My Favorite Letter

Dear John,

Here I am at the SOU Library computer room and I am stoned. It's being a pretty good time except that typing is nothing like playing the piano. Oh, for a piano!

Here I am at the SOU Library and I have nothing whatsoever to say. Here I am at the SOU Library and it's one of those nights when the stars come out and they are playing musical instruments right through us. I am here at the SOU Library and I'm tired of being ignored!

Here I am at the SOU Library and I think that I'm going a little crazy because it's just one of those things that's got to happen once in a while. I am here at the SOU Library and I'm a little scared and shakey but somehow still typing. This type of writing is so private yet exposed at the same time, yet who can help but be in the silicon snake oil valley that is behind the beautiful creation known as the internet? Here I am at the SOU Library and i'm suddenly quite cold because this is the edge of the mountains. In fact it really is the foothills of this incredible place of ice and snow. I just want to write and I don't want to shiver so much and definitely think that there is nothing wrong with any of this stuff and I guess this is free associating and I don't really know where I am tonight and that's o.k. because it reminds me of what I descovered in Europe this summer, that I CAN go anywhere and be o.k. except into war torn everywhere.

I can't handle this level of violence on the planet. Where is the peace? Is it still out there? Come on guys I know you can hear me!!!! I laugh when I think of all that I've missed by being in this here and now. ...Where am I going with this? Suddenly I'm at the Oregon Country Fair and not only is it crazy because of the intensity of everything, in a crushing kind of way, but the man whom I really like is there with his beautiful girlfriend who I also really like, so that was hard but o.k. and nothing whatsoever like being in the middle of downtown San Francisco and walking around with a man who I really love but who is crazy messed up in a big way while eating mushrooms and trying not to absolutely fucking freak out!! And this is getting a little too off the track because believe it or not and at some point I HAD a point and it was to get back to you John with your information that you requested. Yes, our department store has everything you could possibly want to buy AND sell in it. And suddenly it's like I'm freaking in the middle of Johannesburg, and I have a hard time with even thinking of it as Africa because it's Africa in serious fucked up pain!! I think I went to SOuth Africa because I had to know some of the pain of this place that I helped create. Only body couldn't take the force of the blow which confronted my emotional wall of resistence against my emotions. It stopped me like a train about to wreck for good unless it could learn that it's a magic fluid train that doesn't need to break apart because it can become like water instead and flow. Here I am again and reading back through that I kind of enjoy smiling about some of the crazy things I said in it. Like the mountains of fair Scotland where rain falls in misty blankets of gray and everything is crying out in beauty that a certain kind of wonderful sadness has created. It must be the colors and it must be the kids that keep me alive on this January night. Sorry, suddenly I was in a CAt Power song and she is beautiful, and yes, I am listening to it as I write and it didn't suddenly just pop into the middle of my head randomly as I wrote you because I'm not quite that far advanced into my state of craziness amongst the sea weed and the wind blown wackiness of everything that is.

Well Johnny my dear Pilgrim of the seventh Order I couldn't agree more that this has been a splendid good time but it's getting ready on time for me to be out of here. (And meanwhile you are covering your mouth in the house and going "hee, hee,)" For not only am I crazy but I have the feeling that this is getting a bit on the long side and even you the reader get a little bit tired of silly things being written in the woods of the mind, with their every growing forest of neural pathways and dendrites as branches, axons as trunks and those other nobby things at the end of the neuron for roots. Only dendrites make more sense (for roots that is). Well gotta go. Love ya, boyfriend.
L