To my darling Daisy, It has been far too long since I last wrote to you. I should let you know that I will be returning from the war soon. I apologize that it has not been sooner for my return. I had some things come up that required me to stay in Europe for a while longer. While I have been gone, I have not stopped thinking of you. I look forward to the day we continue our lives together. I want nothing more than to be able to spend the rest of my afternoons with you in my arms. We will finally be able to start our lives together, just you and me. I shall get back to my studies now however. Until I see you again, with love, Jay Gatsby

can do so I would rather you would come with the if you could make it convient it is with diferculty in geting off with out wite person tell my wife and people all howdy for me I would like to see them all. also you you all Master I give you my best wishes. your servent Thomas

Dear Master and Mistress, I will send you a few lines to inform you I am not well but I still get along building stockades. Master I have the cronict dirhea and cannot get rid of it unless I could change climate to water If you please will you send another Boy in my place I don’t think we will get dun with stockaids under two months so I wish you could relief me if you can do so I would rather you would come with the [?] if you could make it convient it is with diferculty in geting off with out wite person tell my wife and people all howdy for me I would like to see them all. also you you all Master I give you my best wishes. [So honore?] your servent Thomas

Dearly beloved Prue, I hope your morning is fine, as it isn't so much here. The skies are dreary and grey, dark clouds are heavy, ready to pour droplets of sorrow, like the tears of the nurses gathered at the memorial of our lost soldiers last friday. It was tragic when we lost the captain, he was truly a good man. We all blame each other, not pointing fingers at anyone, but as a team we have failed him. He died about two in the morning, got ambushed, didn't know there were enemies ahead of us, completely unaware as it was still dark. Oh Prue, if only we were ever more so attentive, I remember it so vividly, Thomas and I were against the trench walls reloading our equipment, our legs halfway coated in the mud they sank slightly. It was pouring and we were surrounded by complete darkness as well as oblivion. I couldn't hear anything, the sound of the heavy rain were pounding like bullets, ironically soon enough, gunshots were heard. I choose not to continue, as I will surely discomfort you dearest. I send my sincere apologies as I can't be there with you on St Valentines, but please do pray for me as everyday is a struggle,I will cherish you in my heart always.

To dearest Grandma, I was just wanting to write to you to tell you how much I love you. You mean the world to me and I treasure you deep within my heart. Your ongoing generosity, love, kindness and selflessness towards me and the other grandchildren is so beautiful and something I hope to love by when I become a grandparent! I love you so much and always will. All my love, your granddaughter Liana

    

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. -H. Jackson Brown Jr.

What a night! What a night, Yesterday was! I can’t even begin to digest the events of last night. Stanley had poker night with his friends last night. What a ruckus that caused! However something good did come from it, I met a wonderful man last night. He was kind, caring, sensitive and he was different from the other men in this town. He was - superior to the others. He even had reverence for Mrs Browning. I had the most wonderful time with him. However that brutish Stanley ruined that night. Drunk like a cavemen, he had the indecency to raise his hand to my Sister who is pregnant with his child! What a man! I have never seen a man that has such a lack of class! Violence like that just makes me sick. My poor sister, she deserves better than that! I need to call Shep Hutleigh to help her out of this dire situation that she has found herself in!

I have just settled in with Stella in Elysian Fields. She has very so graciously opened her home to accommodate me. My darling sister has always been so kind to me, that I regret that I cant do anything about the dire situation that she is in. She has chosen to marry a common man. A common man who used to be a Master Sergeant in the Engineers’ Corps. She has the decorations that he got on display. All that brass probably just blinded her, to make this rather unwise decision. She has made such an irrational decision. It is such a pity to see my little star for a sister suffers in a place like this. After being raised in Belle Reeve with our honourable upbringing, She is a place that only Poe can do justice! I cannot imagine she is happy living in such a place! I am truly upset that she did not reach out to me and tell me that she is living in such conditions!

I have just settled in with Stella who has graciously opened her home to accommodate me. My darling sister has always been so kind to me, that I regret that I cant do anything about the dire situation that she is in. She has chosen to marry a common man who used to be a Master Sergeant in the Engineers’ Corps. She has the decorations that he got on display. All the brass probably blinded her, to make this rather unwise decision. It is such a pity to see my little star for a sister suffers in a place like this. After being raised in Belle Reeve with our honourable upbringing, She is a place that only Poe can do justice! I cannot imagine she is happy living in such a place! I am truly upset that she did not reach out to me, that she is living in such conditions!

