April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead and, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with Spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
T.S. Eliot – The Wasteland
I bet T.S. didn’t get invited to a lot of parties when he was young. Sheesh, what a downer. Although, I do admit that he was right about the month of April. This weather is torturing us. Just when we think that Spring is here, we get another blast of winter. Now they are calling for snow again tomorrow night. The wind has been snapping at us for days now. Each time I step out into it I can feel my entire body clench up like a fist. I seriously think this is making my ribs sore.
How bad has it gotten? I put the Smiths into the CD player on the drive to work. You know whenever I have an urge to listen to Morrissey that I am in the mood for feeling sorry for myself.
So what do you write about when all you want to do is recount depressing stories of teenage breakups, and afternoons spent laying in a dark room listening to morose music? I’d feel guilty subjecting you to that interwebz.
So here’s a happy song. Come away with the Kinks on a Sunny Afternoon