(This is the 2nd letter I've mailed to Jadene, & send to everyone to keep you all in-the-loop, as it were.)
4-6-9 Now approaching the 10th day since having received your letter—at least it feels like it has been that long, already—& after having just begun transcribing my written first-responses to the computer, & only having just finished the first page (of about 12, maybe) when ① printer ran out of ink, causing a 2 day delay, during which I wrote another dozen diary pages full; & ②Jerit's letter arrives with an accompanying copy of a letter that Francine wrote to you in her response. So, let's add this up now: One whammy plus 2 whammies equals three. ① incredibly negatively-toned indecency of dysfunction-on-parade, ② half whammies of Jerit's, & one goodheart, which was a whammy of a different sort—a good whammy. ¶ I always suppose these type of letters were probably written with some agenda in mind of the writers' probable desires to, shall we say, stimulate some idea; & that they probably may be having some idea that the style-of-approach they've chosen to utilize will, in their estimation, maybe result in some outcome—possibly? ¶ Okay, so I wrote Jerit a short note of commiseration, apology, regret, & encouragement to go more gently on you & I & Francine of the golden heart. Before his letter had arrived, I had already committed eight 8½ inch by 11 inch tall page sides in pen scribbles, plus 18 pagesides in my diary on the subject of what & maybe, how to do a letter that might carry the simplest kindliest messages, yet get some sort of a message out about complaints that I could try to make everyone feel guilty because of, but of course, I do not & will not operate in that, I think, deplorable manner of attempting to get this or that message out to anybody. ¶ The copy of Fran's letter is the very first piece of (reliable) evidence I've had since our parting company, 30 yrs ago, from which to attempt to glean information about the condition of her psyche; & I was both astonished and greatly comforted to ① marvel at her excellently-adept use of language in the construction ofthat letter, & ②: to know that the heart I knew & loved is still there and still cares enough to try to deal with what I often think of as the (almost/ seeming) un-dealable-withable. ¶ In the past many daze, I've filled another 24 large pagesides with more & more pen-scribbles, as the thought-responses came to me, one-by-one, hour-upon-hour spent reclining or lying on my bunk & thinking, then grabbing up my diary to pen another page side or 2 in response after response. This brings this letter, here, up to date on what has been the routine of this notso crazy man--or nearly so, oftener than not. Hey: I'm old now, kid, & have no wild-eyed gumption left, that desires to jump all over anybody, ever, anymore; & that is that, as far as I am concerned. Now as far as U, bro, & mom are concerned: I don't see where I belong to this disparate blend of mismatching auras swirling about each of you—well: I probably ought to, at least, condescend to admitting some lesser swirl about me as well. But the toughness of my, call it, insulation protects me from such highly-charged energy smacking me in the face as directly as it must be smacking each of you 3, due, in part, to your addiction to technology that seems to oft-times not allow for enough slow time to get settled enough to broach this subject using maybe a more friendly-toned manner of expressiveness? ¶ Nature, who guides my every thought & action, its ambiance and ambiances have taught me this, I think, far more comfortable, less traumatic way to operate my mind & body, here. The change-of-heart I've enjoyed since when I acquiesced & gave my heart, soul, & spirit over into the care & conditioning of this entity, is the kind of change I'd wish upon any & all sufferers of any of the world of choices of what & why to feel suffering over, when sufferers chose to allow this terribly uncomfortable disposition to sweep over them & take over control from their more, shall I say, sentient beings' selves. I have many selves who vie for my attention, but since the change my bad boy guy has split my scene. No lie. Truth, I swear. But you guys keep trying to drag me backward into those spaces where I've already been there & done that, already, & whose 'lesson' permits me to be dedicated to never go there or do that, again; ever. I'll be so bold as to suggest that you also figure out how to accomplish this w/your self's serious dedication, (as I like to quote me) “with ev-ry fiber of a determined being” to force the beast back into some remote corner, down the right deeper tunnel into the very interior of your mind, to where your little workhorses in there can dismember it and dump it on down the dispose-all, garbage chute. Aren't our bodies just the most marvelous conglomeration of the teeniest of teeny bits? ¶ So, after all my writing & writing, I'm feeling defeated in my desire to type it all up & print a presentable read, because of the reality of my body's inability to stay at the job of sitting and typing for more than a page or 2 at a time, & at 40 pages & counting, I've surpassed a point of no return, so to speak, & feeling exhausted from the effort. At, say, 2 one-hour sessions typing per day, I'd have a fifty page response done in maybe two weeks? This is unacceptable due to the apparent serious nature of emotional anguish being portrayed by people I know & feel sort of sympathetic with, but do not & will not allow myself to feel any of the reactive negatives that I see being portrayed in these 3 letters that clobbered my thinker just after the equinoctial energies' diminishing of a week & a half ago. ¶ Fran's letter-to-Jadene has, as she expressed to Jerit after receiving her share the inheritance $$s: “restored my faith in humanity,” her letter to you has restored a similar faith of sorts, I guess, and . . . ¶ Because I could never hope to match the basic heart she expressed so eloquently—& I know that she was sincere; don't you?--& with such a high literary quality as she exhibited in that letter: I no longer feel such an urgent need, now, to do all that uncomfortable sitting & typing I was feeling defeated by; & just shout out a monstrous great gosh-a-mighty DITTO to every word, meaning, admonition, gold-hearted advice, & poignant expression of the pure fine good-hearted-tone she used in her letter! & close with my stated feeling that I could never do anywhere near such a fine job, so: will just send you just this one page letter for now, until I feel like transcribing more again, maybe. Okay?
(sending copies to F. & J., so U 3 can keep your stories straight. Send me more crooked stuff & I may resign....)
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