dear princess philys:
perhaps i should restrain my sexual thoughts when thinking of you. but i am of no order that finds fault in such thought. unless detraction.
i don't think it matters what one decides to study. more important is the learning. and what one does. you are someone who can do whatever it is you decide on. you have seen me often enough to know i don't care much for that field. and i think your passion is too strong to stay in such an industry long. the road you decided not to take will return to take you. if saw you looking. it will.
whatever.
what matters.
i can see your eyes, like i've only seen them once that night you stopped in for two minutes. and i want your touch.
something is funny. so let's laugh. and if you want that what you said but didn't mean and i'm not dead yet. just do that thing you did once out of character.
i might better have not said that here. having said it, having purged my animal instinct. fuck. we can move right along to other topics. shit. it's not working. i'm a slave to my desires. if that makes sense. even if it doesn't.
okay, sex me down.
i can't hold it no more.
jump my bones.
throw me on the floor.
kiss me, show me love.
touch me with your skin.
though it hasn't been.
i could be once again.
country punk. the boy from the jungle who was left in the city, on the ocean. with parents. and the rest of it.
they or me are always doing this with me.
_bunny stop_
i'm not going to write now.
_duck stop_
let's be dramatic.
we. creatures roaming about on a wet, crusty ball of magma. the one that supports life. and we have been gathering evidence and cross referencing observations.
what is it good for. possibly nothing. maybe it's the opposite of nothing. a progression of matter through ages of survival. raging and fighting against nothing. a becoming of something beyond not.
this is no small matter. heaven ain't easy. it wouldn't be anything if if simply was.
letter 01.20.02
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