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July Sicksth Toady All, all The meaning and the fall Great white tumbling sky Yearning for nothing Having all You and i. T oady. today a funny misspelled day takes on frog-like qualities whence written. whence written, once written, who will pet my purring little kitten and keep her purring, always.. always like walmart always, always like untergleeben glaubengloben always.. always that never lasts.. always that has to ask questions like where is this relationship going? and when will i see you again?today a day to re-joooov-innate in the red, white and blue wake of my country tis of thee day.. yesta day. yesta. yesta the wicked step-sista of my wicked cool newd england upbrigin. which brings up da poppa. which begs the pita frampton hampton question: why don't it work? why can't i write like udder folks? why can't i keep it straight and stuff the postulate and pontificate and just write some nice little how-to book for the masses or some snappy cat and dog on the road together dialogue for the kiddies? why lord? why oh why can't i be normal? nor-mall? nor. mall. i f-ing hate malls, and no, nor, whatev-or, the NEG is not my favorite.. tense. i love radiohead. if you like my words and aren't familiar with their music, you really should be. i joked to laura the other day that i would regrettably be going to their concert without her (as she had to work), that i had backstage passes, etc... humor is not my strong point lately in the wake of years of depression, but this little joke seemed to work.
now this july night, one radiohead song resounds. i listen to it repeatedly. in the lonesome darkness of this saturday night, computer-screen-lit, fuck it, all room, the radiohead soothes. soothes and moves and smoothes and rules my sixty cent sentient mostly-spent for-rent dented and bent body, mind and spirit. i am. and on and on we go and often despite our best efforts, we still are. we are, you and me, dave kate scott stefan jodi justin mary harrod rebecca tommy tara we are. and thank fucking god for that. what else would joo be doing? joo. ima joo and proud of it. are joowa me?
-RSM the Duke of Irreparable Dents
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