Deer Heart Dear Heart Here Dart

Dear K,

I'm sitting in a Starbucks trying to psyche myself up for a job interview and simultaneously thinking about everything in my life and the panic of the coffee is starting to grip me but that might be a good thing over-caffeinated ramblings sometimes knock some truth loose especially if you let the fingers hit the keys at a fantastic rate and you don't stop to think or to punctuate. That's the ticket you know? Just to type and type and let your words flow. They come in eddies and they come in streams and you get caught up in the patterns of things. You let the rhythm sort itself out, you let the things you say stop mattering. You let the thoughts you think become smaller and smaller and smaller until there is only your fingers hitting the keys, and that is about as close as I have ever come to finding a sort of peace. The secret to life is to somehow be ok with how terrible and great the world is simultaneously. There is great pain and great joy. There is nothing you can do about either. There is nothing you can do about it, so just let go and let your fingers hit the keys, and walk your dog and ride the bus and go to work and come home and make a big pot of soup and listen to the radio and maybe they will play billie holiday and she'll sing about your anxiousness and your unease and your sorrow and your guilt and your pain and all the little sharp knives you grow inside and, I know this is hard to read, its because punctuation and editing are things that we use to make things easier to read, but at least I typed this out and didn't write it out by hand. It'd be a real nightmare then. You know? Sometimes I sit and think about you. I wonder about when you smile. I'd like to be there someday soon and see that smile of yours, and I'm not talking about the everyday smiles. I'm talking about the ones that shoot out of your heart unexpectedly. You know, like when you see a really good dog in the park doing a really great thing, like leaning forward, bowing almost, but wagging its tail the whole time, you know how dogs like to indicate that they're playing? I want to see you smile at something like that. I've been filling my soul with knives for a long time, it is very poky in there. You know? I know you know. You're the great knife sharpener. But I hope somebody throws some lovely pebbles in there and dulls the knives. I hope somebody throws some great big rocks into your soul and convinces you that you're great and lovely and deserve to smile like seeing a big shaggy dog. But now I need to go and interview for a job. Wish me luck, even if you wish it to me in the future it will still affect the past, because luck is quantum.

Thinking of you,

K