Several recent contacts from my past, those, in fact ,who have travelled over that edge we find ourselves trembling before even as we brace for its approach, have resulted in a flare up of letters, mostly postcards, dispatched to points far and wide, mostly unknown, not expecting replies, or even that they reach their destination. Their intended recipients need not read them. Their primary intent, to simply be written, and shared here, although most of them won't even get that. About the only assurance I can give is that their posting will not be in order of date written or sent. In readying them for the reader here, I've chosen to go with the order in which I find them most pertinent or amusing to myself.; subject matter being the guiding principle.
I'll wash the correspondence clean, as well as I can to start with, of their identifies(although persons will be named, I doubt the reader would be familiar with them anyway, and since the addressed won't be expected to read theses missives, I won't care much to protect their good and bad names), and try to avoid boring the reader with details of random personal stuff.
I intend, and have ready, to begin with a few short essayic letters addressed to the same friend from my middle school years that speak of the elections now in season. Certain candidates, mostly issues, arguments for and against and lamentations on my increasing political isolation.
Whether or not I'll post any of the received letters, I'll decide later. Some bear a little fun; most merely rail demented complaints. Some inclusion might be called for, come to think of it, in order to show why I seem to take such a pissed attitude. I prefer to drink and listen to weird music. These letters aren't entirely my fault, and I don't want to post them just as a defense, but I think they might sound like that exactly. Let them then.