white noize/extatic cling (hide the bunny, hunny!)

“

From: "xxxxxxxxxx@xxx.xxx"
Sent: Saturday, June 16, 2007 10:33 PM
To: "Xxxxx" xxxxxx@xxxxxxx.xxx


X

I’ve been meaning to respond to your last e-mail. Xxxx, xxxx xxx xxxxx xx x xxxxxxxx. Xxxx xxx xxxxx xx xxxxx xxxxx … Xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xx xxxxxxxxx x-xxxxxxx (xx x xxxx xxx xxxx xx xxx xxxxxxxx) xx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx. Xxxxxxxxxxxx (xx xxxx xxx 3 xxxxx xxxx xxx xxxxxxx xxxx), xxx xx xx xxxx xxxxxxx xxx xxxxx 6 xxxx. Xxx xxxx xxxxx xxx xxxxxxx, Xxx xxxxxx XXX xxx xxxxx xxxx (xxxx xxxx xx X xxxxx xxxx xxx xxxxx X xxx xx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx). Xxxxx xxxx xxxxx xxxx … Xxx xxxxx xx xxxxxx xxx xxxx xx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxx.

Xxxxxxxxx … xx’xx xxxx xxx xxxxxx. Xx…xxxx xx xxx xx xxx xxxx xxxxx “xxxxxx xxx xxxxx … I’xx xxxx xxxxxxxxxxx.

Anyway … getting back to the issue at hand … Okay. Wow. I just didn’t get — up until that e-mail — how pathetic you think I am. What strikes me as funny (more strange funny than ha-ha funny) is that I have been nothing but straightforward and honest with you. There have been no hidden agendas. I’ve told you what I feel and what I want — in my own words (however inadequate and rambling they may tend to be).

I spent such a long time afraid to honestly assess my feelings. Anytime they would surface, I would try to swallow them back down or run away as fast as my legs could carry me. I have tried (as an “adult — whatever that means) to acknowledge my feelings and state them as clearly as I could.

Anyway … that’s what I thought I was doing. I didn’t get what you were doing. I didn’t see it. Apparently, I am obtuse. I didn’t, also, feel that I had earned such a good shitting-on as you handed out. Were those your words? They were in quotes. Have you said anything to me in the last few e-mails that was actually you? You couldn’t tell me to fuck off in your own words? Just “Fuck off, eh? Simply… I do not feel the same way. I no longer feel any connection to you whatsoever. I asked you for that candor and you insist on vague brush-offs. Giving it to me straight just too much to ask? True, I suppose you owe me nothing. You haven’t cared even a little to find out who I am.

I think I was hoping for a genuine dialogue — you, me, sharing stuff. You think I’m deluded. (I assure you I’m not). You think I’m unhappy and looking for something outside myself. (Quite the contrary — if I were unhappy in my life, I would not be so comfortable opening myself up to vulnerability, old wounds, and potential disillusionment) (although — in retrospect — disillusionment is exactly what I should have hoped for.)

I didn’t want to take things out of my life to make room for you. I simply wanted to add you back into my life. But … you’re not the you I want back, I guess. That bastard Time. (If you want to hand out the “I-told-you-so-s now — feel free.) I asked for it, huh? I wanted so bad to know who you have become.

You’re right about one thing. I do not know you. You made sure of that. (The you I recall was never deliberately hurtful.) You are wrong, however, if you think that by insulting me you make me doubt my feelings. I believe, without question, that we are connected. Supposed to be in each others’ lives. Can’t explain it now any more than I could years ago. I’ve taken your pummeling, but…you are wrong. Believe what you want — your prerogative — but you are wrong.

Having said that, I forgot — connection can be one-way. I feel it. You do not. Message received. I think your communication sucks, but … okay. I surrender.

X xxx xx xxxxxxxxx xx Xxxxxx xxx x xxxxx xxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx xx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxxx. (Xx xxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx—xxxxxx xxx xxx xxx xxx.)

X xxxx xxx xxxxx xxxx xx xxxxx xxx Xxxx. Xxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxxx xx xx xxxxxx xxx xxx xx xxxx xx xxxxxxx xxxx. Xxx xx xx xxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx. Xxxxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxx. Xxxxx. Xxxxx. X xxxx xxx xx xxxx xx’x xxxxxx. X xxxx X xxxxx xxxx xxxxx xx xxx xxx’x xxxx xxx, xxx…X xxxxx xxx xxxx xx xxx xxx xx. Xxx xx xxxxxxx. X’x xxxx xx xxxx xxx.

Anyway … I don’t know how to close this. I really don’t. I suppose, as per your veiled request … I’ll fuck off. But this is no way closed for me. Regardless of the fact that it is for you.

Peace and love
Out
X
"



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references:

Don DeLillo, White Noise.

Robert Jensen, The Heart of Whiteness: Confronting Race, Racism, and White Privilege.

The Oxford English Dictionary: The Definitive Record of the English Language.

Simon Winchester, The Professor and The Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and The Making of the Oxford English Dictionary.

Wikipedia: Paramount's Great America (Santa Clara, CA) — Injuries & Accidents.