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Sunday August 06th 2006, 3:15 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

MRD,

Itís not very nice of you to haunt my dreams the way you do. This morning, I dreamt you still loved me, that you wanted to hold me and lay next to me. I immediately awoke from the dream terrified. It seemed so real, so warm to my senses, so close to happiness. Yet, like a child ripped from the womb, I was torn from this comfort and awoke to the cold lonely empty room in which I am writing this letter. Iíve been crying recently. Tears are annoying when itís windy outside. Last night I was out in the Mission. I befriended a junkie named Glaze. He was selling ďoutfitsĒ for a dollar. I didnít know what outfits were until he showed me. They are the unused syringe needles that heroin users buy. His business wasnít doing so well even though I think it is a some-what respectable profession. He wasnít selling any drugs to put in the outfits, just the needles. I asked him if he used as well, and he was honest with his reply, ďYup, but I do crack.Ē Iíve never bought crack before, so out of morbid curiosity, I asked him how much crack costs. He told me he could get a ďtenírĒ for seven dollars. I didnít know what a ďtenírĒ was, so I inquired further. I came to find out a ďtenírĒ is two hits of crack. In terms of the drug users and pushers on Mission Street, between 16th and 19th thereís smack, crack and needles. From 19th to 22nd you can get pot and powdered cocaine. Not that I would buy any drugs from those people. In fact, I donít even do drugs these days; but, for some reason, I found this information fascinating. Anyways, Iím going on and on about last night. Itís funny really, all the crack-heads and smacked out folk donít scare me at all. What scares me are my own dreams. Today I will meet with an old friend in your and my old neighborhood. Iím sure it will be awkward because I donít feel well today. I only wish you cared, like you did once before, like you did in my dream.

With thoughts and tears,

Chris

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