Woozle/Jenny/note/007

Transcript

(4 pages)

Nov. 14, 1980 (Fri)

Dear M.P.W.W.S.T.O.B.P.O.P.A.P.T.I.P.L.,

As I said to you on the bus – I wouldn't worry but worry. In other words, worry but don't worry too much. Don't worry until you make yourself sick, but also don't ignore the problem so much it makes you feel guilty.

Um. You see, I'm not used to someone as graphic and straightforward as you. Often we deal in metaphors and acronyms. (is that the word?) We, meaning Cindy Erika and I. Being writers we tend to do this, making life a little more bearable*.

* note the ketter (note) I gave you – it was very vague, But it was vaguely specific. If you knew what I am talking about it made sense, & if you didn't it still did.

Indelicate situations we tended to talk around the subject or replace it with something comparable.

Once again, I say I am not used to things being brought out in the open – the way you do. In a way it makes me embarrassed but it also makes me feel better about the goresum-foursum's relationship.

Last year we had times when somehow or another we would be separated and this would cause us to wander around like ships that have lost their mooring. Especially when Cindy was absent (in body or spirit) Erika and I would — sit.

And after these times sometime there would be a feeling of unrest(?) We would look at each other and see strangers. Or see friends, good friends that we had known a long, long time ago. Have you ever met with one of these friends before? You smile, laugh, talk about the old times – but you've lost that spiritual tie that grew over a long time to be made strong and then to be broken. Being with one of these friends is one of the saddest things you may do in your life.

Memories are fine. But lost friends warmed over are sick.

We have had times (to get back on the subject) when we would reach and never touch, our eyes wouldn't meet, and our minds would be screaming at the things our mouths were saying.

Don't worry but worry. You're right that is my problem. I never commit myself to an answer. I'm too afraid I'll be wrong. A lot of the time I don't know. You can call it seeing both sides of the story or you can call it being wishy-washy.

I reference to the first letter/note (I'll call it a note – sounds less formal) of Friday November fourteenth:

* this is to confuse you and make you think of profound things like each question is its own answer etc.

A* Who / what is Edward Gorey?

1 this is to confuse you more and follow before the "A"

Q¹ The Doubtful Guest, The Unstrung Harp, The Vinegar Works, The Gashcrumbly Tinies, The Pious Infant, The Beastly Baby are, to name a few, of his works.

And what became of Confirmation?

Nothing became of it. I told you about the retreat last weekend (the 8th and 9th) more or less. And how I wrote 20 pages of writing to while away the hours. Sunday I have R.E. (Religious Education, better known as C.C.D. What does C.C.D. stand for? Catholic, something, Doctrine, I think)

Oh, I like your clever way of telling someone to turn the page. You did confuse me somewhat but I did figure it out!

The second note Friday November the fourteenth:

"Love is a constant rattle" ?

Love ? O.K. No questions asked.

Is this note long enough to make up for a week's worth of no writing? ....2 3; ..4..12:...

I am full of empty ideas in answer to your request. Wiggle your ears.

Call a group meeting and make everyone look at each other.

Píczluvvík,

Linda

M.O.T.C.P.S.A.O.I.G.O.W.T.T.W.

P.S write down all
your arguments concerning
my confirmation

Scans