Monday February 05th 2007, 3:08 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

To my little house sitter,

Today was move in day at my new apartment, which isnít really an apartment, but rather a house that was converted into a triplex complex. Brianna, my flat mate, is an aerial specialist from San Francisco; however she is also a fire dancer. She needs two more elements to complete the scrosickg chart of elements, but I doubt she will be able to conquer Earth and Water as she has conquered Fire and Air. Brianna is 28 years old and has been living in Los Angeles for two years now. Sheís very sweet, though I canít seem to see her and I spending much time together. We spoke about pulling up the carpet in the hallway and my bedroom, as well we have talked of painting the interior of the house vivid colors, unlike whatís on the walls now, which is a speckled sand and white atrocity. All of the boxes have been moved into their proper planes, yet Iím hesitant to unpack my things for a few reasons: I donít have any furniture to place my objects on; I donít want to unpack my possessions if we are going to paint the walls in the distant future; I just donít feel like working anymore today. The box moving has exhausted me; the heat has destroyed my will to work. Summers in Los Angeles can be very trying, in terms of how lethargic the heat can make you. My stomach is yelling at me to feed its ever-consuming vacuum, but I think Iíll hold off from eating just a little longer. My neighbors in the triplex are very kind and offered me a portion of their BBQ as soon as I arrived to the house. They have a pit bull named ďTia,Ē who is two years old and the sweetest pit Iíve ever met. Brianna has two kittens whose names are Quela andÖ fuck, I canít remember the other catís names. Today is the fourth of July, which means Los Angeles, will light its skies with flaming explosions of red, white and blue fireworks. Iíve never enjoyed the Fourth of Julys that Iíve spent in Los Angles. Five years ago I got into a car accident while returning from watching the fireworks display in Marina Del Ray. The year after that, I was continually hit on by a co-worker from my job at Borders Bookstore, which would have been nice, if it were a female employee; though it didnít surprise me that he wanted to gobble my cock, considering that whole year of my life I was hit on by more men than hit on by women. Though I digress, you are housesitting this Fourth of July at some mansion in San Francisco. The fridge is stocked with beer and wine, and the Jacuzzi will be a nice relaxing atmosphere for you and your friends. And even though I may sound sweet and caring regarding you and your Fourth of July party, inside I feel jealousy, anger and depression. However, I wonít let those darker emotions ruin this Fourth of July. Tonight I will see my friend Erin, most likely drink and then hopefully find a place to crash. I wonít be staying at my new place in Highland Park tonight because I donít have a bed yet. Tomorrow I am going to try to attend an open interview session at a painting school, however I donít feel prepared or qualified for the position. I stare into blank canvases thinking only about my own wicked sadness. Therefore, if I canít paint, how the fuck can I expect to teach painting? Well, sorry to sound like a self-loathing asshole, but thatís how Iím feeling right nowĖ that and Iím fucking hungry. I think Iíll go eat now. Happy Jacuzzi madness, my cause of jealousy.

A lost Angel.

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