English translation for Morrissey artical.

Also, keep checking out Junkie. Keeping it old school is what it's all about.
                                  - - - - - - - -

Right now, I'm sat at my Computer. Trying to figure out why I am a Morrissey/Smiths fan.
I, like many others have often wondered why this is. On nights like this, where it's just me, Marlboro Lights, San Miguel and Morrissey. The answer is simple. It's a love affair. Daily, weekly, monthly and just in general a life support machine, he is essentially the most important man in my life. Prehaps the only one who's only really ever mattered. Some people might think this is pretenious of me, but when I being tortured at the dreaded High School he was the only person who protected me. Lyrically, ambiguously, he remained in my uncertain springing step. This is where I have to start; mainly because there is no other. Morrissey was a looming figure for many years, my Father knew of him, my Father's friends, my Mother, my Uncle, John Peel, Janice Long, Paul Morley. I had listened to his lyrics, I found them entertaining but nothing ever really clicked to the past or what was to lie ahead. I had albums by Morrissey and The Smiths - Hateful Of Hollow, Vauxhall and I. The lyrical content sometimes left me bewildered, a world where only words mattered. Maybe he's the reason why I write and have become all too critical of stupid things; i.e: sunsets, loss, desperation. So on and so forth.

But School?. It's a whole different love affair between myself and Morrissey. As my love spiralled, twisted I became all too defensive of him. I didn't realise. Like a sarcastic remark only made known twenty years later. Why did I do this? surely I didn't have to put up with this kind of bullshit, I was, afterall only just thirteen. I noticed there was a small Army against me, unhealthy remarks were a daily torture within my salad days. They were flown towards me from all different directions. Enter the Avril Lavigne fan- The Fucker knows perfectly well who she is.

But still I paraded my love for Morrissey. Prehaps in the strangest of ways, when there wasn't any song playing, there was a lyric stressing it's importance throughout the day. I supported a Quiff (held painfully in place with a hair-grip.) But I laid down a Law, the Law of me. Roxanne. It was significant for me to remark my unhappy days of Education in the 'End Of Year Leavers Book'. I quoted 'Half A Person' 'Sixteen, clumsy and shy/That's the story of my life'. By the time I left school, I had defeated all Morrissey haters and my Life had changed. I had become dependent on the most miniscule of things. Admittedly, nothing has changed. I still remain as defensive Morrissey. If anything, those Science classes' with Paul Thompson and Chris Greer toughened me up........

Six years on, I'm recuperating on my Bed. I'm thinking about people far away, there's a million other different sounds joining in with Morrissey. Afternoon showers besplatter amongst my window, I drift into a world of Morrissey, the same world I all too often shared with my Maths' lessons. Most probably he's off swanning the continent in style. But who says I'm looking for a realistic answer, I want what's rightfully mine at this moment in time and I'm all too close to being given it. 'I'm Not Sorry' from Stephen Patrick Morrissey's 2004 album bursts into life, taking my unknown content with it. A wailing combination of lost love and dungon-like colour. So, 'The Morrissey Love Affair' as my Mother likes to call it, I admit whole-heartedly I reply on Morrissey all too often. Don't get me wrong, I'm attempting to shoot the shit on ''Fuck me Man! Mozza' is the Dude!''. If you think this, you couldn't be further from the truth. No, he really was the Man to change me (Yes, I am a vegetarian) Whichever way you gaze at through the glass, though, I'm still preaching at Morrissey highway waiting to inject a lyrical lift. Let's be honest, money

P.S - Sorry if this translation is a little rough around the edges.