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  #31  
Old 03-27-2007, 04:03 AM
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Dear God,

Thank you for kind people like Kal and the others on Writer's Beat who are supporting me.

Piper

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  #32  
Old 03-27-2007, 04:46 AM
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We are fine, thanks. She was quite subdued, and I was very wound up. I think that writing the letter helped! He wasn't listening to what I said and just kept threatening me and swearing, so the only way I could get said what I wanted to say was to write this. It's one of the reasons I'm a writer!
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  #33  
Old 03-27-2007, 10:20 AM
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Some people are expletive expletive expletives!

How are we going to fix this world that encourages such out-of-control speech and actions? Who do we write to? (I know, we have to get Bush and his ilk out of global leadership roles but what else can we do?)
Kit
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  #34  
Old 03-28-2007, 04:31 PM
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I started off chapter fourteen with a letter from the General of the revolution to one of his subordinate commanders. It's written in a much more formal style than the dialogue. It describes the low point of the war for the good guys. Enjoy!
Sir Amon Kitimer, Cavalier
Brigadier General and Commander, Second New Phoenix Army Corps

Hello my good friend. It is my suspicion, and also my fervent hope, that this correspondence finds you healthy and well, marshaling forces to our noble cause. This is my fifth attempt at writing this letter. It seems that the more dire the circumstances we are facing, the less capable I am of describing them to you. Let me now just speak plainly to you what news I have from around the Phoenix Colonies.

Eivom is among several cities across the peninsula that is lost. A full division came through the Dakisdagin pass as we anticipated, and has left full Cohorts at every town along the way. I’ve heard reports that Brigadier General Nesac Booliu may have engaged them along the way, but I do not know his status or whereabouts. Of that division, two full Cohorts arrived in Eivom to engage Brigadier General Soni Lidomark and First Group. They were holding their ground until enemy reinforcements arrived.

The other Karakithaani Division did not land in Alfred as we originally guessed. They landed in Panacea, which fell quickly. All of Brigadier General Coul Quinn’s men were still in Meridian, which is where they were defeated.

The remaining Cohorts of that Division marched north to Jarenton, which brings me to the saddest news I have to report to you. Starkey Chon has betrayed us to the Karakithaanis, and I hear tell that he orchestrated such a massacre in Jarenton that the town is no more; its citizens all murdered, its buildings all razed, and I fear all of the volunteers I entrusted to him are passed on. His betrayal is unlike anything I have experienced since discovering the corruption sewn by Archduke Faubus in my former homeland. In retrospect, I think my gravest error was in not heeding the advice of Lieutenant General Spanner Tenganden, who recommended that we release Chon from our service early on. Yet the responsibility falls squarely on my shoulders, and I believe history will make me answer for it.

Brigadier General Lidomark was holding off her attackers in Eivom until the second wave of Cohorts arrived from the west. Her forces were overwhelmed, but the remnants of First Group are now scattered about the countryside fighting Veakhto.

Such is the status of our Army, good sir. We number approximately two platoons and will be marching north to rendezvous with the remnants of First Group to disrupt any attempts by General Grimalky to march south. I implore you to make best speed in preparing your volunteers to meet the threat that will surely try to meet you.

The one ray of light I can shed on my report is that we have managed to secure a wartime alliance with the several tribes of the Tibugaeden Elves. If you have any of their number among you, consider sending them to represent you to the tribes pledged to help us. It now falls upon you to coordinate the defense of the only part of the colonies not yet under Grimalky’s control. Do not consider a march north until the spring. Instead, marshal your defenses there. If anyone is to deploy across this wilderness in the winter, let it be the enemy. I will send correspondence again in the spring to let you know how we fare. Our circumstances may be dire, but our cause is just. Whatever tragedies or setbacks are presented to us, my belief remains firm that victory will ultimately be ours.

Mother speed you, my friend.
Mr. Anadon ElRayess, citizen
Commanding General, Army of New Phoenix
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Anadon contemplated that for a second, and then passed judgment on what Spanner was saying to him.
“You’re dumb.”
“Excuse me?”
“For someone who’s lived a gazillion years, you sure do have a lot to learn about romance.”
Spanner crossed his arms incredulously. “Do tell.”
“The way I see it, if I had to live forever, and I knew real happiness wouldn’t come around too often, I’d spend all of my time looking for it.”
“You’ve never mourned a wife.”
“Forever’s a long time to never let a woman tell you she loves you.”

