DRAFTS, NOT SENT.......

GOOD MORNING.....IT WAS WITH SUCH OVERWHELMING ANXIETY THAT I, RELUCTANTLY, ATTENDED NANCY'S PARTY......IT WAS THE PROPER THING, FOR SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN UPSET, HAD I NOT.......UNEXPECTEDLY, HOWEVER, I ENJOYED THE EVENING.......I WAS CONTINUALLY TRAPPED, AS WERE YOU, BY NANCY'S GIANT GAY FRIEND, FROM MERIDIAN, WHO WAS REALLY CHECKING YOU OUT.....I DELIBERATELY MADE NO GESTURE TO INTRODUCE YOU, AS I COULD NEITHER REMEMBER HIS NAME OR SAW ANY ADVANTAGE TO YOU IN DOING SO....FINALLY MADE IT PAST THE FOOD TROUGH, BEYOND WHICH I HAD MADE SEVERAL EFFORTS TO GO, WITHOUT SUCCESS.....I GAVE, BY MISTAKE, A GIFT THAT HAD BEEN ORIGINALLY DESIGNATED FOR YOU.....TO STEVE .......HE WILL ENJOY IT.....AND IT WAS HARDLY IMPORTANT......A PAIR OF ANTIQUE SOCK GARTERS...THAT EITHER OF YOU WOULD ENJOY, ACTUALLY.....HARDLY A NECESSITY, ANYWAY......YOUR NAME WAS WRITTEN ON THE PACKAGE....SO, WHO KNOWS WHERE IT WILL, INEVITABLY RESIDE....IN YOUR SMALL, GOLD-EMBOSSED MOROCCAN LEATHER GARTER BOX OR STEVE'S.......JOHNNY WAS EXCEPTIONALLY POLITE TO ME...WHICH WAS GOOD, AND STEVEN WAS AS GLAD TO SEE ME, AS I WAS GLAD TO SEE HIM.........DAMAGE ACCESSMENT AND EVALUATION ARE STILL BEING PROCESSED...........

I have reread your blog entry "escape from......." again. Are you stating that the desires of mortals (is there any other type--like "immortals") are at the "mercy" of some abstract entity? then you state that it does not matter to which one we subscribe, which seems to imply that we SHOULD subscribe to something or somenotthing entity as long as we maintain the altar we have chosen........see what I'm getting at? There's still this thick layer of DOGMA to deal with. "WE"? Who is your congregation? Is this an internal monologue? I had hoped that you would reply with some clarification of your Doctrine, which I see as the Commandments of the anthropomorphic GOD, carved in stone tablets, because I would very much like to understand how you think, and about what you think. The implication is that "WE" are accountable to GOD, perhaps. Anyway, I am confused by the imagery and the concepts, or rather the precepts, utilized here. Strike what? Is this a war? If so, with whom. Am I calling to the wind? This little paragraph is the only formal entry that I may respond to, so I am doing so, in an attempt to develop a meaningful relationship with you. It seems that I am continually offending you with my candor. Should we maintain a relationship at safe distance, filled with polite references, uncertainty and cloaked meaning? If so, tell me that you would be more comfortable with this and I will make an effort to oblige this request. Or perhaps I should not importune you, for the reponse is always a silence that does not bear well for my confidence in our friendship. Your mother admitted that she had suggested that you not respond to my "rudeness". I disagreed. You and I have not yet discussed this. Silent indignity is the curse of the emotionally restrained starving class, but this attitude does not honor a noble spirit, but is more emblematic of the inequitable nature of a self-assigned mortal and self-righteous spirit. Are you acting under orders? Confused, Confabulated and Contiguous. Lest the Dragons's teeth bring warriors, 'tis better to sow dandeleons than thistles.




I must assume that you are offended by my emails from the emotional high-risk zone, where the cards are on the table, face up. when the hands are concealed, I do not breast my cards as my partner or an opponent walks by. I feel slighted by your incommunicativeness. Formal pleasantries are for another type. good day, mr. Soanso, how are you? Fine, I hope. - unsolicitous of a genuine reply.- And your dog or cat or bird or offspring or dying relative or --we haven't spoken in so long--is the "S" key still stuck on your keyboard? ....Well, I've never fulfilled other's sense of MY obligation for proper social interaction--yeah, sure. if the words are neat as a perfect orb, look under the bed or in a closed drawer. is that less real than a folded kerchief placed in a seldom-worn tuxedo to have handy for the princess with a runny nose at the party one will be invited to if the cards are played right---just don't trump your partner's ace.
The price of catering to other's implied or implicite requirements is, for me, outside the parameters of a realistic world. Since we seldom see one another, telephone and e-mail or chat or whatever are the only accessible forms of communication. You have not attempted to communicate your feelings about anything whatsoever, so, aside from discussing movies that are out There or music, which is out There......get my gist? as the Cheshire Cat asked, "WHO, ARE, YOU?"
(The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her flamingo: she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it WOULD twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing: and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again, it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled itself, and was in the act of crawling away: besides all this, there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.

and the moral of that is--Be what you would seem to be--or if you'd like it put more simply--Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.)

Would you rather receive a jar of candied kumquats or a boxed set of Monteverdi cd's, or a Bible with some relative's name in gold leaf? Or a photo of my great, great uncle's beloved dog, Lucifer. Under the avodire veneer is the wood that built the first ancestor's cabins. If you prefer petits fours with crooked pinkies and tea so rare that the hoi polloi can't taste it, just place your order, and I'll try to find a waiter.