2026-01-06T13:28:36+00:00

At The Hollywood Bowl

January 6, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

It is my practice to listen to music while I write. This morning, the music is an entire Morrissey concert from the Hollywood Bowl on YouTube. [The opener was “The Queen Is Dead,” and now, it’s “The Last of The Famous International Playboys.”] This was a very good decision.

You see, I woke up on the metaphorical wrong side of the bed. I just wrote an apology email to the Angel, for my attitude. Nothing happened, specifically, just an overall tone that didn’t feel…

[A quick note: he’s playing “Ganglord” now, which is a b-side and a very pleasantly surprising inclusion in a live show.]

…didn’t feel great. Do you know when you have a t-shirt on and throw a sweater over it, and the sleeves of the t-shirt get twisted and bunched? Like you still have a t-shirt and sweater, maybe nobody else knows what’s gong on underneath, but you’re constantly fidgeting because it’s just not quite right, a little off? That’s what it felt like, and I assume my unease was communicated to her. I am mostly incapable of hiding anything, every thought and emotion is worn on the outside, so that seems a fair assumption.

[“The National Front Disco.” I recognize that Morrissey can be somewhat problematic, but so is everybody, if you read certain perspectives. Admittedly based upon nothing but his lyrics and older interviews, I happen to not believe any of the racism allegations against him. He’s not problematic in the least to me.]

Last night, I told her that I am the most authentic person she knows (this was half-joking and with context, not just an odd random statement). This is probably true, and not always anyone’s favorite characteristic. I used to be sort of a human chameleon, trying to fit into whatever you wanted me to be/say/do/think.

[His shirt is off and an audience member has a souvenir.]

But the more time I spent in the Bible, the more I learned to value honesty. If God doesn’t want my pretending, faking the “right” answers, and if I was willing to expose my true heart to Him, then I could to everyone else, too. And so many relationships stall because of an unwillingness to relate in any real, transparent way, I decided not to be the unwilling obstacle anymore.

[He’s just given the microphone to a woman in the 1st row, who is thanking him. That’s interesting. Now, “The Boy With The Thorn In His Side.”]

Of course, it’s not always been easy or simple, and has caused it’s own fair share of relational strife. This kind feels much better, though. The way I figure it, if you’ll have a problem with me, it’ll be with me, not some silly construct or mask I’ve chosen to wear. It has led to many emails like the one I just wrote. She’s a very good woman, and forgives easily. Maybe that’s what marriage is all about, choosing to love each other enough to truly forgive, almost on a continual basis, to where it’s natural and instinctual. You are you and I am me, and we are here, together. Maybe forgiveness like this is the most obvious indicator of a healthy selflessness.

This has been a strange post, I don’t know what I’m trying to say, if I’m trying to say anything. This concert is so good, I’m still awfully tired, but my spirit is noticeably lifted. Beauty has a tendency to do that. Maybe if we all had more beauty in our lives, things would look much different than they do now. If world leaders would spend a moment reading books and listening to great albums, maybe we’d not be in such a constant, overwhelming mess. If we all listened to The World Won’t Listen before we left the house, I bet we’d start to find ourselves predisposed to kindness, that love would be our default setting.

[“Disappointed.” Nice. And “I’ve Changed My Plea To Guilty.” He sounds as good as I have ever heard him. The Smoking Popes have a song lyric, “I don’t know if you saved my life, but you changed it, that’s for sure.” That’s exactly how I feel about this person on my tv. I don’t know who I’d be today, if I’d be today, but I sure wouldn’t be who I am. I am grateful to be here. “Everyday Is Like Sunday.”]

I guess what I really think, in the deepest parts of me, is that this life doesn’t have to just be anything, that it can be what we make it. We get to choose what we see & hear (what we search and select on YouTube), and we get to choose our output just as easily as our input. And maybe we could be the ones creating the beauty that begins to unwind the chaos that currently defines, replacing the noise with the truly inspired chords and melody that we’d all love to hear.

Cause Or Effect?

November 10, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

A very particular kind of person loves Morrissey and his first band, the Smiths.