New Elbestran: the First Tale of Spanner, 144,000+ words.
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  #35  
Old 03-29-2007, 05:58 PM
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Hello past,

I am here to right some wrongs, save some face, and bury some skeletons. Please don't hide as I have, because the truth is about to come out. I am sorry, but many that I care for will be hurt in the process, but it is what I must to do to correct the past. If you are receiving this letter, you will likely be one of the skeletons I will be burying.

Fanci

Last edited by riverstone; 03-29-2007 at 07:03 PM.. Reason: fixed typos
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  #36  
Old 03-29-2007, 07:03 PM
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Clever, fanci.
Kit
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  #37  
Old 03-30-2007, 03:45 AM
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Mr. B, when you write "the one ray of light" do you mean the one clarification, or do you mean "the one ray of hope"?

Great letter, I love the language in it.
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  #38  
Old 03-30-2007, 03:44 PM
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Originally Posted by riverstone View Post
Clever, fanci.
Kit
Why thank you. I enjoy mind games with my characters. This is from one of my novels. Maybe. I haven't decided to include it.
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  #39  
Old 04-21-2007, 07:00 PM
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Dear Simone,

How many letters have I written you but never sent? More than I can count.

Young love. That’s one of the many things that come to mind when I think of you.

I have many fond memories of you. Walking you to class in the rain, through the ever-present construction at the university. We sat on the floor outside the room, talking some, kissing some, until your class was over and everyone started to leave. I remember a day by the Coke machine. I bought you a Coke, and you said, “I love you.” Having only recently ended a relationship with a woman who was far too clingy, in far too much of a hurry to become emotionally intimate as well as physically intimate, I said, “I love you, too,” with little enthusiasm.

I wish now that I had taken you into my arms, or at least have had the courage and understanding to look into your eyes and reply with the intensity that I feel today.

Part of me wonders why I bother to write to you twenty years later. What right have I to interfere with the happiness that you have found? That’s why I never came to visit you after you left. What good would it have done? I couldn’t have stayed more than a week. We would have just enough time to renew our feelings for each other, only to re-experience the hell of parting once again. Inevitably, like the boarding call of the flight that took you out of my life, hard circumstances would have forced me to leave.

What can I possibly say now that will make any difference to either of us, our lives being what they are? Only in dreams can we go back to that time, and dreams of what could have been are not enough to satisfy the present. I can only tell you that these things that I have left unsaid I carry with me. They keep me tied to a time that has past, like the restless spirits of the dead continuing to hold on to life though the vessel that carried it is gone.

There is a woman who I used to date, a couple of years before I met you. She left me to marry some other guy but still, even now, sends me a Christmas card each year. I could never figure out why. Then I heard somebody say, “She’s the ghost in his heart,” and it made perfect sense. A person who used to be in your life but now haunts your heart like a restless spirit. I suppose she sends me Christmas cards for the same reason I'm writing to you now.

Maybe it sounds like a bad love song, but it's true. I love you, Simone, and always will because you are the ghost in my heart.

Evan
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  #40  
Old 04-22-2007, 07:40 PM
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That was beautiful, (Deadbox).
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  #41  
Old 12-06-2007, 09:54 PM
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Dear Uncle D.,

When I and my brother and sister were growing up, you would appear randomly in our lives like a rainbow, bright, lovely and so welcome. You must know that you were our favorite uncle. Your adventures, the places you visited, the people you saw, the things you did, you always had such wonderful stories.

I remember in the seventh grade, my dad was driving down the road in his pickup. He had the window rolled down to let the smoke from his cigar roll outside—the only place mother would let him smoke. I sat beside him in the passenger seat. And he casually explained that you were gay.

I'm unsure really if in the seventh grade, I thought of anyone as a sexual being. I was still plotting how to get my boyfriend to kiss me after a school dance (at least, the boy I was plotting to make my boyfriend at which point I would begin plotting to get him to invite me to a school dance). I had heard papa and kids at school make derogatory comments about people who were gay, but other than that, it really had no meaning to me.

So I felt this icy coldness go through me as I grappled with what dad had told me. I asked him again, "Did you say Uncle D. is gay?" And my dad told me, yeah. It was like a sudden shift in world view, if Uncle D. is gay, then gay is okay. I wish I could say I had some sort of politically correct, liberated view of people's right to make their own choices in life.