Thank u sooo much for being my Mom . If i had a different Mom I would punch her in the face and go find you

Dearest Isaiah, Jubilation was felt at the receipt of your letter. Your heartfelt words were well received. I only wish that I could have been able to read it all, however, will request you read your dear letter to me when we are again in each other's company. I do hope this will be sooner than later, as I have grown accustom to seeing you every four weeks or so. I do pray for God's love and guidance in our lives, as we continue this journey of fellowship that grows deeper by the day. I have the most exquisite thoughts when remembering all the times we've spent together. I am especially fond of our first meeting at Park Point Beach in Duluth, and Christmas at your parents in Wisconsin. The feelings of warmth were overwhelming and for this I am thankful. Yours in a loving fellowship in Christ Our God,

Dearest Antonela, I received your most recent communication by domesticated vulture fat-bellied with the carrion of some nameless politician and I must say you are absolutely correct when mentioning the de-voiding sense of our past communications torn as they were from our frantic and fantastic deviations to highlight our agreeance on certain if not all subject matter. I have thought and feared for sometime that the lost art of letter writing is in fact just that, a lost art, and that in our hi-tech-low-life struggle against the machines that control us we have perhaps sacrificed a portion of our intellect and most certainly our creativity by relying on the robots slaves of our entertainment and sexual enjoyment to, for a large portion, dictate our letters for us. I will attempt here, in this quandary to be clear so that we may reach an affiliation of understanding. you see in the past, the past before the past that was recently the present and was once the future until we surpassed it, we used to all sit in the glow of an ornate oil lamp and dip a quill into ink to lay to paper. This of course had merit and if nothing else forced us to consider carefully each word, domesticated us into learning the true meaning of words to offer a means to meaning and made us conscious of our penmanship, a self education if you will. When we needed to communicate over distance we would have to think goddamn it! To sit alone and understand and grasp of our own language to express ourselves fully and in the most comprehensive way. Now however it is all LOL and LMFAO and AA (adios amigo) and the like, a very perversion of the King's English and a bastardization of our skills in literacy and as I'm sure you're probably already aware the level of literate capability in our youth, not yours and mine youth that would be preposterous ha ha our youth, phew, dodged that bullet, oh, am I really writing this or just thinking it am I... harrumph, yes as I was saying, youth, the youth are stupid or some such thing. I'm afraid my thoughts have become rather jangled for reasons I'd prefer not to divulge here as I'm suspicious my warden has been opening my letters before sending them, that fucking shit sucking swine, but never fear my dear I have been fashioning a crude dagger from the bones of a rat I cornered and have been tirelessly sharpening it on the concrete floor of my cell so that brute will have his day, yes the fat is in the fire now and I will smile my haunting smile into his beady little eyes as his lights go out and I twist this weapon into his gizzards until he squeals like a watery eyed girl-child and defecates his pantaloons. yes, enough of that, I will lean back from this dastardly quill now and light my pipe while I wait for my medication to take effect and aid my communication with you. okay, that's that. To address one of your recent concerns no I was not 'high' as you so abruptly put it in your fine style of penmanship. However the thought of the possibility did cross my mind. These are strange days and more so now that we freaks in the wilderness have acquired (through shady deals to our personal black marketers) each others addresses and begun these savage communications. But they are needed, yes, they are something tangible in a world of puppet people gone wrong with madness. all parts of my previous letter to you was in fact true as I reserve the fiction for my stories that currently I'm excited to tell you are paying 5 (five) cents per million words so by Jove and spank the native maid I'm excited to tell you it will be positively no time now before I will be able to take a steamer on a trip across the Atlantic to study the migration patterns of leopard jellyfish. Yes goddamn it I am being facetious, bitter and cynical just as I am of this whole writing game and it's dastardly... ha ha enough of that! I fear my metabolic drip tube had detached from my arm severing my supply of drip bag Martini cocktail from my veins momentarily and this had dire effects on my temper. I apologize a many thank you's as the King of Siam used to say to me on our many hunting expeditions into the great unknown but that is another story... Where were we my topaz slow-rider, oh yes, the last communication, indeed... all true. and in fact to go further I have never tried psilocin mushrooms in the company of people but most Saturday nights in THEOLDDAYS would find me in my writing studio with cold beer, warm scotch, traditional Japanese pipe music playing in the cast glow of oil lamps sipped hallucinatory mushroom tea and working on that horrible typewriter to get a different perspective of The Word (also true). These were very good and strange times and during them Michael Jackson appeared to me in white gloves to tell me he was going to die, of course that was perhaps a week before his actual death and never a stronger prophecy or joy has risen in me since. That was possibly the same night my typewriter turned into a lizard and produced some very good work indeed or possibly it was not. Regarding your inquiry of my use of Jack Kerouac's name in correspondence it is simply a reworked colloquialism I use something like, step back jack. You may enjoy this picturegraph presentation from the height of his career, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzCF6hgEfto unrehearsed and he waited in a bar across the street until 1 minute before filming much to the dismay of Steve Allan that incorrigible little shit. What I feel towards voodoo isn't really an obsession but a mere understanding that it is an effective practice to 'getting things done' however to define what those 'things' are would only be problematic here. Yes, you're absolutely right damn it! I was a glutton and a fool to ask for everything from you but although these are new communications there is a freedom and ease at which they rise within me that make them feel older than they are and thus I sometimes get confused, even when the drip tube is sufficiently screwed down in my arm, at the length of time we have actually known of one another and this further fuels my dreaded confusion of how little I know of you. but I must remember to relax and take my medication, which I have plenty of, ha ha good show old boy you dandy devil, and I must remember first and fore mostly that quantum physics tell us Time only runs in one direction so that while I positively have not known you in the past I know you somewhat in the present and it is with much delight and a sometimes dangerous happiness I celebrate the idea, although be it merely a concept at the present, of knowing you greater in the future. Oh! My Irish wolfhound is shaking my drip bag in its gums, I had its teeth removed of course, so I must sign off hastily and try to redeem my present state of suave by sucking the last of my cocktail from the cigarette singed shag pile carpet fiber like the good old boy I am. Yes, the weird live here but they are not the people I'm concerned about or afraid of, it's the others that make me nervous. Ce sera sera then. And a good day to you fine child. Yours sincerely Doctor Jonah MDA, PCP, NIN

