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A third way

Dear dear, I think of my life in two ways. On one side there is an immense tragedy of the unfulfilled, the deadening day where I watch myself sink into misery and depression, where I am cheated on, abused, and brutalized, where I am convinced I am nothing, and where there is mediocrity displaced greatly, … Continue reading

New York

Dear dear, I adore you. I have to start with that common, misused, adorned phrase for sometimes, the most obvious facts bear repeating. Against the falseness, they barrel through. Against the swell of disappointments, they ground. Against me, I hope there is you, adored and yourself. I mean all of it. All of you. You … Continue reading

Queen here

Dear dear, Kurt Vonnegut wrote that the best piece of all of literature was from King Lear. When the climax is winding down, and the characters have shown themselves to be vile, and there is nothing left to salvage, King Lear perishes. Among all the metaphors and metonyms and entire neologisms that Shakespeare could have … Continue reading

All cocktails look like arrows

Dear dear, I am drunk and I am happy and I am in love. Most of my writing should be this easy breathing. It should wet your lips as you say the words. It should remind you that I want to wet your lips. But I get undrunk much of the time. I am not … Continue reading

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