While on the subject of Letters: Ancient Favorite Letter

O adelphae !

I fear this is an email that is fated to last years.
Da veniam meae, amabo te.

Being a classics major is plenty annoying
and I've decided to make it worse by dropping cliches, like:
"Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do !" or
"That looks like Greek to me !"
Then follow that up with a chuckle self-deprecating enough to
give decent people chills.

Steam of conscience like an ant's walk down guitar strings
or all the ink since Gutenberg; including
notes in the margins.

+ I am LISTENING to the Mountaingoats
no I'm not.
I'm listen'n to the Microphones,
which is more apt for these tangling bull-branches of emotion.

The painful, powerful sky -
and my lack of dawn,
my one-sided warmth.

Ohhh, oh.

So, you Posh Prim Pink Lady,

Guh.

So, I broke up with Caleb. Monday, actually.
Very. Very good move.
However, I find myself struggling
to feel worthwhile when
everyone in my immediate environment treats me
like a sticky countertop.

I don't matter enough to warrant action,
but should be avoided when possible.

The Unfortunately Blonde and their negative indifference
wearing shirts with letters they do not understand -
but I do.

The black people
and their separate fraternities,
Or more accurately,
their lower-income housing
shoved at the back of campus.

What brilliance. Look, if we can convince
the monkeys they have their own social cluster,
they'll remove themselves from our sight
and think it's of their own accord.

I wake up early and walk around campus,
obsessed with trappings of grandeur.
Maintenance workers scurry everywhere, hundreds,
scrubbing the white columns and picking up empty beer bottles
from the night before.
I can accurately use the word grotesque.
I smile and wave as I pass; they swiftly avert their eyes and
an expression of shame floods their faces.
I drop something in the cafeteria and the
black woman with the horrible teeth at the door rushes
to pick it up for me. She must have been over 50,
perhaps older.

It is pervasive and insidious, and at first you think it's a
series of coincidences. But it's not.
It hangs, a silent stench in the air.

None of these things are that surprising
(appalling, yes, but not unexpected)
plus you already agree with me,
but I - I feel the need to yell them somewhere,
and it is too exhausting to yell them here.

And right now I'm trying to not think about the chemistry
I'm 'posed to be doing. Eh ?
But mostly it's just reassuring to know
a familiar set of eyes that smile easily
are willing to indulge my moments of ire.

OEIFjwiofapf.v.avjaweoi.

and so on.

Oh you - you molecule squad !
You multicultural nation
with a symphony orchestra and
chalk-angel graffiti !
You anti-weasel !

Thank you, I hope you are well.
I feel vaguely dissatisfied by
the visit
but super glad I came.
Ryan is nice. Truly.
You two are
complementary colors
tan+black
or a keyboard/drum solo.

To use the Marian assessment of worth:
Intellectual and physical
is yes.
A true rating of the emotional aspect is
more involved,
but in the short time I was there,
and especially based on your cheek-splitting
smile on Saturday eve,
I have quite a positive impression.

This email certainly doesn't really have a point.
Sorrae. I don't know where to get off.
Hahhahah.
Dad: "I am not pleased. I am not pleased."

Oh and um. Caleb thought your sweater and shoes
were mine, since our wardrobe stylin's are like
olives and pickles
so, don't toss and turn.

I have your lily-white sweater and
those damnfine, boss loafers.

And will mail them to you when I get money,
which unfortunately will have to be nexxx month.
Gasoline! You succubus.

But yeah,
let me know if that's just crazy and awful
and maybe I'll be able to
take out a loan or find a more
reasonable solution.

I've been meaning to call, but
somehow I hit a squall of seasonal depression
and there have been TWO roaches in my room since my arrival
and Kristin and Jessica haven't returned calls
and David posted new-wave pictures online of himself
with his eccentric, quirky girl-friend
and my eyes teared up when I got back my Latin test today and
made a 97 because I felt so dissappointed with myself,
so I deemed it unwise to call you for a chat.

Oh, and I got a phone call last night from
a 228 area code with someone crying on the other end
and yelling, "you fucking bitch, you made me cry, fuck you"
overandover.
They called back a lot.
Maybe a prank, but creepy nonetheless.

All this to say that I don't want to call you because I'm paranoid that
your friends (and/or (you)) dislike me,
aesthetically and philosophically,
and I feel that awkwardness right now would
give my heart pal-pi-ta-tions.

So right yeah.
about now.

-em

ps.
Oh, and I'm a bit fond of Kant lately.
Who knows?!