farmfish hold hands. kiss cheeks. 021211
ClairE A rather crappy one (more of a love_note really):

Dearest Jonathan,
How I long to feel your arms around me. Missing you is just long_distance_love. I feel at this point in our relationship we are a lot more settled. I don't get upset if I don't get to talk to you, I just miss you a little bit more. I am secure in knowing that you love me and I love you. I hope we have a happy future together. I can't thank you enough for loving me.
Loving you gives me that overwhelming feeling of happiness that we all get to experience sometimes. You know at the end of American_Beauty, when Kevin Spacey's character says that sometimes life is so beautiful, he can't stand it? That is how you make me feel.
I will always be grateful to you for loving me.
falling_alone i've been thinking about you tonight, and all of blather now knows this.
you've been asking me to write you more notes, like you did for me when we started out dating, and of course my competitive devil inside says i've got to overshadow all of those daintily folded loveletters in your memory box. i never knew how to fold letters like that, i'm sure it was easy but i wasn't interested in that crap... looks like a good start. but really i'd rather be doing instead of writing.

one day i want to make you lose control.
i suppose thats pretty hard considering you're bedroom has no door.
mine does.
keep thinking that over.
that and more than anything i want to hear you want me.

love you ry-pie.
thinking of you always;
unhinged i remember the first night i met you. i was magnetized even then. the way your whole face smiles, the way you close your eyes and nod your head when you play the blues.

or now

the way less than perfect isn't good enough for you about things you care about. that you do everything in your power to make it right, good, perfect. the mischief we get in together. the way you appreciate my brain and my talent but will whistle at me when you see me for the first time at work. the way i feel like i can tell you anything (and i have) and the way i can cry in front of you.

you went to pottery school before you went to luthier school. you traveled to thailand for three months and then south america. you are amazingly supportive. the longer i know you, the longer my list gets of why you're amazing. but even that first night, the way your whole face smiled. you make me such a girl. the joy you make in me bubbles up out of my throat.

i love you most.
unhinged but i've convinced myself
that i'll never be anything but
your friend

even though
i can still imagine these tableaux
of us


i need a hand to grab
i want it to be yours
but i've convinced myself

you put the sister curse on me anyways
word only chicks post here 070907
j. wie_schade 070910
Lemon_Soda Dear Love,

I was a fool to let other's words spark my anger. To that end, I apologize, even though I know you do not accept apologies. I wish you well and hope life lets you smile.

unhinged you liked my outfit today because this shirt makes my tits look marvelous.

i like your crazy hair. it makes me want to grab it.
unhinged you make me happy
i can only smile when
i think of you
Death of a Rose My love,

You wandered in here, placing things I thought were small and inconsequential.

You left them scattered like a fall wind playing,

I watched and said nothing that would change your patterns,
because each small thing you left was of you.

A smudge, a tear drying, the marks you left as you sketched your heart to me,
all I left as they were.

Your happiness in hugging, each crease in my shirts from your embrace,
I left as they were.

I miss you, my love, and all my writing is nothing more than your remembered leavings.

unhinged you make me forget to be sad 071118
unhinged (it's the damn dimples; i'm a sucker for the dimples) 071118
Syrope more importantly
ever dumbening Dear R, C, and S,

I listened to a show once on local radio station KUSF called Love Letters Live. It's one of those shows that carves out moments of time and memory, in this case with people's words of love, of an endless variety. Most of us can use some improvement on showing love and appreciation, so it's nice when something can inspire expression. With thanks, then, to time and tide (and occasional creative radio shows), I sit to tell you three why I love you so.

First I should say why I gathered you. There's a thread that runs through the three of you, which is the depth and type of love I feel for you all. And I thought it would be nice for each of you to know that as one of my angels that you have teammates. This is of course not to say that there aren't many many other people in my life who mean a great deal to me. But as I sat looking back at the last day or so surrounding my birthday, I saw you three standing out together.