But I didn't. For me, at that time, it really came down to that fact that I loved you so much and I had such faith in your integrity and goodness, that I had to accept your lifestyle, whatever that might be.

You've always been there for me along with your partner J. When I had to leave school, you both took me into your home. And you made calls and you talked to people and you dealt with my craziness.

So I have no excuse for how I reacted when I found out about J.'s death. I knew how sick he was. The last time I saw him, he looked so pale, his hair looked like it was turning gray overnight. And I hugged him and we talked.

But I was married and living far away. And when mom called and told me that J. had died. I just couldn't deal with it. I wish I could say the pain was too great. But it was like this wall dropped and my emotions numbed. And I just didn't know what to say, what to tell you, or even how to accept that J. was gone.

So I said nothing. And I didn't call you. I wish I had some justification. But the sad, pathetic truth is that I've never learned to deal with the death of a loved one.

I know you've never questioned me or judged me. We've spent so much time together since J.'s death. And neither of us has ever spoken of my months of silence.

So now, I simply want to say how much I care and love you. And how much I regret my failure to be there for you then, when you needed me. Because, in my life, you've always been there for me even when my parents failed or when my first marriage broke up.

I wish I was a better niece for you. Because no one could have a more true uncle.

Lime & Tequila
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  #42  
Old 01-23-2008, 06:32 PM
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To the one I love,

It has been three days since I’ve seen your face. It will be twenty three before I see it again. I can’t put into words how much I miss you. I can’t explain how broken I feel when I’m not with you. My world shatters every time you drive away. I would give anything to never hear those words again. “We’ll see each other in a few weeks.” A few weeks or a few lifetimes. What’s the difference? It feels like a lifetime.
You say you want to give me the world, but more often than not you can’t even give me yourself. I want so desperately to tell you how I feel. How I hate this feeling. I want to lay my open heart before your feet. I want to give you the broken pieces because I know that you’re not the King’s horses and you’re not the King’s men. You’re the only one able to put it back together.
You own me in ways I never wanted to be owned. You own me in ways I could only have dreamed of being owned before. Your voice plays in my head like my favorite song. Your eyes cast a spell over me I think I’ll never be able to break. I can make it. It is worth the wait. You are worth the wait. It’s only twenty three days. After all…a few weeks or a few lifetimes....what’s the difference?

Miss Rebel
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  #43  
Old 08-19-2012, 05:53 AM
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Hi,
I'm sorry I don't write anymore, that is how its been here. But really, the reason I avoid you is because I think we don't have much in common; you speak of the coolest this and that and, about the things you did to who and how last night. I think you are a manwhore and that your jokes are nothing but a defence against the little insecure you within, and I know I shouldn't be thinking that of you. But don't get me wrong, you, will always be my friend, after all:
"You got my back" remember? when you said that and then forgot to ask me how I was for the next 4 months? Still, it was a good run, the gyms and the growing up: there were smiles, there were laughs, that was why we hung out, then- I guess- that is why we don't hang out- now: We're all grown up, see? We don't 'need' eachother anymore.. I would only 'cramp your style', and you would only make me look like one of your duff duffs: and I don't play. Thank you for your years, and helping me gain confidence at that time.Thank you for hanging out with me when I had nothing visibly to offer. Thank you for making me feel like friends existed. I know, you said I should get my license? Yeah, it would have been nice. But it is funny how you seem to only hang out with people with licenses or houses and, once again, I am not a duff duff and I will not become a statistic...So I will not be sending this, and I am not sorry about that.

Last edited by TinyDancer14; 08-19-2012 at 06:55 AM..
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  #44  
Old 09-24-2012, 08:35 PM
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A letter from a time traveler, caught in the distant past, addressed to his father.