saasdas asdasda asdasda sadasdas safffsa sfasfsaf asfsafasfsa afssfafs asfaffsafs

Entreat me not to leave thee, Or return from following after thee—for whither thou goest, I will go, And where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me

Baby, Loving you has showed me the world in a new light. I know now how it feels to love someone to the extent of madness and loving someone in a way that surpasses most expectations that one holds for being loved. I feel like you are a part of me now and that love that flows through my heart for you surpasses every other emotion that I have ever felt for anyone. In your arms I find the comfort and security that I have always sought and I am so glad that I have finally managed to find you. The love and affection that you showed me is almost incomparable and I know now that all my life you were that one thing that was missing. I have you with me now and I know that I never want to let you go. I always keep going back to the memories, the times that we spent together when we had just met. You put a smile on my face. You always have, that was the first thing that I fell in love with. Even after these last four years, you continue to be my one and only, that says something. I've been blessed to have the true love of my life by my side all this while and I hope and pray that it continues to be so. I love you more that words will ever be able to express. Only yours forever, Marta

Dearest Sara, You are hereby invited to a wonderful night of thrills and mystery at the masquerade. What masquerade, you ask? Why, only the most exciting murder mystery around! Be on your guard; you never know who you can trust! With Love, and Merry Christmas! -Ryan

Dearest Bridie and Paddy, You shall both be in attendance of Keith Barry's "Brain Hacker" in the Radisson in Sligo on the 5th of May, which falls on a Friday. Please find attached confirmation of tickets which shall arrive in due course, in case you don't believe me. Seasons Greetings, Claire x

April 28, 1930 Atticus Finch, Thank you for staying with Tom Robinson throughout the whole ordeal that we suffered through. You have definitely taken a step up from everyone else by saying Tom, a black man, is innocent. Sincerely, John Taylor

Dear Netito, Hello my little friend! I'm writing this letter in english because Chipi or Chipilais Gomez like you named him told me you got a 102 on your spelling test! CONGRATULATIONS! keep practicing you are doing great! Santa is VERY proud! HOHOHO! Ernesto you are not trying your best to stay in the Nice list, are you? Are you keeping your room snow-shinny clean? Make sure you are not like the elves here in the North Pole! they ALWAYS have a MESS! Even Rudolph and the other reindeers do a better job! They are driving me CRAZY or maybe i should stop giving them hot coco before bed.. HOHOHO! Oh well! I wrote you this letter just to remind you that Chipilais Gomez it giving me ALL the information EVERY SINGLE DETAIL! and what you didn't know it that i sent another elf to place a secret camera in your classroom at St. Johns so now i can really know if you deserve to stay in the nice list okay Netito? I know you are a really good boy, every boy is they just sometimes forget it, but not you, right Netito? Alrighty then! i will see you in 8 very important days for me because i still have so much to do and the elves are just eating cookies and dancing to jingle bells when they are suppose to be making that X-Box you said you wanted..HOHOHO! Be good Netito! I am ALWAYS watching! Sincerely, Mr. Santa Claus P.S. Two more things: 1) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Can i have some OREOS for christmas? Mrs. Caluse has been having me on a HORRIBLE diet! even the reindeers eat better than I do! It would be so nice of you! Okay and 2) How about if you give me a call sometime? I don't usually give my number to all the boys and girls around the world but sometimes when i feel like someone is very very special i do.. so here's my number (951)-262-3062! HOHOHO! Have a very jolly Christmas Netito! and say hi to Rocio, Valeria and Camila!