To say that this year had its hitches is a gargantuan understatement. This applies to all of us; that's part of the beauty, because the support was flowing in more than one direction. It floors me how strong the give and take that I have with each of you is, such a rare balance. I didn't come here to praise myself, though, so back to heaping it in your direction. You were all so patient and supportive of the risks I took this year. You sat with me when doubt was pouring out of every pore. You didn't judge me when I shared all of my fears. You showed the purest love, and I can only reflect it back. So for all of the times this year, and so many other times, that you stood by, I have to give the deepest thanks.

It's so much more than just your helping me swat away pesky demons. Discussions of music, food, earth, sex, love, money, and Red-tailed Hawks have always brought joy and perspective and inspiration, and some serious soul-cleansing laughter. But if I went on with all of the reasons why I love you, this could get tedious.

Recently I was listening to another radio show where Alan Alda was being interviewed. He was asked about the keys to success of his 50 year marriage. He responded succinctly, "I love her. Next question." He went on to simplify the characterization of love down to caring about the well-being of someone. It's crystal clear how much each of you cares about me, and that amount is staggering, saying nothing of the sum total. That all of you give it freely—without expectation, without condition—is just the icing on the cake (and you know how I love sugar).

I guess another reason why I wrote you together is that community can be so lacking and fragmented these days. It's maybe just a selfish way for me to see all of you in one place, but this actually works nicely since you all occupy a similar place in my heart and mind and soul. Irregardless (just kidding) of the form the message takes, I just need you to know how much I love you, how much I appreciate you, and how thankful I am to have you in my life.

I love you.

