Re: via the onion290_82_9144February 29 2008, 11:50:16 UTC
Nooo no, no hard feelings at all. I really did have a Christmas present for you, though. I'm really really terrible at sending things in the mail. Sigh.
I'm failing miserably in school again... the two classes I stole my parent's credit card to pay for, ha. HA.
I'm officially breaking up with school after this semester. It's about time.
In the meantime I'm losing my mind and being slow, dull, and idle. I've found a gypsy boy from the Turkish end of Cypress who wants to take me away to live in London with him long enough to document his father's mysteries. I'm scrambling to renew my passport and escape without a trace.
My room is always messy and life is generally dismal and agonizing at the moment but I'm 20 years old and it seems appropriate for now, at least.
I've recently become very, very fond of Erik Satie, and I can't help but think of you sometimes when I listen.
My birthday is April 10th, which is a very fine day to be born on, in my opinion.
I might decide to hop on a bus to Brooklyn this evening. If I do, though, it will have been a very foolish decision. I hope that I don't.
Re: via the onionfreddyphotonFebruary 29 2008, 11:59:50 UTC
as you know i dont sleep at night either which is why we are talking at 6 in the morning. im glad we are still buddies as you say. i actually had some satie going last night. let me reccommend a cd that will change your life. it is a recording of saties piano pieces which are some of the best things the world has going, played by Reinbert de Leeuw
oh yeah, so what was my x mas present? I want it!! Is your story about going to turky by way of london or whatever that crazy paragragh was true. you should just move to westchester. its clean living in a family environment
I'll keep it secret, there's still a pretty decent chance you might get it eventually. And yeah, it's true. I'd be living in London for as long as I please, pretty much. It's a very intriguing proposition. I'd like to tell you more, but it's too complicated and alluring.
But the real reason I came back here to comment was to tell you that Konstantin died last night. His mother called me this morning, hysterical, to tell me. I was basically his only friend. I am so, so sad. But certainly not surprised. Honestly, I'm impressed he managed to survive as long as he did. With him, it was always just a matter of time. You never got to know him well, but I hope that you believe me when I tell you that there was something so, so good inside of him that just shone all over the place when he was sober and was dimmed immensely but still present the rest of the time. Sadly, I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I got to hang out with him when he was not under the influence of narcotics, but those times were so special, and he was such a truly wonderful person to be around. Konstantin was essentially broken, and he never would have been ok. This is the only way things could have ever turned out for him, and it breaks my heart. I would have never put up with the shit I put up with from him from anyone else at all, let alone incorporated them into my life as a friend. But because it was Kon, you always wanted to forgive and forget, always wanted to hope that things would turn out alright in the end.
He was so sweet and sad and pitiful.
An unnerving series of tragic coincidences aligned in the hours before I heard of his death. Strange phenomena mixed with good old fashioned ESP. He was in my head hard, all night long, when I hadn't thought of him for nearly months before that. When his mother called, I was describing him to a friend, and telling them how badly I'd like to bring them to Brooklyn for the Jessica Ricci NYC Experience and introduce them to Konstantin. When I saw his number calling me, my face lit up and I got so excited, thinking what an amazing and delightful coincidence that just as I was talking about him, he was calling me. Then I heard his mother's voice on the other end, and slowly my smile and delight transitioned into the most terrible horror. That's only the tip of the iceberg.
I am trying to come back to town this coming weekend. Hopefully I can make it to his funeral. I've got to find out when it is. But even if I miss it, I'm still probably coming. Maybe we can rendezvous, if you're still planning on visiting with Gus.
When his mother called me, she said that she knew that I was a very nice girl, and just wanted to tell me what happened, and to warn me that this is WHAT HAPPENS, and to persuade me never to touch the stuff again. But ironically, not doing drugs is the farthest thing from my mind right now. I don't know. We'll see what happens. Write back.
I'm failing miserably in school again... the two classes I stole my parent's credit card to pay for, ha. HA.
I'm officially breaking up with school after this semester. It's about time.
In the meantime I'm losing my mind and being slow, dull, and idle. I've found a gypsy boy from the Turkish end of Cypress who wants to take me away to live in London with him long enough to document his father's mysteries. I'm scrambling to renew my passport and escape without a trace.
My room is always messy and life is generally dismal and agonizing at the moment but I'm 20 years old and it seems appropriate for now, at least.
I've recently become very, very fond of Erik Satie, and I can't help but think of you sometimes when I listen.
My birthday is April 10th, which is a very fine day to be born on, in my opinion.
I might decide to hop on a bus to Brooklyn this evening. If I do, though, it will have been a very foolish decision. I hope that I don't.
FUCKFUCKFUCK.
I'm going to change my bedsheets.
I don't sleep at night.
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http://www.amazon.com/Erik-Satie-Piano-Reinbert-Leeuw/dp/B0000BWVDE/ref=pd_bbs_6?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1204286163&sr=8-6
same pieces everyone loves played at a tempo which sounds like underwater. maybe for your birthday i can send you a copy.
im going to see gus for the second time next weekend, that is my tentative plan anyway, but sometime soon.
whenever i hear from you i get your name stuck in my head sung to the tune of elenor rigby with the names switched.
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Haha, I am honored to be in the fine company of Ms. Rigby on the happy occasion of being in your head.
I'm glad I handed Guz over to you, if only because I'm sure you'll keep better track of him than I'm capable of.
I can't wait for spring.
I'm stuck I'm stuck I'm stuck.
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But the real reason I came back here to comment was to tell you that Konstantin died last night. His mother called me this morning, hysterical, to tell me. I was basically his only friend. I am so, so sad. But certainly not surprised. Honestly, I'm impressed he managed to survive as long as he did. With him, it was always just a matter of time. You never got to know him well, but I hope that you believe me when I tell you that there was something so, so good inside of him that just shone all over the place when he was sober and was dimmed immensely but still present the rest of the time. Sadly, I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I got to hang out with him when he was not under the influence of narcotics, but those times were so special, and he was such a truly wonderful person to be around. Konstantin was essentially broken, and he never would have been ok. This is the only way things could have ever turned out for him, and it breaks my heart. I would have never put up with the shit I put up with from him from anyone else at all, let alone incorporated them into my life as a friend. But because it was Kon, you always wanted to forgive and forget, always wanted to hope that things would turn out alright in the end.
He was so sweet and sad and pitiful.
An unnerving series of tragic coincidences aligned in the hours before I heard of his death. Strange phenomena mixed with good old fashioned ESP. He was in my head hard, all night long, when I hadn't thought of him for nearly months before that. When his mother called, I was describing him to a friend, and telling them how badly I'd like to bring them to Brooklyn for the Jessica Ricci NYC Experience and introduce them to Konstantin. When I saw his number calling me, my face lit up and I got so excited, thinking what an amazing and delightful coincidence that just as I was talking about him, he was calling me. Then I heard his mother's voice on the other end, and slowly my smile and delight transitioned into the most terrible horror. That's only the tip of the iceberg.
I am trying to come back to town this coming weekend. Hopefully I can make it to his funeral. I've got to find out when it is. But even if I miss it, I'm still probably coming. Maybe we can rendezvous, if you're still planning on visiting with Gus.
When his mother called me, she said that she knew that I was a very nice girl, and just wanted to tell me what happened, and to warn me that this is WHAT HAPPENS, and to persuade me never to touch the stuff again. But ironically, not doing drugs is the farthest thing from my mind right now. I don't know. We'll see what happens. Write back.
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