Going thru old bones and found this letter:
"The Perfect Dawn"
I've written many Jack Kerouacian odes to you and the Sun this morning. Full of molten highwaymen and raw illumination. For your copy of delights, look to the stars. They are the library of misguided dreams.
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The shell is broken. The yolk is exposed. I will go to Los Angeles in December. Too much fun to be had.
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Funny how everything looks different when the fuse is lit (even if only in your mind). Monsters are back to Shadows (then back to monsters again because Monsters tell better jokes). And all is as it is.
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I thought I needed to fight for the freedom of change (I always do), when it is simply in the way you hold the mirror until you can see it (or something like that). I think the sweet release of sleep of is about to be mine.
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I feel you with me. There's a giggle I hear inside that is not my own.
Beautiful...
Why I'm sharing this I do not know. I was compelled and here we are...
*
