dear brother,

I am so thankful for your reply. And that you are okay to the quality of a person. I think that you are right. About the unraveled part. I paid off my loan baby. Plastic Andalusian plastic houses. Laughing as you peed yourself on the broken fibers of the carpet attic. The couple was as sweet as the etiquette. I will encourage to donate those grace, rawboned fallen, bluen thinkings. Her chin skin peels along the edges of her cheek into purple curtains with diamond veined tracks. As easy as French horns wearing reddish pigtails listening to old school scratchy punk late in parking lots glowing with the wings of fresh termites. Like the long haired ghost that smells of organic. Eucalyptus mint shampoo soft knocks behind my bedroom walls. Her best friends melt into splintered LCD screen fumes of a high suspension bridge. The overdose is simple. Or was it the noose in the cupboard linked to my triangular key.  Musicians wind quality into a person. It’s great to hear personally from you, and I am happy, so thankful really, that I could help you lift those weights I imagined to be people fucking above me. The sociological question runs into accusations and the respective responsibility of flipping someone off adoringly, for their alarm.

the best to you,

jillian