In the neighborhood of 35 years ago, I worked at a renaissance faire, selling baked goods like breads, cookies the size of your face, and broccoli & cheese pocket sandwiches. That was not my favorite job, but I did get to work with my sister, and we were next door to a Filipino stand run by the coolest family you’d meet. I suppose they noticed how beautiful my sister is (it’s sort of easy to notice), and began to ingratiate themselves to her and her little brother. Back then, one way to do that was to make and give mixtapes – a cassette tape created with a nice variety of intentionally sequenced songs, 2 of which were “Interesting Drug” and “Suedehead.” These were amazing, sounding, feeling, being completely different from top 40 radio. Then, I quickly moved into the entire Smiths collection. (They had already broken up, by then, so I had the totality of their existence at my fingertips immediately.)

I would say these songs saved my life. Well, the Smoking Popes have a line, “I don’t know if you actually saved my life. But you changed it, that’s for sure.” So, maybe they didn’t save the life of that sensitive, insecure, depressed 15 year old, but he was sure different, afterwards.

So as I was listening to The World Won’t Listen (a Smiths album that is a little more like a greatest hit collection than a standard release) as a 50 year-old who is less depressed, hardly insecure at all, and perhaps even more sensitive, I was wondering something I wonder about a lot (and have probably written about several times before). I wonder if those songs had a giant hand in forging the me that I have become, or was I already predisposed to be this person, so I found the songs & artists that a me like me would love.

Did Morrissey find me or did I find him? Why do we love the things we love? Are we paving the roads to get to them, or is it like a toy train,where the only track we can drive leads to only one direction? Could I have heard The Queen Is Dead and decided that I’d rather listen to Warrant or Whitesnake, and if I had, what kind of person would I be right now? “Cherry Pie” and “Girlfriend In A Coma” are different, the Venn diagram is just 2 circles standing on opposite sides of the room, curiously regarding each other.

I know that there isn’t an answer, there is no way to tell. And probably it’s a combination, where the sort of person I am heard “Interesting Drug” on a mixtape from a cool Filipino and recognized myself, then listening to it hundreds, thousands, of times just reinforced those characteristics that make me so awesome.

I think those people who pretend that they are not influenced by advertising or external stimulation are either lying or deluded. No one goes to McDonald’s because the food is delicious, commercials have convinced us that it’s a cultural mandate, that we have to eat that garbage (which they have convinced us isn’t garbage at all, no matter how sick we get) to become the type of person that the corporations decide we all really want to be. My questions about Morrissey ultimately aren’t meaningful, but asking them is very important. If we decide that we want to be affected by pop singers or fast food marketers, that’s one thing, but too often, that choice is made for us and we’re too busy or distracted to know.

This isn’t ok. What if you wake up one day and find that you’re painting your face while Gene Simmons siphons all of your savings, charging a ransom to be a member of some silly “army?” Then how would you feel? The line between intention and manipulation is thin and fuzzy, maybe we could take a look around and make sure we’re exactly where we want to be.

Morrissey in Atlantic City, 2024

November 21, 2024/The Bridge Faith Community/1 Comment

Last week, I saw Morrissey in Atlantic City. (If you don’t know who Morrissey is, I’m sorry… you should find out immediately.) He’s been my very favorite since I was 13ish, and he’s still my favorite artist by miles and miles. My favorite song is “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” and number 2 is “Half A Person.” When I make lists of My Top 10 (or 100 or 500) songs or albums, I don’t include him, because he’s all of the top spots and the list begins for others much later.

The question is if we are one sort of person and find the artists that mean the most or if they find us and we become those people? And like so many things, the answer is yes. We are predisposed to Smiths (the band Morrissey fronted) songs. We are emotional, sensitive, weird, and they massage those already screaming places and make them grow. Where we were a little outside of the norm, we became complete misfits and put that on like comfy sweaters. We are the kind of people looking for artists to “save our lives” and so we find them, then we become the people who were “saved” by an artist. It’s an odd circle, but it’s not very complicated. It’s nature AND nurture. I was born and was raised into a Morrissey person.

So, when he plays roughly 3 hours from my house, teenage me would have walked. Now me checks the calendar for days off and the kids schedule and bank account to see about a fancy hotel. When they line up, I am very, very excited to go.

There are few casual Morrissey fans. He is either your favorite, or you don’t really care for him at all (like my brother, who HATES him). Everyone there wore t-shirts and knew every word to 40 year old album tracks. He played new songs, not on a released album, and we even knew those lyrics. How? Because we’re Morrissey people. How would we not know “I Am Veronica?”

