Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 393 & Part 394

 

Today is Monday, the 6th of October, 2025.

'He who has a why to live can bear almost any how,' said Friedrich Nietzsche.

How is the bear?, asked one of the see-no-evil-monkeys.

Master Twenty-Five said, the bear can almost any how, said one of the penguins.

But how is the bear?, the monkey insisted, Nobody ever asks how the bear is.

The two mosquitoes buzzed, The tawny owl wasn't speaking about a bear. His saying was about He who why any how.

Who is he?, asked one of the chicks.

The bear who has a why can live almost any how, answered the seven hacker cats.

The tawny owl Twenty-Five was hiding his head beneath his wings.

It's what Friedrich Nietzsche said, he said. It is not about bears. It is about bearing.

What about some berries, asked the little red birds. Some berries would be good.

Maybe some bare bears are bearing some berries barefoot, the bats suggested.

And all the cats repeated this conversation singing it as a loud and dissonant opera.

Meanwhile six hear-no-evil-monkeys joined the twenty-eight see-no-evil-monkeys, the twenty astro-cats, the twelve hipster-cats, the four dragon cats, the twenty-seven hacker cats, the nineteen stunt cats, the eleven ninja-cats, the three pouting cats, the twenty-six crying cats, the eighteen weary cats, the ten kissing cats, the two cats with wry smiles, the twenty-four smiling cats with heart-eyes, the sixteen cats with tears of joy, the eight grinning cats with smiling eyes, the thirty-one grinning cats, the twenty-three spiders, the fifteen scorpions, the seven ladybugs, the twenty-nine bees, the twenty-one ants, the thirty crickets, the twenty-two mosquitoes, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds, and the one little tawny owl…

🙉🙉🙉

🙉🙉🙉

"Bromford City"

I wanna go home, I wanna go home, oh how I wanna go home
Last night I went to sleep in Bromford City
And I dreamed about those cottonfields and home
I dreamed about my mother, dear old papa, sister and brother
I dreamed about that girl, who′s been waiting for so long
I wanna go home, I wanna go home, oh how I wanna go home


Homefolks think I'm big in Bromford City
From the letters that I write they think I′m fine
By day I make the cars, by night I make the bars
If only they could read between the lines

'Cause you know I rode the freight train north to Bromford City
And after all these years I find, I've just been wastin′ my time
So I just think I′ll take my foolish pride
Put it on a Southbound freight and ride
And go on back to the loved ones, the ones that I left waitin' so far behind
I wanna go home, I wanna go home, oh how I wanna go home

"Bromford Lake Monster"

As if you know the story of Bromford Lake:
Leviathan first hid in the deep where her children sleep
She kept them hidden from the plague

But have you heard the story of my mother’s fate?
She left us in Detroit in the rain with a pillowcase
Fortune for the paperweight

We followed her to Joseph, near the Indian raid
She wept among the weeds, hide and seek, for the fallen chief
Spathiphyllum on his grave

And like the cedar waxwing, she was drunk all day
We put her in the sheet, little wreath, candles on the crate
As the monster showed its face

As she waits for her children in the shade
Demogorgon or demigod the ghost parade
No oblation will bring her back to our place

She stayed within the deep end of Bromford Lake
The undertow refrained with the flame of a feathered snake
Charybdis in its shallow grave