Letter to Laetitia:
What were we going to call this.


dear_laetitia_part_02

Our hero woke up three days later out of his comma in a pool of vomit and coughed up blood.

"Hey."

"Entropy?"

"No, it me, Blue Moon."

"Oh, and who am I?"

"You're my silly brother, don't you want to play. All you do is lay about."

"I'm not dead?"

"No, Silly, you just drank the poison stuff again. You know you shouldn't. Mom don't like it."

"I'm old enough."

"You're not old enough not to have a mom. Only when you are old like her do you have no mom."

"Not me."

"You too."

"Not me."

"Let's play smash the bottle."

"No more playing, I'm going."

"Oh, you always go."

"No, not like this, I have had a vision from the entrapie. He has told me to go."

"Don't go."

"I must go. We are like men living in a cave seeing reflected shadows of imitations of what is real."

"You should listen to Mom."

"I go."

Well to keep this from becoming a novel, we'll skip through his enormous adventure before he finally reached Stuttgart.

It's sort of like my first novel now that I think of it so just read that and take some acid not from a battery and think about it. Then you will believe me when I say he finally stepped off the ship, the one he was working on, in Stuttgart. A little geography lesson for non-Europeans.

"What a lovely land. Here will I raise my kingdoms. The stars in the sky are sand."

No one answered. Partly because of the language barrier, partly because they were on their way to the total eclipse of the sun 1999 open air concert party.

"You people are all mad!"

Our hero walked until he found a bench and laid down on it to sleep. It had been a long hard journey since he left his home. He had eaten very little for he found so few waist dumps on the ocean on the way over. When they passed floating fields of radioactive debris, the captain never stopped to let him search about in a little boat.

So not only was he not informed of the pending eclipse, he was hungry, tired, had jet lag and missed his little sister.

A bottle smashed.

He woke thinking he was home with his sister.

He wasn't. The sun was out but it was out. He had stared at the sun long enough to know the sun was bright yellow like the chicken on one of the soup cans he used to use with which to drink his anti-freeze.

"The sun is out!"

"Ya! Da sun is out!" a passer by screamed in drunken cheer.

"The sun is out and the coming of the Lord is at hand."

No one paid attention. They were used to drunken tourist from America and were expecting a few nutters to fly in to witness the natural party day, the turning off of the sun so let's get stoned or drunk and stare at the eclipse and have a really good time.

It was too much for our hero.

He flipped his lid, as they say, and rent his clothes from his body in disgust and cried, "Repent or burn in hell! Armageddon is upon us. The wrath of god..."

Okay, now we are straying from fiction too much and moving into beginners course on prophesy.

"Are you studying prophesy."

"Yes, I have a good prof. this year."

"Your final report?"

"Ya, I got a C+ on it."

"Wow, not bad."

"Thanks."

"What was your theme for your thesis."

"I kept it super to the point and completely specific, it was a little risky, rather than all this vague shit, or the self made prophesy that someone else executes. It goes right to the element of working in the chance element without getting someone to actually act it out."

"And you only got a C+"

"He said I could have developed it."

"Tell me your prophesy."

"Okay, a friend helped me."

"Just tell it."

"We worked it out like this: ‘If some whacked out imbecile from another continent steps off the boat in Stuttgart on the morning of the 1999 total eclipse of the sun, he might think it was the end of the world and the wrath of god was coming down."

"You are out of your tree."

"Yah, maybe a long shot, but I got a C+"

"You could have had a V8."


_bunnie stop_


Well, you vision of natural beauty, flowering all at once in the splendor of eternal loveliness, what did you think of that for a little ditty?

I mean, if I can work through that late at night after watching Robert program the alba36 data base, I can certainly know weather or not you'd be best off with my love rather than someone else that might only be able to think other less important things out, like taxes or something.

I might read it once again to see if we can use it just like that for our end of the world total eclipse of the sun Germany 1999 page.

If we can, I might be able to make you famous if you're looking for a job in modeling or something. I mean I'll just tell them who you are, you will be loved by all.

"It's a little late."

"I don't have to get up early."

"I mean for helping Laetitia get famous."

"No, she's young and beautiful."

"Ya, and you are old and wise."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."


_bunnie stop_


This thinking we are at times seems completely mad. (sorry, I don't know what this sentence means either) Other times it seems mad that anyone would be trained in life to think there are limits to give one's self. There are degrees of madness in everything. It is mad to stare at the sun but its just as bad to hide in a dark cave.

A dark care will eat up your hopes quicker than working at your goals with mad hopes and dreams. That's why we are humans instead of animals, we can have grand goals. If love with a woman is my grand goal, I have to be able to believe my dreams are realizable.

I mean, I don't know who I'm explaining it to, it can't be Laetitia, if she doesn't already know that, I'm not on the right track anyway. It's the world that watches and waits in their caves, hiding from the alter of life fearing they are not strong enough to offer themselves open on a spear, frying over hot coals, to grab a little more feeling form life.

The, what are we going on about? I really ran aside from the point since the point was going to be Gallum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I've never met anyone that read that when they were old enough to read it, that they didn't love it. As Fielding liked to say and I find quite useful on occasion when I can swing back to a point, is, in simple English:

Can't remember. It doesn't matter. The thing was about Gallum and we stick to him till we are finished. Like he did in the book. Someone, was it a wizard, told Bilbo not to kill him. This ain't so the point I want to make, but a little. Everyone has an art to living. Everyone has a character. It's the old story. But the question I have, is, do we know what characters we use for what. One can beg and it will work as well as demanding.

This may not be the point either, Laetitia. The point is, I can't watch it without feeling a little put off.

