Dear Humphrey


I have a diving suit in the basement you can use. I have been meaning to show you. Actually I tried it once and went into the water. There may be problems with the oil now, but you have to try it to be sure. 

It is more real than the past. Maybe you have a special power, but I cannot re-experience my memories as well as I would like. I don't believe anything can be replicated. Does this make the diving suit light or heavy? 

If you go in to the black water, you will see yourself. It will be like the Christmas party. You will realize how terrible it is to be pure, to be independent, to be the ideal American. 

Pick up some of those white crabs, while you're at it. I can cook it into a stew, and you can have it. I'll bring it to the office. Things far away taste different. I have never seen a jellyfish. More and more I feel that life is becoming mythical.

A--I told you I am not good at keeping in touch. I have a hard time with the imagination. So it is hard for me to keep in touch because it is so figurative, the keeping and the touching. 

Things here are okay. Everybody is making a fuss about you, which is why I remembered today to write. You are really becoming more tangible. You are becoming so many different people and different things. I haven't seen the movie, but I am sure it will disappoint me. 

I am afraid that connection is vital. It is like how I have always known that looking at veins and tangles and the way fungus grows. Getting a degree in hermitage may be the thing that ruins me. But what I don't understand is how to decide on anything. What makes life force valuable, for example? Why should I value my existence just because I'm stuck in it? I never asked to be. I couldn't have. I am a root in a mass of roots. But now that I know I am a root I can't go on. If I see myself I grow transparent. 

I can hear the singing from the mead hall even here in the cardboard mountains. I am destroying myself. It's not my fault. 

You should come back soon.