john rah letter to
jeff jones

dear jeff jones:

i feel out of character. and looked at myself. the sun broke through. i'm hoping it will fit.

i met someone over here who came from brazil. he reminded me of the big guy in our class. everyone tried to like him because he somehow demanded it. so i decided to be contradictory. not consciously. an automatic reaction. a few months later, after he'd actually publicly given me his mind on my smart ass comments, he made an effort to make an honest contact with me. the rest of the class had pulled out. and the funny thing was. i liked him straight away after that.

i can make people think of things and do things they normally wouldn't do. it's not a game. it's my character.

i often think of you when i don't cut my hair. i let it grow because i like it. i remember how you reacted at the end when it looked like i might be cleaning up my act to fit in. you liked seeing me not fit in. many people did. everywhere is in. my in is the part of society that doesn't fit in long. i've fit in for short spurts in many characters. research.

and i figured a few things. one being this writing. which had it's roots in our college english courses. college was an awakening. learning to read and write finally ahead of the rest instead of way behind.

i don't really wonder if i'm doing the right thing but when i contemplate wondering then i think. some people have somehow thanked me.

it's not easy to get how i see into words. it's a translation thing.

the nuts are falling from the tree and banging around. crows too. a woman was attacked a couple days ago.

crows are pretty smart birds. some humans too. smart enough to build bombs.

the world needs more peace hippies. not the same as back when we were kids. the world is different. being the same as something that fades away is silly.

being single is weird. not being single was weird too.

today there is nothing i want to do.

_peace duck stop_

i forgot to buy cocoa powder. so no brownies today. i don't wanna go to the store. to strange today. i just want to hide in my cave and tell a story. i learned to play guitar. i can make some sweet sounds. check out this one.

but i don't play much now that pain has taken over. i sing more. and strum along to it.

the pain will reseed. in something else.

maybe a pretty butterfly.

_peace duck stop_

i'm working for the nsa now. undercover of course. they don't even pay me. but it's nice being in the capital again.

you should see the shit they got on you man. masturbating and everything.

_peace duck stop_

letter 01.33.02