# social indebtedness of politeness guilty by outside edge starts to play in the lab background when we see you in the local corner shop we beseech thee please do not say hello to us but just walk on by pretend you haven't seen us - or just stare awkwardly at the magazine rack of brain dead celebrity gossip till we leave if we bump elbows in a tight isle then sure you can half smile we'll lightly face-cringe in return but prey let us not drag each other into some crass public display of small idle village-idiot chitchat do not ask us what we're doing now where we're living or what you think about the weather yes you were once polite to us on several occasions now long past and dead but we do not feel as though we should be in debt to social niceties generally we're just mean and not at all a 'people person' well only on our strict often arbitrary terms by all means if you want to ask us out but not fall in love - then fine because i think you're perfectly ripe and ready to eat state your scientific needs in a clear firm manner and we shall respond in kind yet let us not both grind uselessly through the whole minor social-niceties thing it's just too painful and dreary even flatly unnecessary please understand the sight of you in that miserable corner store - your beauty and kindness - is quietly heartbreaking we're sharply reminded us of the fact neither of us are socially mobile how we're still doing nothing but idly shopping at this exact same lousy co-op its blue nfr 70's logo sun as bleached and faded as the weary smile on our face how nothing has changed and the factory clock has had an unacknowledged heart attack a billion dreary eons ago the sole exception being the often acutely painful existential depression and terminal boredom we feel each moment - having to eke out a meagre so-called life here in endland's tepid spectral grey dreaming not that this thoroughly depressing state of affairs of the state is remotely your fault - just that despite ongoing half-assed attempts we find it impossible to think about anything other that is than our own silent pathetic choked inner soul pseudo-suffering; our bs little artful schemes useless dreams rnd scenarios a faded image of your pretty sad face leaving the store without saying a word to any nobody especially me // republic of bob