Letters from within the walls of the citystate of Ambrosia to my dearest friend Ernest

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Savage of a man has been telling lies about us. I used to know him.

Ernest I am amazed at your new work ‘_’. The best yet. Clear and concise. I was confused towards the end but I understood later on. Well done.

And so I walk home. Or not home but somewhere a person creates a place of home for me whilst they exist in my life. They are the home I suppose. I am surrounded by the mutterings and general inanities of the thimble brained worms of the middle class locals. Spewing disingenuous niceties and rubbish worthless ego massaging.

AM I GETTING TOO COMFORTABLE MYSELF? AM I JUST LIKE THEM NOW?

My inner demons caress my disappointments and failures. Haha they cry. Oh dear my mind murmurs. Not the most striking of responses. Oh dear, yes.

Am I wasting my time on meaningless ordinary ideas and works? Valueless mediocrity…that is what these people exist in. Happy to be ‘part’ of something even if that something stinks of below par putrid averageness, swimming in a pool of babies of ideas, ugly ones, ugly little shitfaced children never given the chance or brilliance to turn into something beautiful. Shame. Well fuck them, shut my curtains and I cant see them from my house. Not in my world.

Come inside. Its very nice in here…the pavements stroke your feet with tiny little fingers and natter to your shoes about the perennial flowering buttercups. Cars wiz and woo. Doors swish and swoo…I told you its very nice in here.

But fuck staying in. The wind has not been knocked from my sails yet. I will not sit and eat until I am fat, I will not watch and mock from afar inside my little comfortable flat with my comfortable shield of distance as I make myself happy and fulfill my gluttony.

No we must face this world. Not post notices where people don’t see them. Respond in their faces. Even, if they look like feces. No fences left. Just endless flights of fancy with fornicating folders full of fabled functionless farces. Full up now.

O p en t he d oo r

As always I leave you with the wildest of warmth

Toby

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