( fromUnkle Bill W BobChange)
I am writing you again from Normal Towne. I am living here again. Living, if you can call it that. The people in the library won’t leave me alone. I try to tell them to go away, but then I find I need something from them. To pose for a drawing, or for advice on a place to sleep that night, or just to bum a couple quarters for a bottle. Wombat Anton Rilson once said we should: “Be hard and relentless in creating a comprehensive list of vices and virtues. Consider the intensity, why and in what way they manifest, their cause and effect. Observe how they are connected, just like a system of nerves.” These folks at the library get on my nerves. But they are better than the bums over on campus corner.
I’ve felt different ever since that meeting with Ruben. Everything is different since that lecture you took me to in McCow Towne. The books I read call to me. The drawings from my Children’s Crusade move and dance on the page. There’s this voice that tells me about…hold on. The library people need my attention.
Where was I? Oh..Pass. I said I’ll pass. It’s not the booze talking. Let me take these pills.
Love and Sadness,