ever dumbening doing daxles busy work sven 071129
ghgfhgfh I hath wondered in the sinuous vain of Philosopy, set myself down for an Atellaniam facere, et choraulen meum iussi Latine cantare, at the Cena Trimalchionis of my library, which Petronius likeneth to a feast the likes none another hath seen, haud aliter, vacuo cum surgunt nubila ponto, et spumant crebris caerula versa Notis, been lifted to the clouds even with that Latin poetry, and therewith borne witness to mine self from higher phantasies then life, cum testudine, cum ioco atque risu. Nam domi pede claudicans iniquo, cum solo sedet otiosus Alto, like the private tortoise, Cadme, domus, nullus Tyrio grege plangitur infans. primitias egomet lacrimarum et caedis acerbae, though I hath let besides the first tears, which cometh out of lonesomeness, tantumne mane lectulo elapsus senex, for as the bed surely awaiteth the old man, the study room surely awaiteth me, though in every age of my life, so there art many more tears to come, estque voluptatis mox tertia, quarta furoris, ut sapiens sanxit legibus ille Scytha, thereof I supposeth I might drink a fourth glass to madness, as Anacharis saith, for I hath to inure that which Men art not supposed to know, wherewith I must adhere to an inevitable course of life, and know before hand whereto my life shalt come, in so doing becoming aquainted with the melancholy of old age, which is to say, the expectation of the course of life, whereto I am not old. So if thou would speakest about my template in this writing, that I hath lived my life out of [indulgeret Iaccho prodiga] impensum se perdere turpiter aurum, or, so to saye, non inter cicures palpone nocentior ulla est bellua, nec quae plus gignat in orbe mali, indulged in too much gold, whom petteth not the tamer animals, writing with an obscene portent, reminding me even that too much of something commendable hath only an application out of fanciful uses, is but an ornament or a toy, qualem praecipiti gravidum iam sorte parentem, [106] the ordanation of this pregnancy, being but an excitement, and saye: thou hath confused thine own work with so many others, auster nempe polum caeruleis abdidit imbribus, vernae lluce etiam triste caput Pleiades altera obscurae extulerant, et rubeo Bistonis alveo, euxinusque vadis sanguineis pontus inhorruit, thou hath stolen everything from the head of the Pleiades to the river of the Innachus as to be slaves in thou household, hoarded up the public treasure and called it a secret, whereof Aegypti siccitatem temperare Nilus amnis solet, Euphrates Mesopotamiam pro imbribus pensat, Indus flumen et serere orientem dicitur et rigare, the Euphrates and the very Nile draweth up their figure out of the rain, and thereof hath stolen from foreign rivers, I saith: [Naevius]itaque postquam est Orcho traditus thesauro, obliti sunt Romae loquier lingua Latina, [107] hath Rome forgotten it speaks the Latin tongue?, nemora alta ferae. Unicus Assyriis qui vivit odoribus ales, exuviis iterum nascitur usque suis, [108] hath Assyria forgotten it useth perfume so? [All of that is obvious] The writing needs to call upon living oracles, terrasque revises aedera quas liquidis findit amoenus aquis: aedera, qui vatis cunabula perfluit Hessi, et patriae fines separat Alte tuae, [109] or at least to run through the prophets in the cradle of Hessus, needs to recieve itself out of some deliberations, as Men do, from an intestate will, so that it might respect this selection from the Pegma: aspice ut assiduo sitientia culta labore, Corycius subigit nocte dieque senex, to laboreth after that will, so that I hath blessed my writing with this, for this is how to make the value obvious in any work of literature, so to saye, we call this in men the spirit, IE. the writing must demand something of itself, and that demand to meet, and thus hath I met with what I inteded to do, and indebted my writing to Daedalus ingenio fabrae celeberrimus artis, shrugging off thou Cayphae multum exosusque cohorti degeret illaesus [per vicos, compita, et urbem Se ostendens populo] as exuvias asinus Gaetulus for I shalt carry these passages as that crown, Isidis herbis, seligit ambrosios pulcherrima Gratia flores, contexit geminas Concordia laeta corollas, extollitque suas taedas Hymenaeus in altum, like a torch to my censure even, [ with Theophanes] omnis Stellerum condemnat turba moratum, haerens, cur equidem, nescio, salus amat. Tum redit et medicus, faciesque irascit ipsis praevertit reditum quod fera parca suum, if thou hath regarded this as but a commotion, doth not come back to me like I was your doctor, or am fully prepared yon to stand affirm and diagnose, confirm, and treat, thine offense, as it where, even if nihil Hippocrates, nihil Galenus mihi occultum possidet, vitam ego hominum, ubi morbi ingruunt, in manibus fero, I shalt miss nothing from between Hippocrates to Galen in this writing. 071130
Ouroboros unless the person one writes to is on blather as well. 071130
chorfle this inspired my sven post, but I once again discovered that waxing poetic is not my forte. i prefer visuals. 071130
falling_alone Dearest Ry-pie my sugarbum,

i could be cliche and tell you that absence makes the heart grow fonder...
so i will.

this void i have, without you here with me across the ocean, just makes the thought of holding you when i return all the more exciting.

oh my, can you hear that...a sonnet of bluebirds in the distance...
enough of the sap, this is turning into a Disney cartoon.
i just wanna give your ass a good squeeze.

love you forever and always,

p.s. i know you'll find this eventually.
jane i'd be happy with just one. 080219
stork daddy dear jane, i love you. though our rejoinder is a fiction in a fictive other universe, in dreams sometimes it invites me, and in dreams i accept. 080219
stork daddy the defining feature of an alternate world. 080219
Ouroboros He greeted me at the airport, lifted up his shirt to show me the piece of paper taped to his stomach, which said, "Welcome home my little sapporot (with a picture drawn of pineapple) I love you." 080221
unhinged send_more_loveletters 080221
Doar are a tracking method, scurry performance, letting out the numbers.

what seems to you a number,
do you agree with a designation?

Do you feel that you have been stolen, from each response?

Is that here and now, bowing your heart, transforming your heart to not stolen?

An and/or statement,
it leaves you with more ?'s

Or does it leave you with the sheeps view?

who do you trust?

squishyfish squishyfish 101111
what's it to you?
who go