dear world, you are awesome: two postcards

Dear World,
I have found a nice storage locker for my self. Details are, let’s just say, fuzzy: strobing, traumatized, subjective, slurring, radically unpleasant. A kind of amber womb. Sheets like ski runs. Oopsy-daisy. I appear to be on a floor of some kind. In a last flicker of decency, I have wound up here rather than driving 100 miles to visit a friend, as promised, because I knew I was endangering people. I will call tomorrow and lie.

Dear World,
You are awesome. I am sitting with friends of mine, in lounge chairs outside our rooms. We are spending a weekend in a town in the Midwest. We do this every year. We seek grottos, lonely private sculpture gardens, places where we can hide messages in Tupperware containers, abandoned buildings, houses which have been crashed into by rocks and turned into tourist attractions, breakfast joints, odd intersections and dead-ends, churches, supper clubs, stories of locust invasions, grave sites, the rumored location of the Garden of Eden, and museums filled with phones, antique soaps, 19th century medical scenes, or polish crafts.

-Kevin Fenton of St Paul, MN
http://unprintableversion.typepad.com/