Monday, April 19, 2004

note written to Dissapearing Jake

I don't know why you "dissapeared," and for a time, it really ate at me. I suppose that was your intention. You seem to enjoy doing that. I really wondered for the week following. When you didn't answer your phone, I put it down it my books as one of those moments where you don't look back because anything more would not be enough. Of course, that may be crap, but the "poet's soul"* in me forces me to see the beauty in everything.

You did choose a horrible time, because I was just starting to get really down with my work. It was so stressful, frustrating and upsetting. And then my brother dissapeared and my dear friend Nathan told me that he will likely be shipping out to the war soon. I settled into a deep funk. I've been out of it for about two weeks, though. My dear brother reappeared. Nathan will be around for another few months yet. I am nearly out of the school (four days left, pour moi!) You probably never wanted to deal with that though. Who would? Certainly not I.

I really enjoyed the conversations. Even when you called at three am.

There is no need to reply to this, unless you sincerely wish to. This itself may be not enough. A reply may be not enough. That is, if that part made any sense to you.

Rock on with your bad self. You know you want to...

We are such stuff as dreams are made on... --The Tempest

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