The Letters...

Dear Ms. Nixie, This may come as somewhat of a kick to the shock stick and I hope you don't mind a brief wrong thing at the right moment kind of interruption from a rather unlikely subject. In fact I do believe I hope you do mind. I hope you mind an awful lot. Although this is a ruthless world and one must, to some degree, be ruthless to cope with it where people as an individual can be genius but in the mass may form the headless monster, a great brutish idiot that goes where prodded, I have also said more importantly that only the unloved hate, only the unloved and the unnatural. I'm nothing of a saint at all. I have been troubled, clear as a bell, difficult, high as a kite or a firecracker going off, forever tortured and yet forever hopeful of more love nevertheless. I am for the people. I cannot help it even if I was never a perfect man. I want you to mind and to matter as ever after as that might be possible. I want that for many people. And that is what brings me to you

Dear Ms Nixie, I write to you in search of answers but as the wise have thought it, often answers come with only the right questions and so I come with questions. For isn't it so that all of us are truly a question of sorts in one way or another, remote - yet close together and shrouded in mystery? How do I turn one insignificant thread in an immense and miraculous pattern into something valued, something seen? Are we "Destiny itself like a wonderful wide tapestry in which every thread is guided by an unspeakable tender hand, placed beside another thread and carried by a hundred others.?" (Rainer Maria Rilke) Or if the tapestry or carpet "of history that seems so full of tragedy when viewed from the front has countless comic scenes woven into the reverse side"...is " truth,tragedy and comedy, the twin marks of history.." ??? (Jose Ortega Y Casset. And then again.. What is yellow, brown and hairy, besides cheese on toast dropped on the carpet? Sew