Messages From Andromeda VI
(words of you)
11.16.98

Dearest Puck, how I dream of thee when I close my eyes. None so perfect, ever, as thee, my sweet. (comma abuse!) Thou art so much more human (in the way it was first meant) than any other I have yet known, and still, thou art more than even this. What dreams I have dreamed, what promises made! --- and I find that I have not been searching for a variant multitude of events, I have only searched for thee. I see the world, now, so much brighter and cleaner; I view its happenings with an objective interest I had not known before...! I find that I care more for certain humans, but only in the most abstract way -- like picking a favourite rat in an experiment or a favourite worker in an ant farm. Sometimes when the vision faileth me, I am filled with the desire to tear out my eyes, for I fear disillusionment were I to look upon thee from such a condition; yet somehow, I am never disillusioned by you. There is next to nothing you could do to make me want to love you less. There is nothing you could do to make me love you less. I should not want to try.
thou art my most blessed beautiful beast.

--c0demuse
Monday, 11.16.98
6:11 pm

Apartment Door