February 17, 1833 Dear Father, I have survived the voyage to America and soon hope to establish myself on my own plantation. With the recent passage of the Indian Removal Act by President Andrew Jackson, land in the southern states is expected to become available at very reasonable prices as the Indian tribes are moved out to Western lands. Love, James

thank you for being the most wonderful man i have ever known... i love you wth all my heart and i always will

I have great news! I heard you were looking for work and I have the perfect thing for a man of your talents. There have been some recent events over here in Frostgard that raise some concerns as to the continuing survival of the town. Recently the raids from the nearby clans have been increasingly brave, and shambling hordes of undead have been spotted on the roads. There are several rich interested people of importance over here in Frostgard that would be delighted to compensate those aiding against these dangers. The empire is... not well known for their compentency in handling these matters, and they're stretched thin enough with the war on Etruria. I offer you a warm bed at my hearth in Frostgard as I promised your mother I would look out for you.

I remember that day like it just happened. If I were to mention one memory that sustains me when I doubt in the existence of what we all call love I would choose this one. I could only sit by the window back then and watch him play. I couldn't move, nor speak. There was no reason to speak. If there was anything dignified enough to break the silence it was his playing. Raindrops kept hitting the window, adding this unique vibe to everything that was happening. I closed my eyes to see him even better and let the music surround me. Much as he was talented, he was most of all gentle. In every move he made with his fingers across the keyboard, you could feel such strength and years of practice, which were so cleverly and delicately hidden behind his subtlety. I was mesmerized. In a way I wished that moment would never finish, knowing at the same time that its transience was what made it beautiful. It was the reason I already knew back then I would never forget about him. He wasn't magical. He was magic. Now that I think about that unusually warm December evening, I can tell you that it changed me. I can't explain how, or which part of me he changed but he did. And sometimes when I close my eyes, I still smile.. Hearing those sounds, hearing the music of my inspiration in my head. And such moments are why I will never forget about him, just because of the way he was able to affect me without saying anything, but simply doing what he loved…

llll

Dear Mariya, My protector, my inspiration, my superhero… that’s how I’ve grown up marveling at how amazing you are; this letter from me is to tell you how much I love you. Growing up, we never really got along, those fights with you that were no less than wars … It’s funny how I now realize that the one I fought with day and night was my Angel in disguise, someone who could fight the whole world for my happiness. It was never surprising for me to stop crying and rest peacefully in your lap after a bad day. The countless unsaid sacrifices that you’ve made for me, and the innumerable times you’ve made me smile, Mariya you are like a rainbow filling colors in my life! :* If there is one place that I’ve kept all my secrets, strengths and weaknesses safely, that’s in your heart. You are the first one to know of my success, and the first one to hold me firm in my failure. Like my superhero you’ve come to my rescue even before I could actually ask <3 No wonder I’ve spent my whole life copying you… from the way you dress to the way you talk, you have no idea how much a “Wannabe Mariya” I’ve been all my life ^.^ Watching scary movies squeezing your arm, sneaking out for pizzas, experimenting in the kitchen, teaming up against ma and papa, and then fighting over to who ma and papa love more… I can’t think of a single thing in my life that didn’t have YOU <3 Thank you so much for making my life how wonderful it is! If there is someone who truly knows me and accepts me despite knowing me, then that would be you sister. HAPPY BIRTHDAY...!!! <3

For you the "Purest heart" Rapunzel"... My yesterday's conversation coerced me to write this piece for you. Entirely dedicated to you just to let you know, how much I admire you for the kind of person you are. Blessed with so much of internal beauty by the grace of almighty, sensitive but at the same time a "fighter", drowned in her own virtual world however explorative in real world milieu. Darling, don't get yourself affected by the so-called "Narrow minded" perception of people on this planet by their vague understanding on "women hood". For them a women is just a matter of face and body, but for the people who are thriving beyond this " Narrow mindedness and the socially constructed belief system" can only figure it out who you actually are i.e. "The Purest Heart". Don't expect that some insensitive people either knowingly or unconsciously would come up with some extraordinary thoughtful discourse and would perceive you as the benevolent being that you are in actual. But they will judge you according to their definition of being beautiful. Their very definition of looking at women is confined to the colour of her skin and facial structure. Always keep in mind that you are also surrounded by some gems, awakened species who purely believe in simplicity of your smile, pureness in your thoughts and your beautiful big Rapunzely-hairs. It is the height-ness of thoughts which matters, not the physical height of the body. There are gems, so called deviants of this societal system, who are sensitive enough and pursue every being as God's Creation.

IT's that special

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