lesmels

This is an e-mail I wrote to a friend of mine, someone on this site actually. So he gets to read it twice. But it sums up a lot of what I've been doing lately and I will explain it all later, I promise....


Dear world,
This is the end. Someone tell my mother I love her.
There was just too much of living to deal with being
alive... If only you could've given me less to
handle...a pallid office, some 4 ft. square receptacle
in which to hold melancholic hopes and the miseries of
a honey bee drone, a wife that never sleeps around
(even with me), maybe just a hint of the 'otherworld'
that Jones and multifarious believers speak of, only
enough to know that I could never go that far in
achieving the mystical; But you just couldn't do it,
no... you had to give me strange boys on a train, faux
service-animals, fire-spinners, wooers of Molotov
cocktails, beautiful drunk girls that throw-up in the
backs of cars, dykes that dig fat chicks, and
Sparks...what the fuck is up with the Sparks? Who had
this stupid idea and why did I ever listen to them.
This is it, good bye cruel world.

<3 ~Mel


P.s. call me