about Bob Dylan (drunk)

You know what? I’ve been listening to a lot of classical solo piano tonight. Debussy, Chopin, some Bach(hm..)… but for some reason I was thrown, suddenly, towards Dylan. It’s an odd moment in life when you realize, I mean truly realize that there’s been another person who’s been through life… you know? Who’s walked the same roads in a way, who’s felt… maybe seen the world through a prism that’s somewhat familiar to yours.

This clip up above reminded me how versatile his music is. The song “Visions of Johanna” meant something completely different to me a few years back. I was naive then, I believed in true love and the song played me a ballad of someone who’d missed it. But now it’s taken on a new meaning. No… I was naive then, but… It was an inherent, musical, genius, passionate naivete that Dylan spoke to.

When I hear Visions of Johanna now… I hear the slow ticking mercury clock of love. I hear a past love and feel the rain of the night. I feel the massive regret and inevitability of change. I feel something that I felt when I first laid in my bed at twelve years old, listening to  “Times They Are A-Changing” and felt that my soul had been kicked open.

When you fall in love… it moves everything around. It makes you alive for a little while. Then you lose her, but if you’re lucky you fall in love again, maybe even two times if the numbers are right. So how can this scrappy looking kid from Duluth, Minnesota make me fall in love again, and again, and again? And also, just what am I falling in love with?



I have no idea, but I’m glad I came out of the nothing and he was here.



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