex, at least from my point of view. Going through the motions, Instead of talking about it, I just became cold.
It was starting. I was being drawn and quartered. I was making a choice between a beautiful, intuitive girl and our music, which had resc
ued me from my middle-class suburban background. Did I have to choose? I don't know.You see, we never talked. In any event, the choice was made. The thrill was gone.
John Densmore (The Doors). Riders On the Storm
