Automatic for the People, Van Gogh, and the Fear of Never Arriving

Feel and sense.

Taste the world. If weight comes, carry it. No feeling is final and happiness is not a destination.

December 2025

Riding back from the national palace in Portugal.

LB narrates her life, relating it to the book she is reading ‘Hamilton’, written based on his letters. I mention that what made Van Gogh famous was his letters exchanged with his brother, Theo. She rings in that she is a huge Van Gogh fan, having visited the museum in Amsterdam.

The timing reminded me of A Walk in the Clouds... just serendipity. Dusk was coming on and rain was beginning to blacken the village roof and cobbles while we sped down the mountain. Automatic for the People working its way through me. Mentioned Starry Night. Then the fields. Then the end.

Hitting the mark much?

Van Gogh has always frightened me—not because of the myth of madness, but because of the proximity. His hunger to see the world exactly as it was and then render it honestly. His inability to numb himself. His dependence on beauty as oxygen. I want to be this man. I fear being this man! Color and motion aren't just tools, but vitality. He was an observer, a recorder. A collector and a keeper.

Automatic is the kind of record that understands levels of awareness and how dangerous it can be to see so clearly.

Ignorance, as you know, is bliss.

Drive

Surrender... but not giving up or in. A voice speaking to youth, to momentum and inevitability. It isn’t despairing—it’s acknowledging that much of life happens whether we want it to or not. Age is a good example. Responsibility accumulates like porcelain clowns. Ever wonder how you got ALL THAT stuff in to your home? One grain of sand at a time, that's how. We wake up mid-journey look at life objectively and realize we didn’t choose the road, only what lane we're in and how fast we walk.

Try Not To Breathe

Closer to the fear. Not death as spectacle, but death as inheritance—watching parents age, preparing for losses before they arrive. It doesn’t beg for escape. It steadies itself and says: this is not a failure of love; this is love doing its work.

And that work is vital. The steady moving toward the goal. Van Gogh didn’t lack passion. He lacked relief.

The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite

Misalignment—about speaking clearly and still not being understood. Van Gogh wrote letter after letter trying to translate himself to a world that didn’t have the vocabulary yet. I write too. I record. I shape sentences like bridges, hoping someone will cross them. And a thankful at least one has.

That impulse isn’t insanity. It’s loneliness looking for language.

Everybody Hurts

Pain, but not drama. Embracing the hurt without anasthesia. It simply says: stay. Don’t convert suffering into identity. Don’t mistake pain for destiny. That song exists because sensitive people nneed permission to endure without explanation.

The instrumental pause that follows feels essential—space for the nervous system to exhale. Silence as care. One wonders how different Van Gogh’s story might have been if embracing had been offered instead of judgment.

Sweetness Follows

The quiet moral center. Not happiness. Not redemption. Sweetness. Something modest and survivable that comes after loss if one remains present long enough to notice it. Van Gogh never lived to see the sweetness that followed his work. I am still alive inside mine. That difference matters.

Monty Got a Raw Deal

Beware the mythmaking. Against flattening human beings into cautionary tales or romantic archetypes. Van Gogh has been turned into a symbol at the expense of his humanity, and sensitive men are still quietly harmed by the suggestion that suffering is the price of authenticity. It isn’t.

Ignoreland

Anger exist without letting it rule. The world is unjust. Loud. Brash. Careless. Clashing symbols. Feeling despair in response doesn’t mean one is broken—it means one is awake.

Star Me Kitten

A whisper. Intimacy without performance. The desire not to be rescued or exalted, but simply seen while tired. This is where I felt myself soften. This is what I want most often: rest inside connection.

Man on the Moon

Pushing back against myth again. Meaning lives in contradiction. Humor and grief are not enemies. Neither are reason and wonder. Van Gogh was not a symbol. I am not a verdict!

Nightswimming

mourns innocence without declaring the future bankrupt. It remembers moments of alignment and insists they mattered simply because they existed. That insistence feels important when fear whispers that happiness is something other people reach and I somehow missed.

