Morrissey is the goose who lays the Golden Eggs

So long as he touches his own work, makes new work, tours, repackages, directs, organizes, whatever, he is molding great, golden work. He has the brawn for golden work, his cosmic cahooter, (ahem) has the brain to piece it together. He has the brains too, NORMAL people see that and know that he is intelligent, well spoken, insightful. But the thing that traps him, that voice that whispers "Don't follow a dream to be loved, don't touch or else the golden egg can't be hatched." is what I imagine ultimately frustrates the f*** out of him. So long as he listens to that voice, and it has proven to be a trusted one for long-term interesting knowledge that'll be interesting long after he;s dead, he will never be able to, in this life, know what it means to be held and touched and needed by a fellow human. Because that voice doesn;t know touch. It;s the voice of God who has no body, does not know the scale of time, has no thought in His head that it takes a year to plan a tour and re release an album and money to travel and fans to cajole and all that in order to lay one stinking basket of eggs. And in the meantime loneliness. Cold nights. Watching others love while he is denied it. ANd for what? A basket of golden eggs. I think Morrissey needs to listen to his own voice, what he needs and wants as a human. Because God will give him that too, he's not uncaring. He just loves greatness. But he understands goodness too and it takes the human side to make the goodness a priority. I don't know how else to describe it. Imprisoned by greatness which answers to an inhuman time scale and will go on for eternity so long as he lets it. These are ginormously difficult problems that seem unfair to impose on one man and expect him to recognize and see for himself. You have no idea how strong Morrissey is to battle this alone. I suspect anyway. Maybe he doesn;t see the same signs I do.