I'm not done writing you postcards, you owe me an answer.
Here's the 81th "last one", the thing I have to say:
The story between you and me is very deeply involved in what this "general weirdness" I am going through is about. From as far as I can see it, there
is no explanation what so ever why people keep you and me from talking. But they do, right? All the flares, the almosts, you "coincidentally" being
nearby? You're just a dick? Or what is this?
And what makes it so sad is you were the last beacon of hope, the one I projected so much on to. I know it was my projection and you are far different
than I expected you to be.
It's both true, you are an awesome genius, adorable, the best at what you do. But you're also a ball less dick. At the same time. And you sound a bit
depressed honey, are you alright?
But oh silly me, you don't talk to me, you're running away screaming "leave me alone" two young guys with guitar called you crazy *your name.
You were there almost greeting me ffs. And you had a different companion and than she jumped in stopped you from greeting and the guy you came with
was gone. And she talked and not you and you were definitely sending mixed messages. Why am I the only freaking person in the world you're not talking
This sh1t could be important bigger than you might guess, not just my life, billions. I meant it when I said alien contact to prove god is real, this
level of holy crap. From the beginning on there were a few headlines. Don't take it too serious, but it's important. Don't freak out, don't panic and
only you are allowed to help me. This fact that they keep you from talking to me gives it some eerie validation.
This story with you makes me almost vote for humanity to get wiped out, if love is a mental illness what's there to live for?
Point is, for love, for humanity, for me (and I am sorry I dragged you in this mess) what the hell is going on? You have to find a way to let me know.
The truth is the only thing that can save us.
edit on 1-1-2017 by Peeple because: Add