Posts tagged letter

dear angera

EMAIL to my (vegan) [half-Japanese]  friend who got married in a fairy tale style wedding last weekend and is in hawaii this week. She ordered some Tupperware at the Waffle Party. This note just made me laugh, I hope it makes you laugh too. This is just how we talk to each other … lolz.

*****

Hey gangsta

Yer BANANA GUNS are here. Yeah, that’s right, those obnoxious yellow weird shaped pieces of crap you bought for some dumbass charity.

What d’ya want me to do with them??

Hope your honeymoon was scrumptious and that you are fat, happy and preggers by now.

Love,

ARISA

P.S. ANGERA – YOU were the most radiant bride I’ve ever seen!!  It made me puke with giddiness *xoxoxo*

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Love letter

It’s been a few weeks since the last letter/post here. I want people to know (in case they are worried) that things are fine – I’ve just been going in and out of a general disappointment with situations, people.  The other side of that is that thankfully the friends I have made here do shine through and remind me of all that is worthwhile in Utica.

Lately I have been reading this cheesy compilation of historical love letters. They are charming, and quite fascinating … I guess I am looking for some answers or questions to my own emotions.

In any case, I am posting a ‘love poem’ that I wrote a few months ago, really a found poem, composed from lines of imho one of the best lyrical albums ever – Vespertine, by Bjork.  * Disclaimer: One of the songs on the album in an e. e. cummings poem set to music, and of course I had to borrow some of those lines.*  The music on this album is very powerful, and this poem, for me, is erotic but sad and dark.

 

I have a recurrent dream

  pedaling through the dark currents

of the pleasure in me,

  looking hard for moments of shine.


Through the warmest cord of care

  your love was sent to me.

I’m not sure what to do with it.


Swirling black lillies totally  ripe …

Feel my breath on your neck

  and your heart will race

But careful, careful

  There lies my passion hidden,

there lies my love.

I will take the sun in my mouth.

Will I complete the mystery of my flesh?


I wake up

   and the day feels broken.

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Dear Utica

Dear Utica,

My heart is breaking.  Actually, I think it is over, broken, now. The honeymoon is over. I’ve discovered what you’ve been hiding, all while pretending that you were being open, nothing to hide.

How can I express the level of betrayal? I was so naive. My hopes and ambitions for your great potential began to wither and die like grass between concrete cracks in a dry spell … Now I just feel disgusted, alone, trying to find the gems of goodness. A flicker here or there, I go to see what it is, but it is just a fleck of micah in the sidewalk. Nothing to see once up close.

Now I know why people leave, why they run. I wonder if it really is better in other places, or if the ‘real world’ is full of sh*t like you are. 

But I am still here. Maybe I have a morbid need to see this place through to its tragicomic end. The comedy is running thin however. I guess the joke was on me.

When I see through the veneer of lies … I don’t want to look. I want to deny, but it’s compelling, and on some level it all begins to make sense.

The people and places I put my faith in … should I keep trying? Or just look away?

Utica, I’ve lost my sense of humor.

Utica, you broke my heart.

Utica, where everything just spins around, around, around in slow motion. A sad carnival ride … 

Utica, where the sun only shines 90 days a year. Where a hundred languages are spoken. Where the brewery keeps the AA meetings full every day. Where cops are killed and resurrected, over and over. Where fruit trees hide out in public parks. Where the youth stand around and wonder ‘where did the time go?’  Where everyone is an artist of something.

Utica, I love/hate you. 

-Aletha

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