__________
God knows how many letters I’m going to write before I send anything off. Unfortunately, god didn’t inform me on his/her decision and if he/she did, it must have been during a time when I was refusing to believe in him/her. Anyway, I hope things on the home front are looking up. Hopefully, you have found someone that has restored your faith in males, even though we all are childish and immature.
There really should be a class that tells you how to live. No, scratch that. There should be a class that tells you how not to live. Maybe run it on HBO and call it Life: It’s so Goddamn Fun. Wait, I think they already have a show like that.
If you are wondering why it’s only the third paragraph and I’m already disillusional it’s because I’ve been sick all day. My body temperature has been fluxuating from, I swear, 97-101� and my throat feels like I swallowed the neighbor’s cat. Except instead of getting it all the way down, it got lodged in my esophagus and is clawing me repeatedly. Needless to say, I feel horrible and I’m working.
Some things I have noticed while being ill are dreams become really strange. This usually happens, but what I’ve noticed is the stranger they become the more lifelike they are. Last night, I made up with my ex-girlfriend, had sex with a complete stranger, and was thrown in jail, all while sleeping peacefully. And I used to think dreams were abstract.
I’m freezing again. Thought I’d share.
I’m surprised I’m still functioning.
I feel like a reptile, my blood cooling,
my appendages becoming stiff. As
soon as I hit my bed though, I’ll be
sweating bullets. Stupid flu.
Ah ha, I knew in my repressed memory I had a question to ask you. Were you still interested in being part of the English Society I mentioned? If you are, do you know of others we can drag on board? I seem to be a dying breed amongst my peers, as everyone that used to write in my circle has given it up. Either way, it’s still over a month away and I’m not sure if I’m coming back to Emporia yet. Here is where I say Guten Nacht.
pat williams
spring 2001