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Tuesday August 08th 2006, 9:29 am
Filed under: All Letters,Hate Letters

You,

I awoke shivering and tremulous, my hands could hardly function. Last night I went to sleep as early as I could. I didnít trust myself to be anywhere but in bed. That picture is burned on the back of my retinas. Even when I close my eyes, it shines vividly, as if I were forced to watch the most horrific of movies all night. I had no rest last night. The more I thought of it, the more pain I was in. And there was no off-button in this ordeal. I couldnít stop itó I could only masochistically suffer. Why does your image bother me so much? I feel like Iíve relapsed back into the first moments of our break up. The whole architecture of my sanity has collapsed beneath me once again. When you told me you fucked Justin, that didnít nearly affect me as much as those photos of you online. I wonder if it has something to do with the public nature of your display. Possibly, I feel that those photos should have stayed private, and especially out of my mindís eye. The power of a photo is merciless. Fuck, Iím an artist; I should have known this from the beginning. We humans understand the world as an image. From Television to movies to billiards to (most of all) the Internet, the world has flattened into a virtual screen of drying cement. But Iím sick of re-learning who you are through photos and bios. Iím quitting Myspace and Friendster. The temptation to look at you is too great, and it only causes me more pain and misery. You, are the cause of my instability. But Iím also sick of blaming you for shit that I can control. So, Iíll work on getting myself out of this insane position, while youíll keep doing what youíre doing without caring at all about me. Fuck you. Youíre not the woman I married. Soon your powers will be have no effect on me, as mine are defenseless against you.

With insane thoughts,

Chris

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