somewhere around february 2004, i must catch up the lost time *a la recherche du temps perdu cf Proust*

Dear other,

I'm ever so sorry for having been indolent and so slothful in my writing for the past few months. I have been in most astir, both mentally and physically, and not once did I truly take a day off . I'm loving every second of my temporary-and-unfortunately-close-to-termination stay in life. I guess I will write more "expansively" another time. SO let's stick to the factual: *one more outburst of heartfelt emotion: I'm thrilled * I am most definitely and terminally IN LOVE. Deep love, which from the insides of my unrelenting passion emerges and rises. Where is the brink? What really matters? How and when and Why and Who is the link? A little composition of mine I just came up with, surely Love will alleviate all pain, cure and heal me baby I cannot venture into the dark alleys of this heartbeat (cf Joseph Conrad, the beating drum and Marlowe's confusion), but the horror, the horror is truly bright and stings at my soul, I love him so, him, an other other but not any other , the one other of others, oder…I like when he speaks I love to hear his voice * yet well I know that music has a far more pleasing sound. Stop it shaky you're deviating my original though of ethers' heights of perfection and divine bliss * He is my feeling of being alive. As my crazy mind craves for air, his breath is like the tender dropping of a doll's precious lids, easing the pain and so soothing. I have made it.