Gilled Yet

Dear @Sherzod

Imagine if you would please. This a handwritten (analog?) letter. Arriving at/in your addresses or P. O. box approximately a week give or take a day or two from now.

In not well practiced cursive aka longhand. Ebony ink smudges from the ridiculous fountain pen my ego has me wheeling. Absolutely riddling the quality stock I chose. Or rather had on hand to respond to your challenge. That you may or may not even remember as surely you’ve moved onto whatever’s next by now. Damn is my hand cramping up.

This is torture. Could you imaging weighing in on everything this way? Writing a whole book this way. Blessings be to Gothenburg. All authors factual or fictitious should pray and give thanks for the man who originally made our passion. A profession monetarily viable if one do choose.

So you may of learned by word of mouth. Or if by luck still in possession of an AM/FM radio. You found out that way. That the internet regretfully will be down for a whole day. So if you haven’t plastered your imagination with carnal thoughts and desires.? Masturbation might not be in cards today for once. Posting bigoted/racist/homophobic/ignorant/incomprehensible/ humorless puns/political rants/social media dancing around everything tweets will have to wait till tomorrow. Then destroying any respect left for your public image can be made complete. Only then the sorrow truly wished for can follow. Pity parties are better than nothing one could argue. But how will Someone invite guest. By physical stamped post? Gross I guess I’ll be hanging out by myself. As these invites are sure to leave me ghosted.

P,S. No spell check my grammars a wreck.

Get acquainted with my failure to detect these. Ram it down my throat. Every bitter pill I deserve. Make me take note of. In the hopes I do better come next time the internet mega bites the dust.