somewhere_in_my_soul raze some years and a few hundred pounds of psychic weight ago, i was sitting in a bar on a friday or saturday night, back when i still did that sort of thing sometimes. i must have looked as depressed as i was, because a shaggy-haired stranger handed me a cigarette, clapped me on the shoulder, and said, "cheer up, man. everything's gonna be alright." it was a lie then, and it's a lie now. some things will be alright. others will be much more than that. others still will never be made alright, if they ever were. but the gesture came from somewhere genuine. and somewhere in my soul, if i have a soul, i think i'm still sucking on that cigarette, making like i know how to smoke it. 130830 what's it to you? who go blather from