Dear Lesa

 

Dear Lesa,

 

Thank you for always saying the nicest things.

I’ve probably just turned into more of a grump in the past few weeks, with no social reins to keep me in check. I’ve abandoned all but the most basic self-care and am in, no doubt, less than prime-time, to say the least. After a 5 week long break from Facebook, I thought I’d go back on today and see how long I could go before I got triggered. I didn’t get too far, since Valentine’s Day was just last weekend and folks were still posting their happy-ass stuff. See what I mean about the grump? Anyway, I don’t want to begrudge anyone their happiness, or you specifically, since you were also there for me at a pivotal time.

I’m glad I could help you along, however I may have done so. Feeling a re-connection with one’s past is always great, but when someone else shares your same memories and feelings, that is special. I felt we had a moment, maybe two, when that re-connection was as alive and promising as spring. Unfortunately, our spring started late and the seeds never even had a chance to open before fall and winter came around, freezing them out. Simply a matter of timing, nature doing what nature does, not always with kindness. 2020 was like an exceedingly long winter, one from which I’ve never really awakened.

I guess to love you gotta risk heartbreak. No two ways about it. I’ve experienced enough heartbreak in the last decade or so to feel I’ve had enough. I have shut down the openings through which those kinds of feelings can get in, and I’ve closed the curtains. I’ll be taking a long nap. OK, that sounds dramatic and vaguely threatening of self-harm, so I’ll have to make the disclaimer that, no, I am not at this or any other time actively contemplating suicide. I may have thoughts about it from time to time, but hey, I’m sure it crosses everyone’s mind. My crossing needs its own sign, since it is heavily foot-trafficked by random negative thoughts of all sorts. A psychological parade of distortions and misperceptions about the world, myself, other people, etc. going across my field of view at any given time. When I get like this, I need a time out. I need to not infect others with the foulness that lurks in my “hole.” I’m laying down in my hole, but apparently refusing to die.

Not much else to report, really. I have a pretty active dream life, which makes sleeping my favorite (non-) activity right now. I keep a detailed journal of these nightly programs, which come on seemingly just for my entertainment, or for some sub-conscious psycho mumbo-jumbo reason, I dunno. I go for walks still. Still have my Saturday morning sessions on the guitar, yippie skippy.

I’m just kinda bored with my life right now. Bored is better than actively experiencing pain, though, so I guess I should feel that life is going easy on me, right? I’m not going to bust out that old “G-word,” you know what it is, but let’s call it “appreciation for the things that don’t suck” or “things that suck significantly less than other things.” Like the man with no feet thing, etc. Doesn’t make me feel any better, or the guy with no feet for that matter, to know that there is always some other poor schmuck a few rungs down from you on the ladder of suckiness. I hope I’ve not infected you with my stale grump-ism too much in this letter. I’m really not an active proponent of people relating to this kind of thing. I’d rather have people not being in my particular bucket, since it’s not the most pleasant of buckets to be in. Sometimes, not sharing is caring.

Anyway, you said lots of nice things in your letter, so I’m way off base being super-dark. I could at least go for partly cloudy, since there are a few bright spots here or there. The nice things you said in your message could be considered one of those bright spots, I suppose. So, thank you. I’ve gotta go thank Mark, too for saying that nice thing about me on Facebook when I was gone. Isn’t that what everyone wants, to have people talking nice shit about them behind their back?

I’m not sure I’ll be on Facebook much. I have my reasons, which go beyond just my little pouting phase. Nothing conspiratorial, just a wellness kind of thing with me. If something gives you more pain than joy (I seldom experience the latter ever, really) then why keep exposing yourself to it over and over, right? I still want to have friends, but I’m not able to be on stage at the moment. I’ll talk to the few friends that will talk to me still, backstage, in the little small room. Private chat or email, phone calls, that sort of thing. I hope I stay connected with you. I guess I don’t mind hearing nice things said to me, who doesn’t? I’ll try to return the favor, or leastways, to say the fewest un-nice things as possible. Better to just be a clam than to be a sea anemone that squirts out toxic stuff, or a sea cucumber, with prickly thorns that everyone can step on

 

Hang in there, sweetie. Keep in touch, my lovely friend. Love, A

 

 

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**It is currently Aug 6, 2021. This letter was inserted into my timeline after I recently came across it while browsing through the folders on my desktop.  Many things have changed since I wrote this, some have not. But it belongs to this date Sat, Feb 20, 2021, as it provides a snapshot of my state of mind and relationship with Lesa (and the world in general) at the time.