dear Radiohead,my name is Mark. I hope this reaches you. i know that you must get flooded with all sorts of e-mail by countless fans. and i am sure they fill you with all sorts of accolades. i hope what i have to say does not get lost amongst the rest. although clichéd as i might end up i have not come here to throw accolades at you. you know what you are to people. at least, by now, I would hope you would know. I am not coming here to tell you that I think the music you make speaks to me. that it has all of these meanings to me and my life. while it might, i know these were not your intentions upon writing. or at least this is what you tell the press. regardless of what intention you have upon doing anything, the fact still remains that you give people something. whatever that something is, depends on that human being. i am a miserable person. In my short 21 years i've hit my lowest low. my rockiest bottom. all that I can conclude upon many restless nights of thinking, mulling it over, contemplating, agonizing... is that all i want to do is establish some sort of relation. with Radiohead that is. i don't know exactly how to explain it right now. at least with my train of thought in this current e-mail. all that I can say is that it's getting harder to put up with this anymore. I am begging, please, don't pass me by. if any of you have ever wondered if you make any sort of impact on anyone's life this is an example to go by. i am no one, and here i am now trying to reach out to someone. and all i ask is please don't pass me by.much regards to you for taking the time out to read this,Mark.
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flash. blast. bam.a winner this time.this time.this time.this vrsion becomesthat vrsionwhich vrsion is yoursand which is mine?one never knows.ndo (ad infinitum.)
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SM STUFF moves from 1 to 2 to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzero?seems likely, possible. unfortunate. sad. daff.but i'm jazzd. doors that open slight.doors that open wide.wide. wide.wide.
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The unassailable logic of our warped and twisted universe states that it will always piss down on a bank holiday. Fucking rain. The sky I am gazing absent-mindedly out at is indecently miserable. People could be out in the sun, the fresh air, maybe even enjoying themselves, but no... had to rain, didn't it. Instead, the populace will be reduced to traipsing glumly round shopping centres and supermarkets and garden centres, indulging in a spot of rainy-day commercialism, a retailer's wet-dream, while sincerely wishing with all their sweet little hearts that they were somewhere else. Bless 'em.The predictability of this scenario probably says something about the crushing mundanity of 21st century existence but, to be honest, the soul-sappingly depressing weather means I just can't be bothered. Ho hum. Tomorrow is fairly likely to be another day...
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5.After it was over I felt sort of sick. But not like I thought I would. I guess I felt, well, like I did everyday.It just wasn't anydifferent.And that made me throw up.
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at what point did 'not losing' become the third option joining your more standard 'winning' and 'losing?' and why do i categorize not losing as winning? is it? now it is.
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the floor in my home is collapsing. I can feel it when i walk. the floorboards have give they never had before. they also creak and speak much more than they used to. i think they are getting worn out. and think they are like me.one of these days they're going to give up, and down i'll go.
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Just a few hours ago, I ate lunch with people I work with. All nice and pleasant, we discussed a few topics, from that French radio animator who died to who might be next. Felt a bit uneasy, well I guess I just wasn't in the mood but betting on somebody's death over lunch is, to me, out of context.I have to admit that I go on http://www.ilsvontbientotmourir.com/ from time to time. And I laugh my ass off. So, yeah, wasn't in the mood.Then, we talked about how people were living longer. A workmate said then "You know, a girl who is born today has a ??% (don't remember, but was quite big) probability to live past 100". I bit my tongue before "How do you know humans will still have a place to live in next century ? And how do you know if life expectancy will not begin to drop ? I mean, floods, hurricanes, no food, no oil, no water..." could slip out.They're getting bored of my apocalyptic speeches.But, still.How will people react when statistics show that life expectancy goes down ?Read more…
vomit like coffee grounds?growths like grapes in the sinuses?personality changes?TWO coming true?blood moving faster, glands swelling, dancing figures in my periphery.Something's coming.
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interspersed with the daylight came moments of real darkness. day seemed to lose its meaning entirely as darkness at 1pm did not really signify 'night' nor did daylight at 2am signify 'day.' what made night? the hour? the conditions in the sky? what? and it was all random anyway. if it was by whim, whose whim or what whim? soon we would know. we would know two things:1. that the earth had stopped turning.2. and there really was a god.(though i can't say we really understand either of these concepts any better than we did before. but at least now we really comprehend how far off we are.)
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Woman who has bought one of every product she has seen a commercial for. Obscenely rich husband dies as impetus. Lists of products to be purchased distributed to her staff daily. Items placed in a warehouse on her estate for safekeeping. Products never used.
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man who names pharmaceutical drugs. freelance marketer hired to develop eye-catching product-relevant names. takes disease information, ingredient names, translates them to a 3-4 syllable word.
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