But I wake every day, to the familiar lack of satisfaction and resolution, and all it can be is a spiritual need. The sense of erotic dissatisfaction becomes a dissatisfaction with the way the world is, with human consciousness, such as it is, with a sense of the huge failure of human society to be a part of nature's matrix. However you want to put it. It's just not working anymore, the whole model of selfish fossil fuel... Where do you begin to find a way out of it? No one can escape the environmental stuff.
And consciousness, exploring the higher, is the only way, given the failure of self-based limited consciousness, ego, etc., etc. The wine works, to an extent, but not really. It's too much apart of conventional wisdom, of the agricultural dominating business model. The wisdom of our hunter gatherer ancestors must be found deeper, further back, in botanical stuff.
The distracting psychological issues, the make up, the particular experience in any family might be as much related to the basic problem. The problem of boy meets girl, boy loses girl might be seen against a longer broader context, one which shows how selfish conventional thinking is ruining the world we live in. The problem of not having a great career is because of a deeper integrity toward the earth, the direct relationship a writer creates and experiences, has with the world. He writes what he sees, what he feels, what he thinks. That's too bare and exposed for most people, too much information.
Every day one is compelled to go off to work, out into the conventional world to please the powers that be, to go along with it.
Tonight, chance of rain, one hundred percent. (I get around on a bicycle, so I pay attention to weather conditions.) Chance of coming home to a lovely partner for some kind of beautiful relaxing life-affirming Tantric seance? Zero.
Living in suspended animation, always caught, unable to wriggle free.