The good old days.
Not that these days are any gooder or badder.
It's just that there was something about the old days that, well, make these days seem mild and mundane.
I shake my head in disbelief at the memories of days past.
What memories remain that is.
Most of it remains in a foggy haze that only lingers on the edge of reality.
Lingers on the edge of reality.
Where the hell did that come from?
It's the old days I tell you.
In the old days, words would spew forth in gushes!
Now, they are but a mere trickle.
Only misguided letters drip one by one from the well that once refreshed and sustained life.
Yes, friends, those days I speak of with relish like Bruce Springsteen singing about the days of breaking into the top 10 are far in the past.
Way, way back. Yard even.
Where did the words come from, in those days of yore?
Where did they go?
Why did they cease to appear and force me into this hellish digital domain?
How my ears long for the clickity clack of typewriter keys and the infernal ribbon ink stains on my fingers.
We used to write on paper you know.
Paper? well son, it used to come from trees. But now all the trees are gone so we put words on magnetic chips and send them on to meander through cables and wires and fibre optics.
Just isn't the same don't you know.
Yep, back then the words came forth swollen with elegance and emotion. The words hurt and the words healed. The words incited and the words delighted. The words cheered and the words bereaved.
Now, all that is left are words, simple words.
Glory days for sure.