So there are only two more full days of being in Budapest until going back to a world which is but a faded memory in me now. And, somehow, I am fearful of what I will say to people and how I will interact with them. Mostly: I am fearful that I will say things about what I feel I've realized here and people will just stare blankly at me and say, "Yup, that's life." And give me no more attention than that, as if I had just learned that two plus two is four. But the things I realize are more significant than that because of all the pain that went into their realization. Indeed, this is a universal condition--everyone goes through such painful realizations--I am no special than any other human being but doesn't that make it all the more important that whenever we see this development that we treat it as something sacred? Isn't any sort of development sacred, no matter how seeminly small and insignificant? Why should we just say, yep that's life, as if "life" is something one studies in a book or takes a course on and everybody learns the same thing? This is another confusion of the general mass of people: that if you find life painful, you should just keep quiet about it because you're not the only one, or if you're going to say something, write a story, or be creative, but until then you must keep silent and earn your right to speak out abot the human condition. To be sure it's wrong to just cry and cry out ("Oh woe is me!") because it does nothing really good, and hence it seems that if you are going to say something then you should do something creative that turns the pain into something communicating the truth of this universal condition. But I don't know. But I do know this: the development happens incrementally and in the "trenches" of the existential battle, but the creative result (e.g. the work of art) is merely the result and comes far short of depicting the real struggle of the existential battle that occurs each day--and I mean each day! This is why it may be wrong to tell someone to keep quiet and don't complain, or else make something good out of it: because the creative act remains mute about the real truth about the existential condition of the human (this is not only a fight for survival, which is primitive and which modern society has rendered impotent, but the fight against an emptiness which puts the individual in grave danger of becoming meaningless, void, out of date). Indeed this may be what modernist art is attempting to overcome: to find the true expression of this latter day battle for existence, but somehow, I find that the real solution has remained from the grasp of modern or even contemporary art. Perhaps the true solution is the community.