死の第一巻

Dear _________ ,

I am leaving in four days.  My mind is a stew of angst, mania, and everything.  I find it a privilege to have known you and to have come to know myself through you.  I am sorry for insisting on being such the romantic and spoiling tomorrow.  You played the role of the muse flawlessly and the role of a friend even more so.  I came to know you only due to our age of meta-modernism - and I still find that irregularly beautiful.  Perhaps souls aren’t meant to live vicariously.  

I feel so compassionate and ferocious towards you.  Not because I believe you to have been the cause of my woe, but because I believe you to be foolish sometimes.  Although, I guess that’s what I should expect of a cynic; I should love you for that.  Is it horrible for me to hate it so much?  I will confess I can sympathize with you in having wanted to invest yourself into a love that is impossible.  I must also confess I am personally overjoyed that he “broke-up” with you.  I often thought your excuses and routes of choice in the matter to be grossly immature (“I’m just a girl”).  It made me misogynistic for a while.  I’m over that.  

Notwithstanding any of this, like you, I only require your friendship - it seemed that you often thought otherwise.  I drove to visit you at Guilford with hopes I could be enough of a man to convince you of that.  I am certain I failed.  I suspect that you won’t read this and I will admit to failure again.  I should probably just blame that on my cowardice.  You might even find the means via which I expose this to be ostentatious, but I’ll claim it regardless.  I always dreamt of writing you while at the manor and I would still love to.  

I cherish you terribly. 

Tonight I saw the harvest moon,

Joshua

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

In a mere 39 days I will be departing for London.  “Sinking into every sidewalk-crack of this place until it’s time for me to go”.  Most of everyone will be leaving soon before me (& my birthday).  I have a million friends; I have one friend.  I’ll be part of a new family over there.  Although, when I return, both will have forgotten me.  This is not pessimistic - this is realistic.  I am praying for a terrible rain.  Someday I’ll be a different man.

I saw a movie about a million presidents having intercourse

I saw a nation bathing with nimrod in new petroleum