How are you? I hope this letter finds you well, because babe, you haven't been. While in retrospect, falling down and cracking your head on a dogcage is funny, its not one of those things you should be waking up in the middle of the night after a particularly intoxicating dream of uniforms and full relases and laughing about, then forgetting why you woke up.
Forgetting names for common things is also a bad sign.
Also, did you see how long that sentence went on? You can only be a great writer and do e.e. cummings shit once you have mastered the language.
You look like Meatloaf with the crack in the head in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Without all the bloating.
Remember the other day at the YMCA when you stood in the elevator for atleast a minute, thinking the elevator is moving, thinking you have pressed the down button (because the knee hates stairs) but in the realy real world, you have simply pressed the 'close door' button.
You should go see your doctor. It should only take 2 or so hours, bring a pillow. And to get weighed by the fully mustached nurse? What isn't to like.
Remember when doctors gave out suckers aka lollipops? Confusing signals indeed.
Two day old iced tea will perk you up, but will it ever make you happy? The same goes with food. Eat to live, not live to eat. Yes I saw the Taco Bell wrappers. Yes I know you have lost weight and inches.
Is any day a good day to get your new drivers license with hideous photo in the mail? It is not.
Cleaning the livingroom and breaking in the new MAC is not the way to fulfillment.
Remember how peaceful you feel when you just let go and let the pain and sadness fall down into the magma underneath the earths crust and let the dreams and intentions float up to the stars and whomever lives up there. Goddess, Jesus, Lakshmi?
You get to go to Los Angeles and Venice Beach and see the ocean and wear cool clothes and meet atleast one cool person, Francesca Lia Block. Maybe she can tell you something you haven't thought of.
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