keeping to my word, i sent a letter off today and have the next one ready! i think i'm writing you too many letters and may have to send more than one this week. i should be more careful.
i am yours. you are mine.
whenever people tell me i am of no consequence, i cannot do it, i will not make it, i am not smart, fast, pretty or popular enough i think of you. i have not always apprecaiated you and i am sorry about that, because you see me when i feel pretty darn inconspicuous.
anyway, the point is I can feel damn lousy at times when things don't go my way. they've been going in an alternative direction for a while, it seems.or perhaps i'm just ungrateful or something, as my parents always say. maybe it's the unattainable fame, the crazed desire, the vanity of people and paralleled lack of self-worth. could also be the nothingness, the terrible pleasures of an incredible heaven.
in the words of garbage, the world is not enough.