this is a pretty good day. why? i don't know why, there are good and bad days, and sometimes it's easy and sometimes you can't say why. when somebody asks me now how it goes or how am i try to say how it is really going and how i really feel though it's difficult after decades of fine platitudes because i think they want to know and finally life's too ephemeral for platitudes and fake cheer, or it could be worse, know what i'm saying. so today i went to the back of open produce to scope out the free bread and my friend asked how i'm doing and i said i'm kind of dazed you know, but good, and she said she too was dazed and it was a common thing today, i don't know, in general, but no, today, particular, and then up front when i bought my bargain apples and mushrooms she said virtually the same thing independently, and i told them both well i'm glad it's not just me, you know what i'm saying, like when people always said every day's a good day, hey we're alive, and it could be worse, you know, oh i'm great great, all proud and maybe lying or maybe believing their own automatic replies or protective lies and then leaving you wondering, why am i alone so disconsolate, why am i such a freak in this vast land of freedom and prosperity where everyone is damn well entitled to happiness.