The setlist was not the one I would’ve compiled. If you listed the 20 biggest hits for your favorite band, this setlist would have included only 2 or 3. He omitted many of the songs that soundtracked our lives, seemingly choosing by random. Which is really cool, in most cases. In others, it’s still really cool.

It didn’t change my life. I spent the night in the hotel with the Angel, and the 2 of us had dinner with my sister and brother-in-law. My sister and I then went to the show together. Those last 2 sentences were more important to me than any of the songs or even (gasp!) Morrissey himself. I’m not who I used to be.

In the song “Ouija Board,” there are 2 lines that perfectly touched every last bit of me. “..and I still do feel so horribly lonely,” and “I just can’t find my place in the world.” Even the famous lyric from “How Soon Is Now?” – “ I am human and I need to be loved.”

I’m not very lonely too much at all, anymore. I think I finally have found my place in the world, as well as the story of my life. And the 2nd half of the “I am human and I need to be loved…just like everybody else does,” is now what I can focus on, which has changed my life in such beautifully meaningful ways.

There was a sharpie in my pocket for him to sign my t-shirt, just in case we ran into each other. We didn’t, but if we had, I would’ve thanked him, told him how grateful I am to have found him. That’s true. I am a Morrissey person, only now that is only a fairly small part of me…But that fairly small part still listens to Bona Drag on repeat and carries a sharpie and makes me hoarse singing along to pop songs in a concert hall in Atlantic City.

Morrissey

September 2, 2022/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Lately I’ve been listening to a steady stream of Morrissey/Smiths albums. He has been my favorite singer & songwriter since I was 13ish, and this sort of thing happens from time to time. I’ll think, you know, I’d like to hear Bigmouth Strikes Again (“Sweetness, I was only joking when I said I’d like to smash every teeth in your head” remains the 2nd greatest first line ever in a popular song. The greatest is, of course, from There Is A Light That Never Goes Out: “Take me out tonight,” and continues, “where there’s music and there’s people and they’re young and alive. Driving in your car I never, never want to go home, because I haven’t got one, anymore”) and then it’s several weeks later and I haven’t listened to anything else. I’m never sorry. It makes me feel like me, if you can understand what I mean.

Like so far today, I had a terrific workout, met with a friend for great conversation, played 2 board games with my son, read a little and wrote a lot. I’ll make dinner, eat with the other 3 in my house, and spend some quiet time connecting with the Angel later on. In every moment, this feels like the best version of me. If we had watched me from a distance together, I’d say what we saw is exactly who I am. I’d say the same thing about Morrissey’s voice. If you want a deep insight into who I am, you could do worse than to listen to tracks 10-13 (He Knows I’d Love To See Him, Yes I Am Blind, Lucky Lisp, and Suedehead) on the Bona Drag album. Incidentally, I actually don’t count it as an album, it’s more of a collection – if I did, it may unseat The Queen Is Dead as my very favorite album.

Maybe you care and maybe you don’t, but what I’m wondering is if we pick the things we like because we’re a certain way, OR if we’re a certain way because we pick the things we like.

I am hyper sensitive and given to depression. You could also say that about the entire Morrissey/Smiths catalog. Did I find it because I was predisposed, because I was looking for something that fit? Or did I find it purely by accident, and through its influence, I became someone it fit?

This goes for everything – movies, books, paintings, as well as college majors, interests, even people. Did I find the Angel because I was looking for someone just like her or did I find her and, because she’s so awesome, she became my type? Why did I fall in love so deeply with Jesus? Why do I like Catfish and documentaries on cults so much? Are they finding me, kicking down doors and rearranging the furniture in my mind, or am I looking for them, inviting them into the already existing decor?

I think probably the answer is different now than when I was 13, right?

We’re pretty well formed by now. Of course, we learn & grow & change our minds about things. I vote differently now than I did when I was 25, I value some things more than I used to, but you wouldn’t feel like I’m a totally different person. All the things that make me who I am feel like they are in place (I recognize these are scary words, as they usually lead to uncomfortable transformation), and I happen to like the man I am. I’ll just become more of him, more of who I’m created to be. I couldn’t always say I liked me that much, if at all, but I do now, and that is a cool thing to write.

