(I keep finding these letters I wrote to you that I never sent when I was in Seattle still...thought I'd send them along, just for the hell of it.)

Dear J. Dove, 8:36

Back to the typewriter after many weeks away. Strange feeling today: A rollercoaster of emotional activity, if I do say so myself. Not going to go into details. It’s like getting up early for a trip, running out of gas, flat tire, speeding ticket, and a closed road that sends you back to work and you wonder what happened to the vacation.

And if God came to me tonight and asked "My child, you have been so thoughtful of others and kind, is there anything you want?" I’d tell him to give me a lost weekend with a happy-go-lucky stud type to fuck me silly and then I could sleep contented in his arms for a short eternity. But then WE know that life was never meant to be that perfect. AND life is but a seriously huge lawn forever to be edged, trimmed and mowed. Even when one is finished they know that by next week it will need to be cut again. Oh, hell, the mood isn’t getting to the page, I’m afraid. Perhaps a bit of bad poetry may help: Shall we freewrite and see what comes of it?

 

The nurses came

today

to check blood

pressure

and

cholesterol

levels

at the office

and schoolboys sang songs

from the seventies

redone in a Muzak style that

any mother could love

as the seamstress bends over

the stitches

to be

ripped out

and start again anew

 

The square of a number is that number divided by a number equal to the number. If Johnny has three apples in his lunch and Jenny takes two, then Johnny only has one apple left is he then a gentleman or a wimp? And if you cross a dog with a turtle do you get an end product that is as confusing as this letter? Most likely.

 

Yes, well, have I thanked you already for the letter and postcard? I’m feeling awfully guilty that I haven’t written to your new address yet - so I try to put together a bunch of thoughts on paper and send this off. I suppose my confusion slash irritation comes from the fact that the last few things I’ve written don’t feel complete. When I finish each entry - usually out of disgust + frustration I feel as if I have given you nothing of what I really feel, experience, be. So, instead I write little stories about everyday occurrences - usually somebody else’s with a line here or there that I think, if I do say so myself, are nauseatingly clever. I have many days ahead of me, God willing, to create something that will please humanity.

*****Went out with Roxy Friday night + Binky - we had a wonderful time, first the Frontier Room, the Dubliner. As the night progressed I found myself doing quite a bit of the talking. Remembering Roxy’s constant smile as she laughed either at my pieces of wisdom or at me. Someone once told me it wasn’t what I said so much as the way I said it + I’m not sure if that’s an insult to my intelligence or a compliment on my delivery.

My list of things I want to buy include a garter belt + sunglasses. Have always had an interest in getting a garter since I can’t stand full nylons on account they make one’s crotch sweat + a long evening of dancing + polyester underwear could leave one with not only a hangover but a chaffed ass; but it was your comment on silk stockings that allowed the interest to bloom into a full-blown obsession. Perhaps fishnets with seams? Who knows...

I sit here at the Sunlight Cafe amid the tie-dyed employees, think of Bellingham + wonder if I will go up north for Ski to Sea - really depends on how drunk I want to get.

 

Home again and waiting for Citizen Kane to come on the telly. To be able to get out of this town, that’s what I want, but where to go? There’s a whole world out there, a big world - about as big as the fear I have of seeing it alone. Soon... did I tell you I was sewing? I’m almost finished with my first dress - it’s oh, so exciting.

Well, J. Dove, this is the end of the letter. Enough is enough + I’m done for the time being. Lots more later.

Love Estrelica.