11.26.02 melancholy

For the past year or so I've been listening to The Smiths while I write. I did not enjoy the band as a youngster because I was not attracted to industrial grade sadness as entertainment: I had enough melancholy in my actual life.

Byron always winces; he wonders why I am discovering things he liked as a teenager. He was a mopey boy, a Smiths fan, and his best friend Matt was an actual Morrisey cousin.

Recently we received word that Matt died in a car accident. Now the Smiths have a whole new tragic aspect, and listening to Steven Morrisey is more poignant than it ever would have been when I was just a mixed-up teenager.

In the midst of life, we are in debt, etcetera....

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