Where do I start? Someone, Granda or maybe even Mum told me something once; the simplest way is usually the best way to do something. So…At risk of sounding simple, this is the easiest way for me to say what I need to say to you.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a monumental ass. I’m sorry I behaved so badly, in those last years I was with you. I’m sorry I threw everything I was given back in your face. I’m sorry for mocking you and your values and the life you gave me and for blaming you for my failings.
I may have some excuse in that I was not entirely sane at times but that doesn’t excuse my attempt to drink myself into oblivion and make it your fault. I know now—as I think I knew then—that I am an alcoholic. An addict. I cannot drink and stop before I’m sodden. I drink until I run out of something to drink or become so drunk I pass out. Quite possibly, if someone plies me with enough liquor, I will drink myself to death some night. The desire will always be there and I have to learn not to yield to it. I have to learn or I will die.
Simple, hey? Stop drinking or die. Get up each day, go about my life and...Simply. Not. Drink. Except there are times when I do exactly the opposite; pour that first drink, knowing I will not stop there. Knowing there will be no one to say me nay or prevent me from pouring another glass. No one to tell me I’m behaving badly or that I can do better; no one to tell me they love me no matter how big a fool I am.
I'll never see you again, save in my memory and my dreams but maybe someday you will read this and know that in spite of my failings, no matter how my life goes, for good or ill, I will always know you loved me.
I don’t know how I came to be here in this place and time but I wish I could see you again, to hear your voice and feel your arms about me. So I could say to you, mind to mind, with no lies and no fear, what I wanted to say so many times and never had the courage to say. I’m sorry. I miss you. I love you.
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  #45  
Old 10-01-2012, 09:42 PM
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In garbled HUD messages, on bandit's parchment with fingerprint smudges and ink trails, through surreal dreams, amongst the shaman's smoke, maybe on crumpled store receipts or that lucky dollar...

Dearest characters,
Thank you for acting out the madness in my head. Thank you for filling a thousand worlds with your antics, your heroism or your villainy, your emotions and thoughts and free will. Thank you for letting me write down almost everything that you do.
My mother's phrase of You can write and speak things so beautifully and my husband's final-say comment on Don't ever give up on your goddamned dreams because then I won't get to read them *frowny face* really helps when I stare at that blank, striped page or that flickering cursor.
My mind almost leaks out my ears, and my knuckle-bones get so stiff, thanks to you, girls. You all know that you will blossom upon a thousand pages, that's why you make me write so much. And one day I will get to share you will friends, family and a decent fanbase.

Most would shrug it off as coincidence, not even realizing that they are forming figments of a writer's imagination; others chuckle and and give advice, give thanks, bless their pantheons for another strange moment passing
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  #46  
Old 01-13-2013, 03:05 PM
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Dear me,

I'm writing to you as a reminder of the mind state you had before this all unfolded. Before the treatments before the hair loss before the vomiting before the talk of a faceless doctor became a reality for you, me, us.

I don't know what's in store for me, I imagine you laughing bitterly at my ignorance. Maybe writing this letter will turn out to be a mistake, I don't want to bring back memories of a time where it wasn't all pain.

But before the pain begins to poison our thoughts I thought I'd write this letter in the hope that when I read it it might bring a little clarity into the depths that we have descended. We've seen people we love die like we're going to, maybe not seen the scenes ourselves but we saw the look in the eyes of our mother when her mum died this way. We heard hushed whispers of the graphic truth, now you have to live it. I only fear it.

We always said that we wouldn't die curled up in a bed, you remember? So when the times right I want you to get the gun that we bought. Then I want you to walk to the meadows and find a spot, a familiar spot. Maybe at the top of the field, in the shade of that lonesome tree where we took some of our loves in a previous life. Then let a gentle breeze tell you when, put the gun to your head and pull the trigger.

Leave this letter, to anyone unfortunate enough to find us.

For that person I say this, I'm sorry.

And for those that I love, I love you.

Sincerely

Me.

__________________________________________________ ___


To clarify, this is entirely fictitious bar that my grandmother died from cancer.

They say write about what you know and it was my grandmothers birthday recently so it was on my mind. I was thinking that I wouldn't have the strength my grandmother did to keep fighting if I had cancer.

I'm aware this is quite a sensitive theme so I apologize if anyone found offence or assumption in it, my intent was purely creative.

Thanks.
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  #47  
Old 01-27-2013, 11:49 AM
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Dear First Love,

I know that the memories and feelings for a first love never truly fade, no matter the situation. This is why I'm glad that I was not your first love, as you were mine. You claim you are not over me, and that no matter how far away I live, or how many times my relationship status on facebook has changed, you will still love me. But feelings can fade, which is why I cannot be your friend any longer. All I am doing by being your friend is forcing you not to forget me.

I am sorry if my parting causes you any more pain, but I know that it won't last. I have been through the same, when I thought the feelings for you had passed after the time that you left me. Of course they hadnt, because you were my first love... but I am not yours.