Anyway, did I like Unloveable and Never Had No One Ever because I felt so alone, or…

You know, it really doesn’t matter at all. These things provide the texture of our lives, bestow such breathtaking beauty on our unpredictable, wildly dynamic lives as they mark the people, places, and events that matter. I don’t care why Morrissey became such a humongous part of my life, I’m just so thankful he did.

Rise of Skywalker

April 23, 2021April 23, 2021/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I wrote this last year, before the world stopped, and for some reason never posted it. It’s still true.

I saw Star Wars and I liked it. Of course I liked it. I am the target market. If a marketer’s intended demographic had a face, it would be my face.

From around 5 to 12 or 13, nothing mattered more than Luke Skywalker, Jedi knights, empires and rebellions. 24 year-old me cried at the opening crawl of episode 1…on a date. As I write this now, it’s less embarrassing than it was then – the happy ending is that the date was with the Angel, and she still married me.

The 2 externals in my life that mattered the most were Star Wars and, later, Morrissey.

In High Fidelity, the author Nick Hornby asks the question if we find the things we find because we are the way we are, or if the things we find mold us into the way we are. Which comes first?

Did I love Morrissey because I was super-sensitive and leaned towards loneliness and melancholy? Or did those songs push me in that direction?

I suppose it doesn’t matter now. No matter how I got there, I did and now I’m the sort that cries at movies and paintings and, well, everything. It’s probably a combination. If I was the captain of the football team, maybe Morrissey would’ve sounded sad and whiny and I would’ve tended more to Led Zeppelin IV or Nickelback. If I was a 5 year old girl, maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to fight and liberate the princess and the galaxy (in that order) with a laser sword and space ship so badly.

Sometimes it feels like the road has been mapped out perfectly all along, that we found the people and things that made sense and gave us some context for our lives at EXACTLY the right time. So perfectly, in fact, that it can make us question if we have any free will at all or if we’re just puppets in a theater having our strings pulled by giant fingers in the sky. Then other times, it all seems so random and confusing, with no narrative or plot, like we’re bumper cars driven by toddlers.

My favorite book of the Bible is Ecclesiastes (and this is likely no surprise, I imagine it leaks into everything I write and say.) It holds all of this confusion, the duality of an authentic life lived with eyes half closed (or half open;), with both hands. The Writer asks questions without expecting answers, is comfortable being lost without needing a detailed map home. A life that holds everything “temporary” (a better translation than “meaningless” – it’s not meaningless, not at all, only temporary) lightly, wanting to understand but willing to abide in the uncertainty, content to eat and drink with the people we love.

Star Wars wasn’t perfect, but in a world that has much much much more than enough pain and suffering to go around, it was beautiful. Morrissey is, too. I don’t care how they got to me, I’m just so thankful they did.

General Zod In Waco

July 30, 2020/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I told you last week that I was falling apart, right?

We’ll talk about that in a few paragraphs, but first I want to give you a quick recommendation/review. I followed up the Filthy Epstein documentary with the Waco series, also on Netflix. It’s a 6 part series based on books written by those closely involved, produced by and starring Taylor Kitsch and Michael Shannon. Taylor Kitsch hasn’t been in anything I’ve seen, but is outstanding as David Koresh. Michael Shannon has been in quite a few things I’ve seen (General Zod in the newest Superman movies, Walt Thrombey in the awesome Knives Out, etc) and is terrific in everything, including this, as the chief FBI negotiator.

It’s the feel-good hit chronicling how the FBI & ATF murdered 76 people. Maybe we can talk about the things the Branch Davidians (the group led by Koresh) did wrong or that we don’t like or understand. Surely, there are plenty of those to discuss. But I’m absolutely positive none of those things deserved the death penalty. It was disgusting and when the final credits rolled, I cried and cried. It’s beautifully written and acted, an excellent miniseries.

Now back to the beginning. Nothing is new about me falling apart from time to time. I have ups and downs, like everyone, but as I am told, not everyone feels them quite like I do. When I was much younger, the dark down parts felt like they’d never end and I’d often contemplate anything to end the darkness. Now, I don’t ever think about making today my last day, because I know the darkness isn’t forever. I know the darkness will pass and it will be light again, sometime. That’s as good of a definition of faith as I can find.

