I have to be careful about what I create or write, because often times, it materializes. As a writer, as an artist, I fall in love madly, easily. The flip side to this coin is an apocalyptic vengeance that has to be released through art. If it isn’t, it will cling to my body like clotted sweat, contaminating me, night and day. I never sent the following letter, and in all honesty, I don’t want it to materialize. So it won't. But sometimes you have to own your shadowy shit, or it will own you.
I hope the weight of your guilt hangs heavy, like a stone belly on a bird
That just when you have found sleep you are disrupted by the notion that you made a mistake.
I hope you jolt up in bed and replay memories in your head, memories that are sweeter and more passionate than anything in your present life.
I hope you can’t get it up, I hope your sex life becomes monotone and empty, that you are never satisfied and always hungry.
I hope the next girl has limp hair, an annoying laugh and no sense of humor. I hope she is stupid, that she doesn’t teach you things, and her opinions and thoughts are reflections of things she’s been conditioned to believe.
I hope her voice taunts you, I hope her body bores you and I hope she is the same as the girl after that and the girl after that and so on.
I hope you compare her to me and know that she will always, always, fall short.
I hope you realize, too late, the magnitude of my impact, that the emotions and the anger were a result of the passion. I hope you love me and watch me from afar, i hope you long for me and it pulls at your heartstrings with painful repetition. I hope it grows like a lump in your belly, cancerous, poisonous, deadly.
I hope you see me in street signs and songs on the radio and passing conversations and license plates and feelings that seem to come from nowhere and hit you hard in the dark. I hope your life follows a path of mundanity, that you never do anything extraordinary, anything as extraordinary as me.
I hope the memory of me follows you till your last breath, and that it sticks out like a brilliant knife.