I never really had any closure on the matter, but now that I know I have broken your heart, I feel the anger seeping away. I no longer have all of that anger keeping me away from you, and I'm afraid of lapsing back into the same old patterns. I'm also worried that I am hurting you more than helping you, by being a presence that is still in your life. When I said we should still be friends, I meant it. I love you. No matter whether I want to be your partner for life, I still want you to be happy, and find someone that makes you happy. But I'm afraid I'm making that harder by staying in touch with you. I'm sending this to you as a goodbye letter, so you can have the closure that you need. It's better this way... I dont want to be the person that f**ks up your life.

Love,

K
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Old 01-29-2013, 04:58 PM
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Dear My Sweetest,

I want you to know how much I care for you, and I speak from my heart, so listen to what I have to say.

" You are the wind in my hair, the ground for which is my foundation, without you my world would crumble and fall. The wind whispers your sweet name into my ears, your eyes sparkle like stars in my clear night sky, your voice makes my heart melt. I will be here for you, as a friend or a lover, no matter what. You have kept me sane, kept me alive, when I felt like falling. I love you, and you may or may not realize that, but I want you to KNOW that, from the bottom of my heart. Whenever you need me, just pick up the phone, and I will be there.
Your friend, Lee."
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This has actually been said to me by the sweetest guy and had tears in my eyes.
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  #49  
Old 04-29-2013, 11:42 PM
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Dear Other Guy,

I know it's been a while since my last correspondence but I thought that this might be a good time to, I don't know, reach out to you I guess. It seems that I've done a few things that could get us in a lot of trouble. I find myself longing for the old days when you would show up before things got out of hand and pull me back, bottle me up. I thought you were weak. That you let people get the better of us because of your insistence on being rational. But now I see how wrong I was. Clearly I need you around. Because I'm dangerous. I can't be trusted. I act impulsively, lash out without thinking. I'm unpredictable.
But, for all my faults, I can admit when I'm wrong. For even as I admit to myself how much I need you, I slowly start to realize that you no longer need me. Not like you did before. Back when they pushed you around and rejected you. When they insulted you and laughed in your face. When you needed me to stand up and fight against the people you were afraid of. People who victimized and tormented you. I made you feel safe. Gave you confidence.
Eventually the time came when you could stand on your own and it was time for me to step down. But I had been fighting for so long that I didn't know how to do anything else. At first I kept it under control, lied dormant. Things were good. You were happy and I wasn't needed.
But, over time, I grew restless. You felt me stirring. When that jerk flipped you off on the freeway, when that punk tried to look like a tough guy in front of his girlfriend at your expense, when that fucking cop cuffed you and taunted you, treated you like a criminal when all you were doing was walking to the mailbox. You felt me stirring. I could have ripped them apart with my bare hands, shut them up for good, made them sorry they ever messed with us. But you kept me inside.
Until, one day, somebody fucked up. They made us afraid again. And you finally let me out. There I was swinging, kicking, biting, cussing and maiming. I lashed out indiscriminately at every perceived slight or sign of disrespect. I scared and alienated people we cared about. I made us crazy. I caused problems. I even started to fight with you for total control. But you fought back. You were tougher than I thought. Now I'm only in control half the time. And what a fine mess I managed to make of things during that time.
What you saw when you woke up probably scared the shit out of you but don't panic. You need to stay strong, keep your head and stay alive until nightfall. Then I'll be back and I swear to you I will get us out of this.

Apologies,
The Other Guy
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Old 08-26-2013, 06:43 AM
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HOME SWEET Home...and mother will be mom....

Ketherine....so sweet.. touchy...and nimble writing...I truly like it..amazing dear...you make my eyes wet..

Last edited by Devon; 08-26-2013 at 08:01 AM..
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Old 08-26-2013, 05:21 PM
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brilliant, fast paced and i must say great use of the F word.
You truly have some talent thier mate keep at it

it sorta reminds me of me n my mate a bit which i enjoyed it so much

butters23

Last edited by butters23; 08-26-2013 at 07:28 PM..
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  #52  
Old 08-31-2013, 11:03 PM
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Dear Kalibantre,

It is nights like these, when the neighborhood is quiet and my mind is loud, that I find myself yearning for the days when my creative muse was at my beck and call. It is also nights like these that I remember the frustration of being stiffed by my own inability to create prose as adeptly as I once did. There is one thing I have learned and it is that the muse is a muscle, a vindictive muscle, that when it isn't used shrivels up and spits in your face. Well, as per your request, and as per my own desires, I hope I may begin to flex that spiteful bitch of a muscle once more. Even a simple letter is a good place to start. At least it is forcing me to put a string of words into a cohesive semblance of meaning.

