debrajean

All I do here is write and play guitar. It's fantastic, a dream come true. Complete and total focus on the important things in life. I think I will begin a short story after I'm done with this letter. I don't know if it will turn out, I've never tried to write one before. The only social outlet that I have here is sending letters to my friends, this is changing the way that I write. It's become a fluid thing almost like talking, but without the stutter.
It's been snowing the past week, turing the urban sprawl into a pastoral paradise. At night the sky is the color of the bruises on your knees you wake up with after a night of drinking. People sit on there front porches laughing, making delicate sounds instead of the usual strident crap, as if they are afraid there words will freeze, showing them how ugly they really are.
I hope things are going well for you, I think of you fondly.