Find the River

No command. No solution. Just acceptance. Stop fighting the current. Stop demanding a final judgment on a life that is still in motion.

Van Gogh didn’t die because he never found happiness. He died because he lived in a time that didn’t know how to care for minds like his. He lacked support, treatment, and rest.

Romanticizing his end does violence to the living.

I am not standing alone in a field. I am in a car, in Portugal, with music, conversation, memory, and tears that come from recognition—not from collapse. Fear visited me. But fear is not prophecy.

If Automatic for the People teaches anything:

sensitivity is not madness. Awareness is not doom. Happiness is not a permanent destination one either reaches or fails to reach.

More like moments of alignment—music at dusk, a shared admiration, a hand on the rail.

And for now, that is enough.

Automatic for the People

REM – 1992

“Drive”

Smack, crack, bushwhacked Tie another one to your racks, baby Hey kids, rock and roll Nobody tells you where to go, baby

What if I ride, what if you walk? What if you rock around the clock? Tick-tock, tick-tock What if you did, what if you walk? What if you tried to get off, baby?

Hey, kids, where are you? Nobody tells you what to do, baby Hey kids, shake a leg Maybe you're crazy in the head, baby

Maybe you did, maybe you walked Maybe you rocked around the clock Tick-tock, tick-tock Maybe I ride, maybe you walk Maybe I drive to get off, baby

Hey kids, shake a leg Maybe you're crazy in the head, baby Ollie, ollie, ollie ollie ollie Ollie ollie in come free, baby

Hey, kids, where are you? Nobody tells you what to do, baby

Smack, crack, shack-a-lack Tie another one to your backs, baby Hey kids, rock and roll Nobody tells you where to go, baby

Maybe you did, maybe you walk Maybe you rock around the clock Tick-tock, tick-tock Maybe I ride, maybe you walk Maybe I drive to get off, baby

Hey kids, where are you? Nobody tells you what to do, baby Hey kids, rock and roll Nobody tells you where to go, baby, baby, baby

“Try Not To Breathe”

I will try not to breathe. I can hold my head still with my hands at my knees. These eyes are the eyes of the old, shiver and fold. I will try not to breathe. This decision is mine. I have lived a full life And these are the eyes that I want you to remember. Oh.

I need something to fly over my grave again. I need something to breathe. I will try not to burden you. I can hold these inside. I will hold my breath Until all these shivers subside, Just look in my eyes.

I will try not to worry you. I have seen things that you will never see. Leave it to memory me. I shudder to breathe. I want you to remember. Oh. (you will never see) I need something to fly (something to fly) Over my grave again. (you will never see)

I need something to breathe. (something to breathe) Baby, don't shiver now. Why do you shiver now? (I will see things you will never see) I need something to fly (something to fly) Over my grave again. (I will see things you will never see) I need something to breathe. Oh. Oh. Oh.

I will try not to worry you. I have seen things that you will never see. Leave it to memory me. Don't dare me to breathe. I want you to remember. Oh. (you will never see) I need something to fly (something to fly) Over my grave again. (you will never see)

I need something to breathe. (something to breathe) Baby, don't shiver now. Why do you shiver now? (I will see things you will never see) I need something to breathe. (something to breathe – I have seen things you will never see) I want you to remember.

“The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite”

This here is the place where I will be staying There isn't a number, you can call the pay phone Let it ring a long, long, long, long time If I don't pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more, oh If I don't pick up, pick up The sidewinder sleeps, sleeps, sleeps in a coil

Call me when you try to wake her up, call me when you try to wake her Call me when you try to wake her up, call me when you try to wake her Call me when you try to wake her up, call me when you try to wake her, oh

There are scratches all around the coin slot Like a heartbeat, baby trying to wake up But this machine can only swallow money You can't lay a patch by computer design It's just a lot of stupid, stupid signs

Tell her Tell her she can kiss my ass Then laugh and say that you were only kidding That way she'll know that it's really, really, really, really me

