Monday, November 22, 2004
America Loves the Hives
With tickets awaiting me at the all powerfull will-call window, I wonder if I will be the same plaid-clad fella tomorrow. When I next wake, will I be able to sit in the hippest cube in America and move the same papers from one pile to the other only to move them back again next week?
Today I can say with certainty, "I have never seen the Hives live." Soon that will change. Soon, I fear, I will only be able to communicate through morse code blinks. A comatose foggy malaise will drift over me and overtake what is left of my life. I fear, dear readers, that the anticipation of the Hives has been so prevalent for so long that I will not be able to handle tomorrow. I'll have to substitute memory for anticipation, and I'm an anticipation junkie (my one vice).
I'll soon need a new fix, but for now, I'll just enjoy the blood-boiling, fiery-furnace I'm sitting on. Wish me luck.
Today I can say with certainty, "I have never seen the Hives live." Soon that will change. Soon, I fear, I will only be able to communicate through morse code blinks. A comatose foggy malaise will drift over me and overtake what is left of my life. I fear, dear readers, that the anticipation of the Hives has been so prevalent for so long that I will not be able to handle tomorrow. I'll have to substitute memory for anticipation, and I'm an anticipation junkie (my one vice).
I'll soon need a new fix, but for now, I'll just enjoy the blood-boiling, fiery-furnace I'm sitting on. Wish me luck.
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