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Red Letters

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I'm hungry.

I want you.

My stomach hurts.

I should eat.

I want you more than food.

The room is spinning.

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My hair is red, does that make your cock hard.
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I decided to rid my life of television, giving all of my devotion to you.

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I hate my skin, I hate your skin too.
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You are laughing at me. You are always laughing at me. Even when I begin to undress you take your hands and make those pointing gestures you love so well.  You tell me that laughing is what keeps you alive. You tell me to laugh at everything too. Laugh at the floors I sweep for you, laugh at the accumulating dust invisible to my eyes. Laugh at the boy that tells me, clean the house, clean the house, and in return I shall laugh at you. I shall tell you that your dead father came to the house today. He came to visit us, and in some trustful lie you shall believe me, and I shall laugh at you like I always do.

 

Happy Valentine’s Day darling. Today, I fell in love. I fell in love with the dust bunnies underneath our king sized bed. I thought about 100 reasons why I love you, and they all ended with some woman killing herself in one way or another. I though about the woman who sliced her wrists with her husband’s razor blades, I thought about the woman who jumped off the balcony from her husband’s 30th floor suite, I thought about the woman who ran naked around the streets in some maddened state of mind so the police can take her away and say that it is all because of Valentine’s day.

 

Happy Valentine’s day. The persons who receive chocolates are always the assholes. The willing participants who inflict such pain on such stupid people that believe surprises are better than jokes. Today, the tortured shall give their presents to the inflictors, and I shall lay underneath this bed just the same, without a care. I will stay here in my fortress, safe from the jerks and the bitches that manages to break every single heart given to them.

 

They cannot distinguish the difference between chocolate hearts and human hearts. They want to destroy them all. Destroying all of the hearts with their fingers and their bellies. With that painful hunger that dwells around their heads. That undulating ache penetrating the spine with every twist, with every disc.

 

And then they laugh. They laugh because it hurts. They laugh because they cannot comprehend the meaning of getting something for nothing.

 

Nothing? Nothing? Why would someone just do something and expect nothing in return? Oh, yes, they do expect something, and I am going to get it out of them, even if I create that something myself. I know they want something. I know they think I am cheap. I know, but they won’t tell me. Especially her, her, her!!! That woman I want to strangle so badly. She won’t tell me what she wants. This is all a cruel game she is playing upon me. I am going to teach her a lesson. I am going to teach her how worthless this all is, this so called Valentine’s day; I am going to kill her self-esteem. I am going to destroy whatever heart is left inside of that ruffled box of hers, and then I am going to take her out to that stupid Spanish restaurant just to spite her even more.

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Freedom in death. What a nonsensical thing to say.

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I have been sleeping at 9 o’ clock for the past twenty years of my life. Now that I am thirty years old, I’ve decided to sleep earlier. 3 hours earlier, to be precise. I have been robbed of sleep, of life. The 3 hours I waited for sleep has brought me 3 more hours closer to death.

 

I saw your paintings. Some unknown director used it for his independent horror film. The main character is a Portuguese hairdresser. He takes the women and sits them down on the his hairdresser's chair where he zaps them of all energy and injects them in all of his paintings. Call it transference of energy if you will, I think it is all ghostly nonsense.

 

Do you care at all that he used your paintings without your acknowledgement?

 

He can have them all. I don’t like staring at them. They keep on coming back to me. I just want the tide to wash them away.

 

The soldiers are now being marked whether they are cowards or not. The cowards get sent to Niagara Falls to be killed, the remarkable thing is, they all end up surviving. So they take them back up to the peak and push them down all over again.

 

She is going to try to kill us. I know her plan. I know what she is doing. I know where she is going. She is coming upstairs now. Shhhh.. pretend you’re all asleep, and then I will knock her out with this ivory in my hand.

 

She killed all of them. She ended up having a knife in her hand, and an antique hammer in the other. She bashed grandpa’s head in with the hammer, right there, on the left temple. I saw him in the morgue. I saw the tender spot where the blood collected underneath his skin.

 

Poor grandpa. Poor everyone who was pretending to sleep in the same room I was pretending to lay asleep too.

 

That was more of a favor. Grandpa cannot even remember her name anymore.

 

They say that objects shouldn’t be named; objects shouldn’t be individually identified, because all is the same. All is one. The more you forget the names of things that causes suffering, the freer you are.

 

So she gave him the ultimate freedom.

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Let's run away together. Let's run away from the television and the programmed cable.

I want to live with you, without this, without that. Without images telling me what to do. I want to grab you and stop you from melting into the couch. The couch is eating you, and soon you will disappear, your ass is already gone. Your back, haunched over. Your smile, your frown, your bad breath has vanished, stuck in between the glass and the laughing audience somewhere. Somewhere they are there harvesting the laughter. Somewhere out there they are recording the voices in a big cardboard box. Somewhere they are taking you slowly away, and I want you darling.

I want you to come back to me.

Remember the time. Remember the seconds. Remember the dull days they rip from your bones. Remember the ticking of the clock.

Tell me about the wall darling. Tell me why they ripped it down, then tell me why they should have left it alone.

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