Baby, instant soup doesn't really grab me Today I need something more sub-sub-sub-substantial A can of beans or black-eyed peas, some Nescafe and ice A candy bar, a falling star, or a reading from Doctor Seuss

The cat in the hat came back, wrecked a lot of havoc on the way Always had a smile and a reason to pretend But their world has flat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream The sidewinder sleeps on his back

Call me when you try to wake her up, call me when you try to wake her Call me when you try to wake her up, call me when you try to wake her I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her, oh

Call me when you try to wake her up, call me when you try to wake her I can always sleep standing up, call me when you try to wake her I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her, oh

We've got to moogie, moogie, move on this one

“Everybody Hurts”

When the day is long And the night, the night is yours alone When you're sure you've had enough Of this life, well hang on

Don't let yourself go 'Cause everybody cries And everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong Now it's time to sing along When your day is night alone (Hold on, hold on) If you feel like letting go (Hold on) If you think you've had too much Of this life, well hang on

'Cause everybody hurts Take comfort in your friends Everybody hurts Don't throw your hand, oh no

Don't throw your hand If you feel like you're alone No, no, no, you are not alone

If you're on your own in this life The days and nights are long When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes Everybody cries And everybody hurts sometimes And everybody hurts sometimes

So hold on, hold on Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on Everybody hurts

No, no, no, no you are not alone

“Sweetness Follows”

Readying to bury your father and your mother What did you think when you lost another? I used to wonder, why did you bother? Distanced from one, blind to the other

Listen here my sister and my brother What would you care if you lost the other? I always wonder, why did we bother? Distanced from one, blind to the other

Oh, but sweetness follows

It's these little things, they can pull you under Live your life filled with joy and wonder I always knew this altogether thunder Was lost in our little lives

Oh, but sweetness follows Oh, but sweetness follows

It's these little things, they can pull you under Live your life filled with joy and thunder Yeah, yeah we were altogether Lost in our little lives

Oh, but sweetness follows Oh, but sweetness follows

“Monty Got A Raw Deal”

Monty this seems strange to me. The movies had that movie thing, But nonsense has a welcome ring And heroes don't come easily. Now, nonsense isn't new to me. I know my head, I know my feet, But mischief knocked me in the knees. Said, Just let go. Just let go.

I saw the ocean meet the man. I saw you buried in the sand. A friend was there to hold your hand, Said, Walk on by. So, I went walking through the street. I saw you strung up in a tree. A woman knelt there said to me, Said, Hold your tongue, man. Hold your tongue.

You don't owe me anything. You don't want this sympathy. (waste your breath) Don't you waste your breath. (waste your breath) For the silver screen.

That nonsense doesn't mean a thing, They tried to bust you in a sting, But virtue isn't everything So, don't waste time. Now, here's a rhyme that you can steal. Put this on your reel to reel. Mischief threw a rotten deal. Monty's laying low. He is laying low. Just let go, just let go.

You don't owe me anything. You don't want this sympathy. (waste your breath) Don't you waste your breath. (waste your breath) Monty this seems strange to me.

“Ignoreland”

These bastards stole their power from The victims of the us v. them years Wrecking all things virtuous and true The undermining social democratic Downhill slide into abysmal Lost lamb off the precipice into The trickle down run-off pool

They hypnotized the summer 1979 Marched into the capital Brooding duplicitous, wicked and able, media-ready Heartless and labeled, super U.S. citizen, super achiever Mega ultra power dosing, relax defense, defense, defense, defense

(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

The information nation took Their clues from all the sound-bite gluttons 1980, '84, '88 '92 too, too How to be what you can be Jump jam junking your energies How to walk in dignity With throw-up on your shoes

They amplified the autumn 1979 Calculate the capital Up the republic my skinny ass, TV tells a million lies The paper's terrified to report, anything that isn't handed On a presidential spoon, I'm just profoundly frustrated By all this, so — you, man

(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland

If they weren't there we would have created them Maybe, it is true But I'm resentful all the same Someone's got to take the blame

I know that this is vitriol No solution, spleen-venting But I feel better having screamed Don't you?

