(~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~) (*) (*) * (*)~*~(*) HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #899 * 0 0 ~ 0 * ~ 0 0 ~* *~ 0 hOGS ~ "A Love Letter to AIDS" ( 0*~*~*0 ( ) 0*~*~ oF ) ~ 0 0 ~ ~ 0 eNTROPY ~ by Phairgirl * 0 0 * * 0 * 11-7-99 (*) (*) ~ (*)~*~(*) (~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~) Dearest Jarett: And so it begins, I suppose, the way all things begin. There's not much around me anymore, nothing more useful than some old nail polish remover and unused, much-needed sleeping pills. It's the little things that kill, wasn't that said by one of those great philosophers you spend your life striving to emulate? Or is it merely the passion that drives you like a force, unbeknownst to all, including yourself? I'm doing a lot of speculation here, Jarett, although it's fair to note you will never attempt to clear it up. There's not a lot of light here, and it's hard to see with these tinted lenses, but I'm seeing clearly enough to understand. And I understand more than you know. I can't fully recollect when I began to appreciate the swirling nonsense, the uncollected spewage that surrounded me. Perhaps it was the beauty of truly evaluating another's existence that drew me in further. The reasons could be endless at this point, but I'm not paying any attention. I know only one thing, and that is sleep, and my complete lack of it that forces me to look closer at so many things that I've never bothered with before. Perhaps I'm taking one too many lessons from those who understand this phenomenon much more deeply than I do. Ahhh, and that sleep I do recall so fondly, sleep from which I further disconnect and misunderstand. I choose this, I choose the insanity and the free-form frolic through nightmarish awake-states and serene sleep. I spend my days shoveling shit from one mouth to the next, peddling one life for another, only to keep Master Card and Lady Visa off my back for one more day. It all seems like such a waste, such a life in the void. Yet somehow, Jarett, I think you have worn these shoes, maybe not on the same plane, but somewhere. I don't even seem to care in my current state of mind about how you push me around, sneaking the jabs when I'm out of range, secretly vying for this life. Not the full life, of course, but only the easy life, the fun life, the envious life. Envy should not drive anyone, and certainly not you. You deserve more than simply wanting that which belongs to another. Your needs outweigh the desires of a few, and no one is to say you're not in the right. However, you're not the only one with those desires, and somehow you must accept that you cannot have all that you want in this world, not even you. And yet it all comes back to sleep again, since nothing else is closer to my mind at this moment than you, because my mind can handle little else at this hour. I hear the bells. They're chiming in my head, they start nowhere, they lead nowhere. They're only around to drive me crazy... but that's not the plan here. Instead I relax, unwind, close my eyes, deal with the here and now, ignore the cacophany filling my mind with excess garbage. I am refusing to dispose of it. I'm full of it. Sometimes, I think a little too much. But that's part of myself, I'm dealing with myself, I can't help myself. I get in the car and drive. I'm gone. I have escaped. I am nowhere. I am everywhere! Truth in the lies, a sight beyond eyes, a smile beyond reach, a subtle disguise... overused cliches and a bottle of pills, no money to spend on everything I buy. And that's why I look to you, my sweet Jarett, and everything means nothing, but you force it to anyway. I'm travelling to another home for you, and I know you will be there. I will wait. --Summer (~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~) ( *(c) hOGS oF eNTROPY pRESS* HOE #899 ~ WRITTEN BY: PHAIRGIRL ~ 11/7/99 )