It’s been dark for me for some weeks now, and as my tears dried from the horrors of Waco, my heavy heart plodded to why? After breakups in college, I would listen exclusively to the Smiths, Morrissey and Depeche Mode and the other saddest songs I could find. I’d play “Unloveable” on repeat. Why purposefully walk deeper into that abyss? As I watch the pain of Federal Agents being sent into Seattle on the news, why am I choosing the story of Waco, TX? When I’m overwhelmed with sadness, maybe the murder of women and children isn’t the best option. Or is it?

Just like in the kitchen, it really matters a what we put in our bodies. But I’m not sure what that even means when it comes to this. I refuse to ignore or avoid the pain of real life…but maybe diving in so fully isn’t the healthiest, either. Maybe I need, say, 2 Morrissey albums and then a mindless electronic dj mix, like a cold glass of water tossed in my face to remind me that a full life contains joy as well as pain, mindless superficiality in addition to matters of weight. Depth includes laughter, too. Not just tears. Who knows?

But I can’t stand electronic dj mixes. (I call them mixes – maybe that’s what they call them, too – because they’re not songs or albums, they’re just beats and pulses. They’re not really anything, are they? Besides awful, I mean.)

So. I don’t have a nice tidy ending, here or in my broken heart. We’re just having these conversations.

Steven Patrick Morrissey

June 26, 2019/The Bridge Faith Community/1 Comment

Late last week, my sister tagged me in a Facebook post that advertised a Morrissey concert near Philadelphia, roughly an hour from my house.

She tagged me because her my brother-in-law would never go, he can’t stand Morrissey, hates his voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. He’s wrong, and it calls into question every other opinion he holds. She also tagged me because Morrissey has been my favorite singer since I was 13. You know how, when people are asked what they listen to, they usually think for a minute and say, “oh, well, everything really?” Or pause when they’re asked what they’re favorite song is? I never pause, because I don’t have to think. I say, “Morrissey/the Smiths” (the Smiths are the Very Important Band Morrissey fronted for a time in the ‘80’s) or “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” as if I’ve been waiting for someone to ask. Then they either nod, impressed, or confess that they have no idea who Morrissey is.

It is no exaggeration to say that he changed my life. I’ve had a 30 year relationship with him and the songs/albums that have provided the soundtrack for EVERY SINGLE significant moment of my life; celebrations, heartbreaks, joy, pain, times when I was broken and times when I was whole. I listened to Louder Than Bombs (‘Unloveable’ on repeat) on my way home from an ex-girlfriend’s apartment after we had separated. I listened to Bona Drag on my way to and from my high school graduation. I knocked off school every time a new album was released – in fact, when World Peace Is None Of Your Business was released in 2014, I woke up at 3am to download it so I could have it for the gym at 4 and work later that day. If CDs and New Release days were still a thing, I imagine I would’ve knocked off of work that day, too. “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” was my wedding song, played right in the middle of the ceremony, for all of us to hear about “double-decker bus” crashes and the pleasure and privilege of dying “by your side.”

In the book High Fidelity, Rob asks if we find the music or if the music finds us – if the songs change us or we are the kind of people who can be changed by the songs. It probably doesn’t matter if I was hypersensitive and dramatic and that’s why Morrissey appealed to me so deeply, or if his lyrics/voice led me to be hypersensitive and dramatic. I am hypersensitive and dramatic and I love him like he’s a member of my family, and if I were to ever meet him, I would thank him for being who he was to me.

I almost met him once. He was playing a show at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia and I got there at 8am to stand in line so I could press myself against the stage for the show. Around 5-ish, I think, there was rumor that he was there, but there had been many such rumors during that day, and the line was looong by then and I couldn’t trust its validity. Of course, he was there and signed everything as he spoke with the fans who found him…

I saw him twice in concert. The first was the Electric Factory show when I was 18 and the second was with my special lady (and first son, who was safely tucked inside her stomach, listening and I imagine thoroughly enjoying himself and judging us to be The Coolest Parents in America.)

We use the word love for everything. I love my car, these shorts, pizza, my sister, and my nephew Nathan who just graduated from high school (who incidentally, sadly agrees with his dad about Morrissey), but I don’t love them all the same. If I were to list the things I love, Morrissey would be above ALL things that aren’t people. I love him more than pizza and baseball (both in the top 10) combined, no matter how many regrettable things he says or how many shameless cash-grab greatest hit/b-side collections/deluxe editions he releases. I don’t like the new album, but at this point, it’s irrelevant. He’s family, and I don’t like or agree with everything every person I love does or says. That’s part of growing up. In college, too many relationships ended because they didn’t like Morrissey enough. I’m different now.

