Dear Joe

[Vesnic]

Inspiration seems to happen in clumps. I see Usoki has posted over on the bowwwm chicka thread, but I'm starting a new one here because I want some input from all you stupid geniuses. I won't copy anyone verbatim in the actual story, I just want some inspiration. Anyway, here we go.

Psychotic Love Letter:

Dear Joe,

After a frenzied search through my purse, I finally found that little piece of paper. That torn napkin with your email address and your digits. Do you remember that night, Joe? How you sensually rubbed my arm and whispered sweet Italian nothings in my ear? Do you remember how distressed you were when I told you I couldn’t go home with you and the others because I was, I was waiting, for somebody else? I remember seeing you as you drove away, that downcast expression which knew that I could not be yours that night. Oh Joe, do you know how long I have kept your picture at my bedside? How many times I have drenched that little image with my tears and also with my. Oh Joe, do you know how much I think about you, night and day, but always with the painful knowledge that you can’t be mine tonight, or the next night. Let’s change all that, Joe!

I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. I don’t want to talk bullshit and I don’t want to exchange pleasantries. I want to tie you to your chair and then knock you over backwards while subjecting you to the most torturous of ticklings. I want to lick you until you turn red and splotchy. I want to rip off your clothes bit by little bit with my nail scissors and if I pinch you in the process, so much the better. I want to press my body into yours until it seems impossible that we could ever have been two separate beings. I want us to fall together into the neverending pit, without any hope of ever coming to the surface again. I want to devour you, body and soul. I will have you as my own.

Joe, I know where you live. In fact, I might go there tonight. No, I will go there tonight. No one will notice your head in my freezer, will they? No, probably not. Frozen, my love, cryogenically preserved, I could have you forever and ever. No one would ever take you away from me ever again, my sweet Joe.

If only you knew what delightful tortures I have in store, but first we must meet, Joe. For a coffee, perhaps? Yes, let’s have a nice coffee and catch up on old times. Then I will take you home and drink your blood, slowly, from each of the little nail-scissor gashes so artistically arranged across that broad manly chest of yours.

Eternally yours,

Ves



Can anyone else write an awesome psychotic loveletter?

[Vesnic]

In the immortal words of Terrance and Philip, "You're all a bunch of ass-ramming uncle fuckers!"

[xnull]

Why don't I post one I've already written? I'll censor it just a little to protect the identities of everyone but myself (I've replaced my real name with John Samos)

Dear Sarah,

I realized today when I didn't meet up with you during the weekend
that...well, I'm still unconvinced that you could possibly think that
we are uncompatible. If you ever did mean it when you said that you
loved me, then reflect upon this and you'll see what I mean. If not,
then hey, your loss, right? I will have no problem getting another
girlfriend....but I am going to have a rigorous battle getting another
girlfriend like yourself. I have already given up on the relationship,
at least for now. if things come back together then we should remember
Miss Smith's aphorism, "A friendship is like glass; once broken, it
can be mended, but it will always have cracks." The truth that I want
you to know, I suppose, in the end of it all is the following. When I
told you that I loved you, I meant it. I loved you. I was in love,
although it didn't work out too well for me. Be proud and hold your
chin up: you can tell everyone in the world that you were the first
woman that John Samos ever fell in love with. You are special. You
have a place in my heart, Sarah and thank you for those good times
and the conversations. I still read the conversations, you know. To
this very day, I read and read and reread these marvelous moments in
my life. I like to use the word nostalgia to describe it, myself, but
I amn't sure if enough time has passed by for that to be appropriate.
From the beginning you have seen me and my úber-emotions battle. I
feel extremes, nothing mediocre in the least bit, an extreme nuetral,
even, at times. Well, I hate to say this because it goes against just
about anything that will help the position, but I haven't fallen out
of love with you yet, even though you left me. I wonder how long it
will last until I can look at the female population without this
feeling of shame that I am betraying you. All year, maybe. Perhaps a
little shorter, perhaps a little longer. This length of time is my
goal. That gives me a stressfilled school-year to smack myself out of
this mode of amorism (I amn't sure of the validity of that word) I
have found myself in. You are still my one and only, for the time
being and I won't even let my hormones make me release pressure until
I have everything cleared up. For some reason this seems to be a
calling to me. I don't know why, but I believe that it may help.
Sarah McArthur, first love of my life, may the men of your future be
more fulfilling than I and may ye find peace with yourself in all
things. If you have kids, tell them about me? (Crying at this point,
for no reason) Don't go through too much pain having your children.
Just don't because it isn't right. I feel proud of myself, Sarah,
dearest. I haven't done anything that I know the normal society would
frown upon in a great while. This means that I have not passed out,
holding my breath and I haven't beaten myself to the point I laugh (if
you did it, you'd understand, you just can't force yourself to hit
your face any more, for it hurts too much, and it is ironic and very
funny) I love you Sarah, I love you, I love you, I love you, goodbye,
I can't possibly go to homecoming, so I hope that Erin gets herself
some other date in order to replace my absence. Also, you are entitled
to be enangered every now and then. If you become angry that I quit
out on homecoming, I want you to call me right up and get it all out
on me so that you don't spread any of the poison to anyone else in
your life. Say hello and goodbye to your family for me? And your cat?
Tell a knock-knock joke through your intercom system for me (I've
ALWAYS wanted to do this, you see).

Don't get sick of listening to it or seeing it: I love you; EGO TE AMO,
[I realized that this seems to be a good font for Latin, at least in
gmail it is]
Your devoted, depressed, deprived, decheveled, decieved, delicous
(hehe) John of the Samos family

P.S. - I hope to see you around and I'm here if you need help or want
help with homework or something. Any way that I could offer assistance
to you would result only in my pleasure, and there is no arguing with
that statement. I love you and g'night (12:00ish when I am writing
this) :-*

[apotheosis]

Fuck hyou guys post to many god damn words that I do not feel like reading. It is hard enough to concentrate so that the computer screen stays still than to let alone try and understande the wordy incohrerrent bullshit that has been written together.

Anyway, my comment(s) on what you said is this:

I think that love is a fickle thing that may not even be real and the mere act of obsvering it may very well destroy it so don't expect the impssobel but seriously stop bitching abotu what oculd have been and move forward and try to obtain what can be and what still is. Anything else is wasting your time. No arch angel is going to save you from the pit of despiar you have dug yourself.


fuck I need to stop trying to empty kegs single handedly.