To Martha
December 13, 2004
Dearest love, my exams are killing me and I am growing a moustache. I want to surprise you with a new face, a sliver of black hiding lips that would kiss you. I secretly believe my moustache will give me the power to rhyme words.
Dearest love, I’m lonely without you. I’m discovering that the internet is an instrument of torture and love and that technology is pornography. In my hour of loneliness I can hear dogs barking in the darkness outside.
Dearest love, I’m reading the book you gave me on that night in August when I swam out into the lake and nearly died. “It’s a wonderful mess of revolutionary immigrants and orgasmic industrial settings,” you wrote on the cover. Your handwriting makes me shiver.
Dearest love, I want to give everyone ass for Christmas. I’m going crazy without you.
Posted by Tudor at 01:59 PM in Friends & Lovers | TrackBackWe need to see a photo of your ‘stache, Costache! Mr. Tudor Moustache!
Posted by: zed. on December 13, 2004 at 07:15 PMi wanna kick all those guys in the balls. i just had to offset the barfishness of this post
peace
Posted by: Visionary Indian Friend on December 13, 2004 at 09:31 PMHey Tudor,
Sorry to hear your exams are killing you! I really hope you survive!!
How did the pictures from the Santa Clause parade turn out? Also, do you have a hotmail email address? You don’t sound much a fan of technology but I want to add you to my MSN list :)
Erica
Posted by: Erica on December 14, 2004 at 04:08 AM