I shouldn't think about it really, its just ways of being and acting and some people can do better with someone with one act and others with another, and I hate all of it and may be the worst at it. I mean I may be playing myself as much as I think I'm not playing the others. This is dumb talk but just this other thought if I don't lose it. Oh, maybe this is a game I am playing, pretending I don't play games. I won't bother believing that for it does me no good. It makes more since to believe things that are somehow in the hope of some reality.

Which is a long and tedious way to come to the point. Honesty can be pretty hard. I wouldn't be completely honest to someone I didn't trust. The thing is, I don't want to hear a bunch of bullshit if one is to believe it is for real.

"Shut the fuck up."

"That's my point."

"No it wasn't."

"Now that I think of it, I had a point on the way in. I'm sure it could be summed into, I prefer to spend time with people who are at least honest with them selves. Then I can see through the bullshit if it has to be there. This, of course, may be a complete write off write off.

I think I'll make my solar sun worshiper glasses and if it is cold enough, I'll wear my Indian jacket. I can get away with it because I come from Canada and it was almost a present and it was made by Indians. And, perhaps I'm no better than the rest of those bits of other culture on your heels but who the fuck cares.

Sorry, Laetitia. If you didn't understand, it was my fault on this one.
Not every entry can be a winner. We'll get the eclipse report tomorrow.


_bunnie stop_


Let me just sum it up (can't read this word). Some of these games of manipulation that we play with each other piss me off. In fact, I hate them; I hate it if I see someone suffering from it and I'm as pissed off that they just play with it because it makes it look like every goddamn thing we do is a game. Sometimes the games have to be put aside. Everyone can just shut up and look at the goddamn sky.


_bunnie stop_


You can go out and buy an apple pie but no matter how good it is, it doesn't beat my mother's. I could have went out and spent 2 marks to get sun protection glasses. Didn't. I still wanna look if the clouds don't decide to protect us, so I built my own super way groovy cool sun eclipse shades. But I did it for the fun of it. Sometimes we call things work when we don't like to think about doing it. But almost anything can be done in a way that one enjoys it. I will cook for myself because I like it.

Most single people don't bother. Sometimes I don't and here we go again with no topic. I just actually wanted to tell you I made some excellent terminator like, well, I don't think it matters. I just wanted to say something. Which is often the point. Having said that.

"Right, then, pack it in. Take a go at the black sun with the toxic cult fellow in Stuttgart."

"Yes. Sleeping."

"Yes, go to sleep."


_bunnie stop_


Laetitia, this is really cheesy but I gotta say it. I've decided I want to be the happiest man in the world, that's why I need you to kiss me and tell me you love me. I mean and mean it. No charity kiss because I'm laying on my death bed and it has been my wish my whole life and I had achieved great things and made history but couldn't manage that kiss form Laetitia and news was out that I had only days to live and someone asked if you could do this old man a favor on his death bed and give the poor bastard a kiss. I mean, I'd smile and think you were sweet. But it would make me sad to think I could have loved you those last 86 years.

Maybe what I'm saying is I can wait and I wouldn't want you to do anything you don't really want to do, and perhaps that's why I need you as well, because I could almost be assured you would only do what you wanted to do because you can. You are lucky that you can, not everyone can, few can. I've tried to stick to that my whole life, I can hardly afford to but I definitely can't afford not to. And I am glad, even if I never become a world renown writer, that I stuck to it and didn't let anyone take it away form me with discouragement.

I suppose its almost a bit religious. Some people believe in God. I believe that I must write. It could be almost a tenth as mad as believing in God but fuck it.

Or don't.

As you wish.

Do you know the movie? It was sort of made to look like a love story for kids. "The Princess Bride", I think. It was way cool though. Impossible true love what no one could put asunder.

I'm not big on romance but one other I loved, now I forget. I must, oh. "True Romance." That was a little more hard core but somehow it was the same idea. Mad love.

Support my healthy madness by making your love my madness and your madness me love, your love my love, your socks my shoes, your lips my lips. Yes, that is it. Make my lips yours and use them to kiss yours so.

"Time out."

"Yes, okay, where were we?"

"Going to bed, the sun goes out tomorrow. You don't want to miss it."

"Yes, good point."

Good night, my love.


_bunnie stop_


Perhaps it’s just because of my need to survive but I just forgot what I wanted to say again, oh, I like being me and can't think of anyone else I'd want to be. I wouldn't even want to be you, especially if there is more than one of me looking to win your love. I would guess millions of men would like to. Few will try. Hopefully the best one finds you or you him. I'm almost at the point when I could have almost any woman I want, I mean, I have always been there, the thing is, I need a woman who can have any man she wants and I want her to want me. And I really do believe it is a need and not just a desire. So, if you at all understand where I'm coming from, you will understand that I am honest when I say I expect to with your love. I don't need it to show the world, I can't really even be a public figure because of some of what I say. I don't have any desire or lust for your fame. Fame does not impress me. You might already know my opinion of the media.

Everything I want is your love and there is nothing else I need other than the one thing I want. I wouldn't expect you to take me on if I was a rotten creature, I'm honest enough to know I could be seen as a bastard for steeling the heart of such an angel with the works of evil mind manipulation through mad logic. Those are just the buggers that want to own you.

Laetitia, listen up. I'm definitely going to sleep now. I am looking forward to your first kiss. On my lips.


_bunnie stop_


Oh shit, we're in the car and I want to mention the story we just worked out. Point: satellite directed advertising to all humans every minute. Reality Fighters have built a free zone in the Grand Canyon and are working on a plan to take over NASA, hijack a space shuttle and destroy all satellites used for advertising. But I won't tell it in the car.


_bunnie stop_



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. dear_laetitia_part_03



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