chipawah

As life once again returns to the hum drum rhythm of daily life. I re-embark upon this passing weekend memories. .. .. .. Ok, enough of that sounding like an intellectual. This weekend sucked ass. And, I do mean ass.. Oh, for those of you who don't understand what I mean.. The troublesome times of depressing people quarreling over life. I am not aware of how many meat puppets were lingering in the same vicinity as I. For they all had the drawn faces of Jews on their final walk into the ovens. An air of indifference and unknowning cast an aura from each and every person. Very few stood out as those who seemed to be trying to have a good time. Only to be swallowed by the monster that is conformity. How can so many people be so lame I ask. How can people pay the amount of money they did, to look so drab. I have never been to a manic-depressive convention. But, if there ever was one. The Cure concert would certainly have been one. From the bands to the crowd, the whole place stunk of placidity. Everywhere my eyes cast, I saw people in their small groups acting as if there wasn't even an event taking place. Are my memories of past concerts so vivid. I have yet to awaken and see this new congregation of concert go-ers? Is this the future I am to expect when entering the world of high priced drinks and tickets? Should I pretend I am watching a movie, rather then live acts? Has it become rude to have a good time? Maybe I am just upset, because not one bare breast was flashed.. A shame.. A true shame.