I would love to be here, but I love the world outside more. If you would like to contact me and receive letters two years late, e-mail me at akatchoom@yahoo.com. Thank you for your time.

For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.

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Dear Mr. D**** H*******.

Perhaps you have noticed that there was not a scrap turned into you on the twelfth of June by myself...perhaps you wondered if it did not lose itself in a box somewhere, or floated out of the drop box on your door to be picked up and discarded by a cantankerous janitor with a concern for his infected duodenum, maculated by asbestos, or perhaps it even assumed consciousness as a sentient life form, and rather than remain my own squalid assignment, it shattered itself on some shears and gave in to the maladroit disease of lycanthropy, a shift of bewildering action indeed.

But if you had worried on any of these possibilities whose ramifications would be irritating at best (though I do not suppose that you often conjecture on such impossible happenings as I often do), the viscid brevity of the story is that there was no earnest paper manufactured due to tribulation of my own physical woes.

I won't bother in recounting the insipid tale. It is too inoffensive and therefore a bubo of gross enneyeux. I just wanted to provide you with the correct newel for your sycophant mass, and say... "I didn't do it. Oh, well."

That circumambulated, I am enjoying "Moby-Dick" or, "The Whale" (having already enjoyed the now previous century's feminist perspective "Ahab's Wife" or, "The Stargazer"), and I think I will be placing Melville on my list of favorite authors that include Italo Calvino, Charles Bukowski, Sena Jeter Naslund, Pablo Neruda, Jostein Gaarder and Alexander Pushkin.

If you have any further recommendations so elect, indulge.

Have a great summer,
Arie* *****, hiccup at large

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icicle says: but do i need whiskey to get you into bed? also, did i just type that?

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Roninspoon says: I was pretty sure I sent you a reply filled with innuendo and permission for a bear suit escapade

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I am not the one who is dumb . I am silenced by your inability to hear .

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Yo amaso.

Tu estiendes

Tu entiendes

No estiendo

Tu amasas, yo estiendo.

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"Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of. But do it in private, and wash your hands afterward." - Woodrow W. Smith

The price of self destiny is never cheap, and in certain situations it is unthinkable. But to achieve the marvelous, it is precisely the unthinkable that must be thought.

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"If I die," she told me, "burn these notebooks. Douse them in kerosene and let them burn till ash, then bury them. I'd never forgive you if one word remained."

"But I'm the one who's been sleeping with you. I pretty much know every inch of your body. What's there to be ashamed of at this late date?"

"Body cells replace themselves every month. Even at this very moment," she said, thrusting a skinny back of her hand before my eyes. "Most everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories."

Haruki Murakami