I got spring fever. I always get it. It's an evil thing to feel this sickly, sullen and morose when spring's blush softens the rest of yall's pathetic days and nights. Me, I'm hot and cold at the same time. I got the blues. I've got itches I can't scratch and nothing seems to come out right.

See, I always get the feeling that I am left out of this cycle of renewal. I don't deserve spring. I didn't work hard enough all winter to experience fresh blossoming now. I feel the need for catastrophic change, but I know full well nothing will change; that we're all on a collision course with the brick wall of success or failure and neither is all its cracked up to be.

Don't talk to me, for I am melancholy
And I already know you have nothing to say
Yet you feel compelled to say it any way
To fill up time and space with your useless prattle
And we're required to listen
and our lives
compromised by your
miserable
small
talk
that is small
and miserable
and what do I want you to say?
I want you to be gay
a little lust for life goes a long long way
but all you got is centuries old chatter of who did wot todaye
and I care not!
I care not!
I saye...

Humans. I respect them little. I push them away. Unless it's for pay, then I let them stray close to my heart and then they start to cheer me and endear me and I feel well and love again.

So it's away for a few days. Or weeks.

I'll tell you about humans and hearts....most of us forget in the dreary day to day that we have them. Only through divine intervention are we forced to remember that they pump gallons of blue red purple brown blood through our squishy bodies that we drive harder than any automobile.... And it is the Stooges who remind me of my heart, and I doubt they knew what the fuck they were doing. DIVINE. Intervention! And when I see live Stoogey bands [witness Seattle's the Gimmicks] with boys bathed in red white and blue nicotine fog, the rhythm section's ponderousness pierces my thought-it- was-hollow chest and finds the heart working fine; heart communicates with my lower abdomen wherefrom life allegedly springs, it twitches, my mouth waters, the networks have been reestablished and suddenly I just wanna suck cock! It's amazing. Brilliant. What they're talking about when they the rock crit establISHment say primal. And it frightens me to think that they know anything at all about primal but I gotta give em more credit cuz maybe they do and maybe if I were paid to love them and they loved me back I really WOULD love them!!

And All We Need Is Love. RIGHT?!

Viva is on vacation for six weeks and is missing you all. [Which, as you can see, is a very, very good thing. WTF?!? --Web Ed]

More Viva!

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