[ It serves Freud's ego well that Jung seems to be grasping at the remnants of their relationship. He knows that it is a manner of pride, nothing particularly neurotic about it, but he still cannot help but be pleased.
Is this what the Father feels, he wonders, when his Son looks at him with hatred and admiration both in his eyes? Freud is a father, but his sons are not close to him. He has wrapped Jung around his heartstrings far more than he has his own son, and he thinks now that this is a mistake.
He hands this man a legacy, and he shatters it at Freud's feet. ]
Perhaps we should. [ Freud rocks backwards and stands up, taking a long drag from his cigar before he removes it from his mouth, blowing out a long, slow breath. He half-turns, unwilling to take the first step. ]
WHY DID I NEVER GET THE NOTIF FOR THIS
Is this what the Father feels, he wonders, when his Son looks at him with hatred and admiration both in his eyes? Freud is a father, but his sons are not close to him. He has wrapped Jung around his heartstrings far more than he has his own son, and he thinks now that this is a mistake.
He hands this man a legacy, and he shatters it at Freud's feet. ]
Perhaps we should. [ Freud rocks backwards and stands up, taking a long drag from his cigar before he removes it from his mouth, blowing out a long, slow breath. He half-turns, unwilling to take the first step. ]
Shall we?