Author Information
Letter to Stephen
How does being just one additional machine-type cog feel? To know that you can be out-written, out-read, out-discoursed, out-drugged, out-cooled, out-tragic'd, and even out-haired at any time by any of a vast pool of ones? Does it make you feel a little uneasy, and perhaps a little queasy down in the stomach where the bile winged butterflies dance their nauseating jive? To know that you can dress however you want, hanging rainbows and rips in a sundancing arty medley, and you're still just another slightly off-square block of mediocrity? Whatever you're listening to, it's been listened. Whatever you're smoking up with the fairies in the forest, they've smoked it before. Whatever these words that you're spinning and twisting and shade changing in an attempt to prove yourself oh-so-wrong, it's not working. You aren't fooling anyone. Your impersonation of Jack the Kerouac does not amuse the staff.
Ouch Ouch! No No NO! This can't be right. You know you've really got your own funked out jazz backbeat drumming on. Except you don't. You're still playing in 4/4 time with just enough ratatata in your brushes to brim you right up with smug self-assurance. Well wipe that smirk right off of your face. You're no one, and worse yet, you're everyone.
wow! surprise from the title. i'm glad i caught this one. i wrote one to myself one time and hated how true it was so i tossed it. but i give you tons of creedit for writting it anf keeping it and even more for posting it. awesome job. keep writing, and postin.