Sunday, March 22, 2009


I was strolling through the yard of the **** Museum when I found your letter. I come here every once and a while to marvel at the persistence of that tree. As I don't own a pen I've written my reply with a stick in the sand on the shore.

I have an affinity for oaks in general, I keep an acorn on my desk and am reminded of the saying "Every majestic oak tree was once a nut who stood their ground." When I was a young child there was a period of about one year when my Mother brought me to see a psychiatrist. I forgot about this experience for many years and later when memories of it crossed my mind again and I asked my Mom about it I was told she wanted to know why I was different than other kids. I still don't understand why I'd want to be the same as everyone else. My clearest memories of those psychiatric visits were collecting the acorns at the edge of the driveway. I believe it's my stubborn idealism of the natural and the physical that has brought me here alone. Even if I did respond to a personals ad on Craigslist I fear I will be expected to spend too much of my time watching tv, or sipping drinks in some dank night club or some other popular form of entertainment that somehow eludes the simple pleasures which are ultimately all that really work for me. In a way visiting that tree is both a source of joy and consolation.

It's risky, before long the tide will come in and smooth away the rigidity of the thoughts I left behind. Nonetheless, I am confident the message will be found if need be. I don't think I have any other choice than to be optimistic, this is the only way I can write my wishes and have them still make sense to me. Should they disappear unnoticed I will have at least enjoyed casting them into the world. As I continue walking along th shore I'll keep my eyes open for new messages others have left around me.

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