I love Depeche Mode. In particular I love their sad songs, and for me there is none sadder than Blasphemous Rumours, from 1984.
I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God’s got a sick sense of humour
And when I die, I expect to find him laughing
If you listen to the whole song through, it’s a story of sadness, regret, irony and tragedy. A girl tries to girl herself, fails, and then finds redemption only to be hit by a car and killed.
Well, well, well. Here I am, having made it through another year, saying that I’m going to do this and that and all the other, just like I do every year. Every January, every new resolution, to this day, turned to dust. My resolution last year was to post more frequently (I managed a total of 47 posts in 2014). It was also to publish the second book of my fantasy series, The Redemption of Erâth. It was also to lose weight. It was also to get healthy, physically and mentally.
There’s something wrong with me, and not in the way I usually mean. I’m sitting at my computer, drinking tea (second cup this morning), writing this post. That in itself is unusual, considering my state of mind recently. I’m listening to Christmas music. Christmas music. That’s highly unusual, no matter what. Worse than any of that, though, is that I actually feel … well, reasonably well.
Satis Writes 