I have returned to the living.
OK everyone, I am alive. I apologize for being away. I didn’t mean to hurt you, to leave you like that. I didn’t mean to make you feel so sad and empty and alone. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I definitely didn’t want you to write all that poetry. I really didn’t want you to do that. Listen, I was sick. I wanted to die. I was in Austin. My time there was ruined in many ways. I lost a lot of weight. Through my nose. My stomach is still debating with me. It says, you want cheese and crackers? You sure that is a good idea? Because I’m going to be honest with you, I do not like cheese and crackers. I will make it painfully obvious to you about ten to fifteen minutes after eating it, but hey, you eat what you want. I’m not the boss of you. So go ahead. I dare you. And then I say, no YOU’RE the dick, stomach, and then I eat my cheese and I eat my crackers and then feel sad for ever living.
So what is my current mood?
That is my current mood. I am very much into this Hercules and Love Affair business. I thank Erin for this. I thank Erin for many things, but above all, I thank her for disco. All the other shit she’s done for me? Like help me or whatever? All that is totally stupid compared to the power of disco. So what I’m saying here is that if it’s not disco, I am not interested. I am now downloading all kinds of disco. Oh yes. Disco. I am not ashamed. I also want to be in a disco band. It will be named “Poetry about Friendship.” We will wear shiny pants. It will just be me and Aidan. He plays everything and looks good in shiny pants. Or maybe we will call ti “Shiny Pants.” But that seems totally excessive and obvious.
typo
“call ti “Shiny”
It sounds like you’re doing everything right to deal with an indignant stomach. I’ve confidence in your fight, yet will wish you ‘demons away,’ just as a supplement to the soothing sounds of disco.
It’s like I’ve explained to sooooo many of my friends about Annie. Don’t feed her cheese, but if a really good DISCO MELT you’re after, she’s the best shiny panted lactose intolerant thrill in the world. Hugh?
sweet! Let me know if you need any production. I’ve got some sweet ass disco beats that will rock your shiny pants right off
Disco sucks.
No, it doesn’t really. I like it. I like it very much. But I remember my cousin Jimmy wearing a pin that said “Disco sucks” somewhere around…1981. I wondered if perhaps he was right, because he WAS older and he was awfully cute. He liked Blondie. I wasn’t allowed to listen to Blondie. I was only allowed to listen to classical and sleezy/easy listening.
Sigh.
Isn’t cheese your kryptonite? Kind of like what sesame seeds were to Ryan Phillipe’s character in Anti-Trust?
Fine. But what will I do with all this poetry?
If it isn’t Disco, it’s crap…
and
you’re welcome.