Steve Earle--Lonely are the Free

Monroe 2022-03-02 08:01:41

The closing credits of "Leaves of Grass" that brought me to tears at the end, with Steve Earl on old kapok guitar and hoarse voice -- are as meaningful as the title: loneliness is freedom.
As I get older, fortunately, my troubles seem to be less and less. Unfortunately, sometimes I always feel down, and a feeling as thin as a thread keeps dangling in my mind.

Not every good movie has resonant music, Steve sang it. Just like when you are sad, you just want to hear Faye Wong's unique and long abyss voice, and also have the quiet feeling of Eason Chan. As if singing it to myself, the feeling in the author's heart is also the perfect description of the feeling of exhaustion I feel after watching a movie late at night.

Lonely. The emotion that human beings cannot overcome is the loneliness of losing a brother, the loneliness of losing a career, and the loneliness of losing a parent. Abandoning the hustle and bustle of the world and experiencing the grief of life and death, loneliness will become the deepest feeling in the heart, even in the crowd, the sad moment that is not felt by others will arise spontaneously.

This hoarse voice is like the depression and uneasiness in my heart when I sit in a KTV. The chaotic local English is like the feeling of countless noisy voices echoing in the ears. Looking at the blades of grass, I was about to finish listening to this ending, I heard the whole room darken, and I heard the sound of my lonely heartbeat.
Just like the feeling of cannabis slowly invading the body, I want to laugh, and I want to indulge and suppress.

View more about Leaves of Grass reviews

Extended Reading
  • Dagmar 2022-03-19 09:01:10

    Starring Edward Norton, you can't go wrong. Called "Leaves of Grass Cannabis" on Youku

  • Raleigh 2022-03-29 09:01:08

    Edward Norton's one-man show!

Leaves of Grass quotes

  • Janet: You still leaving tomorrow.

    Bill Kincaid: I think so.

    Janet: I'll miss you.

    Bill Kincaid: And we barely know each other.

    Janet: "You have not known what you are. You have slumbered upon yourself all your life. Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time. What you have done returns already in mockeries. The mockeries are not you. Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk."

    Bill Kincaid: [absorbing what she'd just quoted] Who was that?

    Janet: Walt Whitman.

    Bill Kincaid: I don't think I ever imagined hearing him recited to me by a girl gutting a 40 pound catfish.

    Janet: That's exactly how he should be recited. He wrote without rhyme or meter. Free verse. Just whatever he felt inside coming out in one intricate rhythm. Pure unashamed passion, without definable restriction.

    Bill Kincaid: I'm sorry, see, I have a few issues with that.

    Janet: Why?

    Bill Kincaid: Because some have dared to suggest that even poetry has rules.

    Janet: Or you make your own.

    Bill Kincaid: Right there, that's the part I never bought into.

    Janet: Because?

    Bill Kincaid: If everybody runs around making their own rules, how can you ever find what's true? There's nothing... there's nothing to rely on.

    Janet: "One night, I split my cicada skin, devoured your leaves, knowing no poison, no law of nourishment in that larval blindness, a hunger finally true."

    Bill Kincaid: Who's that?

    Janet: That's me.

  • Brady Kincaid: I ain't gonna manufacture or purvey anything that I ain't gonna ingest into my own sweet self.