\input tex
\twelvepointdunhill

Dear most lovable Josh,

Fuck. Yesterday I actually worked all day and didn't get frazzled. I
stopped at 6:30 and took a nap. I drank only one cup of coffee to
ward off the inevitable withdrawal headache. I am still restless
though, but it's a permanent state -- really. It's what drives my
creative energies, and also drives me crazy. So last night, I finally
decided to go out somewhere, at 10:30PM. I went to the Horseshoe
Caf\'e but there were too many people so I went back home, buing an
over-priced bottle of sake on the way. What a stupid outing.

So I proceeded to drink about 300mL (three small flasks) and write you
a letter. What a mistake. I truly was not drunk, but definitely
buzzed; the letter was so atrocious I just deleted it forever and
ever. It was so stupid and inept I can't believe it. 

So here it is Thursday morning (for some inexplicable reason I woke
up at 7:30AM) writing you some sort of letter to make up for last
night's disaster. The problem is, I never have much to say in the
morning. 

About all I really want to do now is crawl into bed with you and
squeeze you tight, my body nestled up into yours, my arms around your
chest, my dick pressing your ass, and my mouth on your neck. And stay
that way for a few hours, at which time one or both of us couldn't
stand just laying just there anymore, probably I'd have a decent
hardon by then (I don't now, but I will soon), and you'd roll over and
I'd feel yours and you'd probably end up on top of me. Right now I
just want to feel you pressing hard against me, to reassure me that
you're there (I know you are even way up North) physically. 

Though I somehow manage to go through each day, and even occasionally
get something done, I think about you all the time. I tell people
about you all the time, but it's funny, I realize I will never be
able to communicate to anyone else the intensity of how I feel about
you. They'll all just have to wait and see I guess. 

Unfortunately this is going to be a short letter (the lettertoma I
hatched last night was long) because it's now 10:00, and this Italian
zine/techie person is coming by, referred to me by Suzanne, this
anarchist woman who keeps having odd strangers call me. He wants to
talk about cyber-something. I hope he means {\tt bOING bOING} type
stuff. He could be really awful. I'll certainly find out.

Well, more later. I want to get this in the mail before 11, before the
mailman comes. I miss you so much, I need to touch you and talk to you
and somehow, remembering just holding hands walking around is the
worst, I guess because it was so taken for granted and simple. I crave
all of you, I miss seeing you, I miss hearing your sexy voice in the
other room, and seeing you shitting on the toilet (how romantic). Bye
again, for now\dots

\bye