Or not...

All that matters is that I am taking the first step. Hi, my name is Andrew, and I am a hopeless write-a-holic, I simply have been sober for the last year or two - here's to falling off the wagon.

Cheers.

Your Dephy.
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  #53  
Old 09-25-2013, 12:39 AM
LauraPalmer (Offline)
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Dear ex-convenience store guy,

Hey! It's been a while. I'd say you probably don't remember me, but we saw each other at least three times a week for around two years. Being my convenience store guy during that time, you saw me in a wide variety of mental and physical states, and I think you only ever judged me a little. Thanks for that, man. Even though we were never on a first name basis, I always enjoyed our small talk and the casual familiarity between customer and cashier.

However, that's not the reason I'm writing you. Look, I'm not saying we were best friends or anything, but at the very least you recognized me and knew who I was, which brings me to my concern: How is it that after, I repeat, two years of my patronage, you could never remember my brand of cigarettes? You even had it easy for at least a year of it - When you buy cigarettes regularily, you start to automatically recite your brand, colour, size of package, size of cigarette. For example, X Brand, red, small regular. So I recited my line for a year, and one day I changed it up. I brought purchases to the counter, said my hellos, and then said, "Oh, and smokes as well."

As you may remember, you went through the motions as you tried to remember which one it was, but I saw your relief when I reminded you. I realize you probably have a decent amount of regulars that buy cigarettes, but if I can remember a handful of regular's ice cream orders, I would think you could remember my-- You know what, never mind. this wasn't really to gripe at you. My feelings were just a little hurt, that's all.

Anyway, I miss my little store at the end of the street and our little conversations. Hope you are doing well, say hello to your dad for me. I won't ask how he is, because I already know he will answer (as before and likely forever), "Comme ci, comme ca."

Toodles,
Next Blue Large King.
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  #54  
Old 09-28-2013, 02:08 AM
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To Meeko,

I know you'll never read this letter Meeko, but I want to take the time and write it anyway. I feel like some words need to be aired out for my sake, and I hope you're watching me type this out despite not being able to read a lick of it.

Do you remember Meeko, that time I was but a child? We never got along back then you and I, those years were filled with scuffles and scratches. Though to be honest it was pretty much my fault you got into a bad mood anyway, I was a pretty dumb kid that didn't know much of anything about you. I've done some mean things to you, and as an adult I regret that heavily.

But that rocky beginning led to a stable friendship as I aged, and you were getting a bit older too. Oh man how the days went by when we finally started to get along. You'd go wherever I went and you came when I called you. It felt as if it could never end, could it? The days where you'd nap beside me, or that one Halloween where you got scared at my mom who was wearing a cat costume. Oh and the times when I'd be working on the computer and you'd jump right on the desk and lay down on the keyboard, begging for rubs. Yeah, those were the days.

I can't say I remember how long its been since you've left us, only that it's been over two years now since that god awful summer day. Since second grade you've been with me, and our family, and I had hoped to God I wouldn't be there when the day came to say good-bye to you. But you don't always get what you want I suppose.

I miss you Meeko, you were the best damn cat I've ever had. Wherever you are, I just hope there's a big ball of your favorite catnip there for you to enjoy.

With all my heart, Passim.
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  #55  
Old 09-30-2013, 06:00 PM
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Default In the Past

Dear Stephen Blue Chokatowski,

It has been nearly four years since I saw you and cowered in fear. Walking in the hallways alone, terrified me. There were many days when I skipped school just so I wouldn't have to be near you. My parents knew I wasn't sick, that I was a good student, that I could handle the work load. There was in fact times when I thought we could be friends, where we could laugh and enjoy each other's company. But I was wrong.

This irrational fear of you caused such a great disturbance within my mind, I had made myself look like a fool in front of you countless times. You called me insane. I cannot describe the turmoil I felt over the course of those later years. That hatred, that anger, that confusing display of emotions I still do not understand and do not wish to comprehend, brought me to an all time emotional low. You will haunt me for the rest of my life.

