half_asleep_poem_seventy_eight raze ingmar bergman was a fable drawn to the flame of life. looking hard at him was like cutting your better nature in half. leaving the source of all that he was somehow became a way of letting_go. writers have all killed a main protagonist in the past, perhaps out of anger. if everything else is gone, something serious survives. 240907 what's it to you? who go blather from