Tuesday, November 01, 2016

A Letter To Debby

Hello Debby, remember me? I know you do. I'm only curious to see what you admit. You are definitely one of the deluded many who think you can't be defined by what you don't say. Looking down from above it's a comical sight to see. But in your case you've bet your life on it. Bad bet.

I've written a few letters lately. Yours comes last because you are last to me now. You have nothing to offer. First your heart implodes and still you say nothing. Then you let it bleed out, telling yourself it's fine while it still has blood. Now that lie is dead. Like an ISIS overlord you spread terror as fear has become your lord and master. You need a helping hand out but will never dare to ask.

Things always seem worse when you're running away. But let's make no mistake that you made sure you had no place to where you could run. Above all, you wanted an excuse to stay put, do nothing, keep silent. Don't need a soothsayer to know how that turns out. Do you have anyone in your life whom can tell you these things? Or does only your act have friends? Good riddance to the act.

Are you going to become a cackling conservative like your parents? Will you give in to the lying and call your deception holy? Having taken your reward in this world how can you now betray it? Instead, you will wrap yourself in false activism and pseudo-philosophy. Maybe you'll "support the troops" with a bake sale or go around spouting new age platitudes. Most of all you will cloak yourself in religion hoping that will bring you closer to God, all the while it eats away at you knowing it only drives you farther apart.

I have not done well without you. One could say I have literally missed you to death. No mercy can be found in this. God is more ruthless than a thousand dictators combined. So we end up broken, drifting apart across the universe unable to communicate. Communication, of course, is the key to human survival. The anarchy of lying dooms human relationships and those relationships are the building blocks of the world - for better or worse.

So what's to be done? I have no idea. I'd recommend you confess. That's the slippery first step leading to life and the end of your world. To whom can you confess? You can have no peace until you can answer that question. You don't drink or take physical drugs but your mask is your drug. During your daily interactions you allow it to numb you like morphine, believing the mask you pose is your true face. In the alone times it all comes back like a boomerang returning the pain twice as hard. That's no kind of life.

Can our paths ever cross again? Would it mean anything if they did? What could have been, what should been? Because the truth was not served those questions cannot be known. Your actions said my feelings meant nothing to you. I was too afraid to take you away. You were going to have to step out on your own. That you would never do no matter how right or wrong. So we end up as shattered driftwood on a river floating helplessly downstream, unnoticed and useless, destined to wind up in a fire, purged from the world. Have a nice day.

Sketch of opening sequence of the film

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