They desecrate the winter 1979 Capital collateral Brooding duplicitous, wicked and able, media-ready Heartless and labeled, super U.S. citizen, super achiever Mega ultra power dosing, relax, defense, defense, defense, defense Yeah, yeah, yeah

(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ignoreland (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

“Star Me Kitten”

Keys cut, three for the price of one And nothing's free, but guaranteed for a lifetime's use I've changed the locks, and you can't have one You, you know the other two

The brakes have worn so thin that you could hear I hear them screeching through the door from our driveway Hey, love, look into your glovebox heart What is there for me inside, this love is tired I've changed the locks, have I misplaced you?

Have we lost our minds? Will this never end? It could depend on your take

You, me, we used to be on fire If keys are all that stand between Can I throw in the ring? No gasoline, just star me, kitten You are wild, and I'm in your possession Nothing's free, so star me, kitten

I'm in your possession So star me, kitten

“Man On The Moon”

Mott the Hoople and the game of Life yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Andy Kaufman in the wrestling match yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Monopoly, Twenty one, checkers, and chess yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Mister Fred Blassie in a breakfast mess yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Let's play Twister, let's play Risk yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I'll see you in heaven if you make the list yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Now, Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch? Andy are you goofing on Elvis? Hey, baby Are we losing touch?

If you believed they put a man on the moon Man on the moon If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve Then nothing is cool

Moses went walking with the staff of wood yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Newton got beaned by the apple good yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Mister Charles Darwin had the gall to ask yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Now, Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch? Andy are you goofing on Elvis? Hey, baby Are you having fun?

If you believed they put a man on the moon Man on the moon If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve Then nothing is cool

Here's a little agit for the never-believer yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Here's a little ghost for the offering yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Here's a truck stop instead of Saint Peter's yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Mister Andy Kaufman's gone wrestling yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Now, Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch? Andy are you goofing on Elvis? Hey, baby Are we losing touch?

If you believed they put a man on the moon Man on the moon If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve Then nothing is cool

“Nightswimming”

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night

The photograph on the dashboard taken years ago, turned around backwards so the windshield shows. Every street light reveals a picture in reverse Still it's so much clearer

I forgot my shirt at the water's edge The moon is low tonight

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night I'm not sure all these people understand It's not like years ago The fear of getting caught The recklessness in water They cannot see me naked These things they go away Replaced by every day

Nightswimming, remembering that night September's coming soon I'm pining for the moon And what if there were two Side by side in orbit around the fairest sun? The bright tide forever drawn Could not describe nightswimming

You, I thought I knew you You, I cannot judge You, I thought you knew me This one laughing quietly Underneath my breath Nightswimming

The photograph reflects Every street light a reminder Nightswimming Deserves a quiet night Deserves a quiet night

“Find The River”

Hey now, little speedyhead The read on the speed-meter says You have to go to task in the city Where people drown and people serve Don't be shy, your just deserts Is only just light years to go

Me, my thoughts are flower strewn Ocean storm, bayberry moon I have got to leave to find my way Watch the road and memorize This life that passed before my eyes And nothing is going my way

The ocean is the river's goal A need to leave the water knows We're closer now than light years to go

I have got to find the river Bergamot and vetiver Run through my head and fall away Leave the road and memorize This life that passed before my eyes And nothing is going my way

There's no one left to take the lead But I tell you and you can see We're closer now than light years to go Pick up here and chase the ride The river empties to the tide Fall into the ocean

The river to the ocean goes A fortune for the undertow None of this is going my way There is nothing left to throw Of ginger, lemon, indigo Coriander stem and rose of hay Strength and courage overrides The privileged and weary eyes Of river poet search naiveté Pick up here and chase the ride The river empties to the tide All of this is coming your way

Fish