And Yet...

And yet once again we hide our bushels under a light of unreason.

And yet once again we wallow in the mistaken

self-pity of the illusion of necessity.

And yet... when we try to justify our ambitions,

we find that the stage manager has left to find a pastrami on

rye and left his drunken fool of a cousin in charge of the

cue changes so that we miss our entrance and

stumble on the risers before performing in front

of the laughing multitude.

And yet... the peanut butter sandwiches which

we packed in the mornings begin to take on

a hauntingly delicious flair when compared

to the dry semi-sandwiches jammed into

the whirl-around vending machines

we cowered before in the lobby just yesterday.

And yet... we still cannot get the beautiful

girl with the cute smile to look at us

when we wear our best outfit and do our hippest

impressions of Christopher Walken.

So Therefore...

We keep our fingers crossed when the

newsmen say that the world is going to end

and hope it will be soon so that we do not have to

endure the humiliation of trying to fit our square peg

selves into the round hole world we found ourselves in one more time.

Stuart Andrew Marshall Tanner

April '07