Thursday, January 12, 2012
I cannot recall if I ever mailed a copy of this letter.
There is no excuse for my not having written in so long. I wrote letter after letter and never mailed them,
disgusted with the fact that they were the same story over and over again.
My constantly predicted decline; each time I spiral down I find myself looking up.
Being the method of your own destruction is not only tiring but so very, very common.
I still work, I still hope. I miss you, and I find myself with a steady ---- (*letter torn) of ideas for which you would be the ideal model. The latest of which is --- (*) illustration of a common plea:
I do not want to die terrified,
I do not want to die weeping,
I do not want to die holding the heart of someone I love in my hands.
I see a woman prostrate before the opened pages of a newspaper upon which has been placed a cow heart.
I would use a human heart but aside from the legal ramifications they are just too small.
------- (*crossed out)