It is my regret that you misunderstood every action I took. I didn't act accordingly to how I should of, to how I could have prevented my suffering of your undermining efforts to make me feel like I was not the attractive woman that I believe I am today. But my biggest regret was frightening you, making you fear me. Like I would do such a thing. How could I possibly attempt to harm you? When all I desired was your safety, no matter how harshly you treated me.

Weakness is what others call it, but I say empathy is what makes people the bravest of all. So I bid you farewell. I hope you are doing well, that you are living a good-safe life. But I also wish we never cross paths again.

Goodbye,
Kyra
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  #56  
Old 10-02-2013, 03:38 PM
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Default To Whom It May Concern;

How to tell you, what I feel
When the words just don't feel.
I can bold them, cap them or even give them a bit of dressing up,
But if you don't understand the look, can you understand the feel?

I feel tears pour out my soul
for good and sad but you just smile.
Color, size and structure demand a feel
Is yours or mine which come to mind.

I want, I send and I wait
flowing from my heart to pen to keys and back again.
Response feeds flutters alas eaten with disappointment.
Please oh please see what I feel.
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  #57  
Old 10-13-2013, 11:53 PM
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*First off I would like to say that my letter contains quite a few uses of a certain f'n word. I haven't read any forum rules, nor did I look very hard for them because really, common sense can account for most any rule. Anyway, if the language isn't allowed my apologies. Also, it's kind of short.






Dear ...

I'm not sure how to start this. I'm not even sure I should, with the way things ended. I don't know why it had to be like that. It's not my fault. I mean shit, it's not your fault either, look, I told you how I felt about it right when it all got started.
But oh, oh no, you didn't want to listen then did you? Well now look at you! Look at where you are, look at where I am! if you'd have listened, if you'd have just let go of your fucking greed for just a minute. a damn second. I could have showed you all of it, what happened before and what was going to happen when we walked through those doors. They knew all about it! But you just wouldn't fucking listen.
And now I don't even know what to do about it, about anything. All of this, it's all just. Just fucking fucked! I hope you know that.
I'm the only one left here to deal with this shit, the only one! You and him, your both gone, I don't even know where he his! but you.. oh you. I loved you. I fucking loved you, but now I can't wait until I get the chance to do you in. You've been on the list honey, the fucking list and your not leaving until I know your six feet under and your fucking corpse is bathing in your own blood. Now more loose ends, no more! I'm through with it, through with you and when I am, baby, you better believe I'm going after him.

Last edited by rob_desharnais; 10-14-2013 at 12:06 AM..
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  #58  
Old 11-06-2013, 08:49 AM
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My Sweet Geoff,

I have sat here for the past hour, pen in hand, trying to think of the right words to say. Something that normally comes to me so naturally, in a fluid motion, is dammed up by tears. Even now, I look at the salted stain and the blurred ink upon the paper I am writing. And see how hard it is, not for me, but for you. My eyes have been opened to the torture you must be going through.

Not that I didn’t on some levels understand it before. Now I just see it more clearly.

As I sit here, I can’t help but to think back to the very beginning. To the moment I first set eyes on you. I was in love. Before I even met you I was in love with you. You were and still are every dream I never knew I wanted. So perfect in every way.

I just wish there was something I could do to take away the pain, to wipe all the tears you refuse to shed, to banish once and for all the tiger in the closet.

Remember, nothing I do is meant to hurt you.

Love,
Mom


------

The letter is part of a novel I am writing about a mother who must come to terms with her son's mental illness. Accept that is wasn't something she did wrong, but instead something that happens.

She writes this letter to her son, after a visit to the hospital he was placed in after he nearly kills her during a schizophrenic episode.
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  #59  
Old 11-11-2013, 05:50 PM
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Dear One-legged Arthur,

Please stop kicking my arse. Not only is it distracting, it is physically impossible.

Yours Sincerely,

Tony
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  #60  
Old 12-26-2013, 01:01 AM
sdenyer (Offline)
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Default To Phil

I did not know them, did not know they were there, did not think. What should I have done was hide you, but I could not I did not know they would be watching. Planning ultimate death for you and those I knew, I did not know what I know now. I am so sorry. Now you are dead. still love you.

Last edited by sdenyer; 12-26-2013 at 02:30 AM..
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