I don’t care anymore if you like ‘There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,’ though I suspect if you don’t understand why I do, you may not like me that much.

I’m not going to the Morrissey show with my sister, even if he was playing in the high school in my town, because I don’t go to shows anymore period. It is no longer my scene. (Well, maybe I would go if it was in the high school in my town…) And I’m not buying the new California Son album – bad covers albums aren’t my scene anymore, either.

The music found me when I was 13 through a family I worked with at the PA Renaissance Faire from the Philippines (one was named Mark, another named Jay and another was a gorgeous girl who had what looked like a stencil of a leaf on her tongue), and I’m a different person now. I’ve seen so many things come and go, graduated high school and college (twice), fell in love with Jesus, got married, buried my dad, had 2 children. So, so many changes, but one thing that never changes is Morrissey.

I have no idea why I wrote this. There’s really no point, but I guess love letters don’t really have to have a point. The love IS the point.

So Trish, thanks for asking, but I think I’ll pass.

California Son

April 25, 2019April 25, 2019/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’m not a child, I understand that writers don’t wait for inspiration. They write. However, in the last several weeks, I’ve been undisciplined and lazy, spending too much time watching tv and feeling like I must have some kind of disease or disorder. (I wonder if there is some kind of causality (or at the very least, a connection between the 2…))

So. Today I will write. And it feels very good, like an ice bath or batting practice.

I heard ‘Suedehead’ for the first time in my sister’s car when I was 14 years old, an insecure, depressed misfit without a clue, and when I did, a crack appeared in the darkness and a seismic heart-shift occurred. For the first time in a long time, something made sense. The space around me felt safe and warm, like I was home, that I belonged somewhere (even if it was imagined in a voice on a cassette tape.)

All of my spare time was focused on him, searching out old albums, books, interviews, bootlegs, b-sides, videos, live recordings, anything I could get my hands on. There was a week where I agonized over a decision to drop over $90 I didn’t really have on the cd single for ‘Suedehead’ because it had a track I hadn’t heard and couldn’t find elsewhere: ‘I Know Very Well How I Got My Name.’ I didn’t do it, but if I had, the song was absolutely worth it.

Anyway.

I’m now 43 years old and don’t feel quite the same way – is it even possible to feel as deeply about art as an adult as we did as teenagers? I still circle release dates on calendars, still love awesome things with an irrational love, still think Morrissey is THE GREATEST.

A new covers album called California Son comes out next month and I will not be buying it. Sure, there will be moments where I put it in a virtual shopping cart and listen to segments on iTunes and entire tracks on YouTube, but I will stand strong.

As you know, there is a disgusting practice in pop culture (following the slimy trail of technology companies) re-releasing “special editions” with “extra tracks” or “all new material.” Books are re-packaged, sometimes with new titles, always new covers, and a fresh chapter or 2. Albums are called “Deluxe” have live, acoustic and/or demo versions. Films have a “Director’s Cut” or “Bonus footage.” These things are all designed to fleece those suckers who have already bought inferior versions and have to upgrade. It is now high art, this method of separating us from our money.

Morrissey used to write songs of disdain about this very thing! (See Paint A Vulgar Picture, and Get Off The Stage) As he himself said, “Oh, the sickening greed.”

I have countless copies of the same album. I am the target market. It only recently stopped, with the Low In High School deluxe edition (a sub-par offering, as originally released, but I still would love to hear the tacked-on, what-I-would-assume-to-be filler…maybe someday…)

So. I suppose this is my small revolution, my insignificant rage against this sleazy machine. I want all Morrissey albums to sell a gazillion copies, all radio stations to play nothing but old Smiths records, but I can’t do it anymore. I am trying to, as the Bible says, no longer “conform to the pattern of the world,” especially when those patterns make me feel like an utter imbecile. This is a toxic relationship, I can see that now. So this is goodbye. It’s not you, it’s m… No, no, wait, it IS you. “But you could have said no, if you wanted to. You could have walked away, couldn’t you?”

Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world

Tag: Morrissey