It’s me again.
Life’s okay on this side, I guess.
My brain’s a bit dead after a binge of Gilmore Girls.
All for the cause of ironing, of course.
Took three times as long to get the shirts pressed,
but it was entertaining.
I know it is not a very edifying programme.
Seems no one can make up their minds about which bed they want to sleep in.
Am I that weird or old fashioned to want romance and a knight in shining armour?
And when did sex become the be-all and end-all of relationships?
I’m a prude.   I know.
But you had something to do with that.

I had a long talk to Debbie today.
She’s mad as hell at you.
She still blames you for Don’s cancer.
Funny how she doesn’t believe you exist, but raises a fist and a finger at you.
I pointed that out to her and she snorted.
Said that she guesses she’s holding me responsible, since I talk to you.
That hardly seems fair.
I pointed that out too and she started to cry.
I want to give her hope.
I want to give her joy.
How do you do that?

Yeah, things can be pretty crappy down here.
But I guess you know that.
I think it’s because something in us longs for something more.
Sometimes I feel like we are all walking around with dirty lenses.
We can’t really see; everything is a bit blurry.
So we squint and try to make out the edges,
make hypotheses, dogma and judgments.

And I have to tell you,
there are a lot of people throwing your name around like they own it,
telling others where to get off.
They act like your henchmen, but they don’t act like you.
Sad to say they’re leaving an awfully bad taste in people’s mouths.
You are definitely not making any Brownie points there.
You know who I’m talking about, right?

Wow — sounds like I am focused on all the bad stuff.
It does sometimes seem like the world’s going to hell,
what with all the greed and bombs and death.
Those things make it hard to remember that there’s good.
Think we just need to be reminded sometimes.
And maybe we need reminding to be the good we want to see.
Well, I need it, anyway.
Poke me tomorrow when I can make a difference.

And while I’m asking for things,
help Don and Debbie,
I don’t know what they really need, but you do.

Now I am going to go to bed.
I’ll see you in the morning.

And, thanks for being here.
Makes it easier to close my eyes.

Good night!




Day Sixteen: Write a poem in the form of a letter to a person, place, or thing.