itslastcall

Dear Blog,

I think of you most everyday. Usually they are pained thoughts. Oh, don't be offended. I do love you (most ardently). Yet the nagging at my heart to tend to you... well it gets in the way of other things. Like washing dishes. or walking to and fro. strumming my guitar. showering. studying. all very necessary things... and i feel guilty doing them. Its absurd! I know you want me to be productive, to bathe, to learn, and to generally enjoy my life. These feelings are pulling me apart. The need to write and the need to live a respectful life seem to be thrusting me in such opposing directions.

i'm often thinking of quirky little comments i can make to you; something to brighten your day and improve your opinion of me. The problem really escalates when, at the point of sharing these things with you, i simply forget the mounds of mental notes i've been making all day. how will you ever know how ingenious i really am? Its quite the dilemma. Most of my thoughts would take some working out, and since i haven't a notepad in front of me, often life-changing principles i have to share merely slip into the oblivion of my head, available in my dreams where they can only service me so much (as no real respectable person can take notice and assure me of my brilliance. only dream people. sad really.. i digress. i think.)

And so here i am again, seeking to entertain you with my thoughts. I'm afraid i've failed. Please trust i will try to do better next time. Perhaps i should start speaking into a recording device like in the movies. "Note to self, etc". It might seem odd, making my mental notes out loud at work. I'll have to find a better way. Until that time, adu. Rest assured, knowing my ardent love for you is still at work in my heart, causing much distress.

Faithfully Yours,
C