Saturday, September 11, 2010

Yeah, this is about right.



"there is a chance that I am wallowing. all that sounds appealing is sleeping today. from 9,10,11... all good for sleeping. I got out of bed knowing that when I got home, I could go back to sleep. it is a constant fight and I am not sure against what. but I know that I don't want to write an exeutive summary or any sort of business plan. I just want to write a letter.


You,


I hope this letter finds you well. I just wrote to say fuck you. I hope the sun is shining and the clouds are light and fluffy, and in reading this letter your day turns to shit. I hope that your eyes are soft as you follow the my sweet, sincere lines, suddenly breaking into little pieces that slide and slice down through your head, filling your ears and throat with stinging warm blood, thoroughly burning and trapping you in a moment that you already regret. You don't have a choice but to read what is written to you, right?


Fuck you. I hope you become so very familiar with the feelings that long for resolution just so the pain will stop and learn to feel all the numbing death that ensues when that which has words to heal refuses to speak."



(Letter by Lindsey Eggebrecht)



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