Sometimes I don't know why I bother. It might look fun to bash about and complain, but it really is a bit nerve-racking, and you never really know what people are going to do or how they'll react. Is it a mistaken sense of belief? The moment seems important enough, that something should be done, things should be mentioned, but when met with general indifference and the collective shoulder shrugging of the people you thought would care, it's always a bit sobering, and probably humbling in the best(?) way possible.
It's a very cheery way of singing about the wreck of the hesperus. I think I was having very trembly shaky dreams about Kelly Clarkson and a moment like this. Hi, I'm the frequent crackpot.
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