dear Robdawg,
I write this drunk, very profoundly (probably), but not stoned
because I have quit that for fear that I would end up
doing anything else and not knowing where I am in life,
which is where I am, writing this now.
The letters I recieve inform me that it is Northland University,
in Ashland, Wisconsin, where is that?
dear Robdawg,
I love you as the best friend I've ever had in my
long, slow, agonizingly-sad life. I remember when you moved
four years ago, the last night, when your dad drove me home
and I cried all the way, and then I got home, and it was as though you were
gone forever, and I wept and listened to Stan Rogers, loud,
don't think that you or anyone but me and Dad and Wyatt ever liked him,
but he soothed me as a Grandad, so pure.
dear Robdawg,
I'm drunk as hell, and somehow believe deep inside
that that makes these emotions anything but more pure.
Tomorrow I ride to Duluth. I'm so sorry for the years
that have passed so long.
dear Robdawg. I remember the first time
I visited you in El Paso, and I had been to Hell Almighty, and you
hadn't, and then I knew
that we would never be as we were before. I write this w/ tears
streaming down my cheeks, very very hot tears, very salt.
dear Robdawg,
I remember when I discovered poetry, and you hadn't, and you looked at my words
and couldn't understand, and it was just
another brick in the wall, but that was OK for me,
hell-bent on insanities of glory.
dear Robdawg, I don't know where I'm going in life, I'm drunk and stoned and scared
as hell. Tomorrow, I'll go on a random trip to Duluth w/ some girls I kinda know. They seem
quite nice, don't like me @ all, only had one girl I ever went out with, have you had any? Well, I'm 20 now, it's sad. I love you as a brother.
dear Robdawg, I remember when you moved away, and I could never, ever understand. I never said anything, but I couldn't understand. How you could be my best friend and support my dreams and then be gone. So long ago, but my tears are so fresh. My roomate these days, he's gay and jewish, I don't care but he's annoying 2, just like I've been told a thousand times that I am, and I don't know where I am, think maybe I was insane for a couple months of my life,
help me God!
but I don't really know.
help me.
dear Robdawg, I was never as happy w/ a best friend as I was w/ you as one. Remember the last time
we met, it was in Minneapolis, of course, we watched Borat, and Robdawg, you
asked me why I was acting so dumb, it's because I am and don't
really know how to act and I'm alone and scared and miss you, dear Robdawg.
Robdawg, I don't have a best friend anymore. I don't feel anything deep or emotional. Kept on trying to feel thingz, w/ my friend Brian, but we always hurt each other so bad, you can't imagine, he can, maybe, but we were both on different trips always, and I don't know how to grow up and sometimes I fear that I'll shoot myself when school is over b/c I never found anything better than a story and now, they say that all my stories are contrite and I hate Brian for showing me how small my little world of my own dreams I love is, and
Robdawg, I love you and both of your parents. Mine have grown old, I told them of the misery I felt all of the year I was in tenth grade, and they could never believe, b/c it was after that, and
just another hole in the wall. All and all, it was just another hole in the wall.
Dear Robdawg, I don't know what Mike and Raven did to my mind w/ their knowledge, but for years, I believed myself to be going insane. I'm a sad person and i've written them insane scrawls and sent them online and people here thought I was crazy 2, don't know what to do, Dear Robawg, I never became popular, never could see any sense in it, but never could find anyone I wanted to read anything too, and for a while, I read my poetry to an audience unitl the last time I tried, I could barely pronounce any words and I wanted to die.
Dear Robdawg, I hate myself all the time. I miss STAD, you cannot believe. Dear Robdawg, I watched my, MY art form be destroyed by bitches like Sylvia Woolf (who Brian adores, I've never read anything of hers but hate her all the same) and
robdawg, i'm talking my problems out w/ a random german friend who i've spoken w/ for... since the days when I was in the god clan. i remember we were great friends when i was in 2nd grade, Robdawg, I thought, i believed, childhood could last forever, then u left and reality, it
struck me in the nuts and i'm so lost and alone. I don't think I could ever send this to you, because what could you do? I'll always think of you as my best friend ever, I love you. I'm so sorry that I feel so alone, and I feel alone from everyone, always. I don't know what to do. I couldn't tell Maddy, when she was my girlfriend, about the things I had seen or felt or died through. So I didn't, and that ended, w/out a word of pain.
why does time pass like this? Robdawg, why did you go away? Why didn't I email you or call you? Why couldn't you have helped if I had? Why has it been a few years for you and ten-thousand life-times for me, slow and weary? Or am I wrong? Is there something you're cleverly hiding? Surprise me, perhaps, and we'll be back.
i made the mistake in believing in the childhood "forever". People like me get splattered on Reality's wall every day. But there are so few. Barely a warning except life and the wonderful sound that is warning, but you feel so good while you stick your nose into the blades and believe nothing'll happen b/c now you're a God. You'll be bleeding bad soon.
