My darlings, please continue sending me your lovely e-mails, they are the hallucinatory drugs I run on for the moment. If only they were real letters so I could drown in them, what a glorious suicide it would be. Printing them on paper and getting ink stains on my light colored clothes just doesn't give that same romantic effect.
It's a glorious night by the way, so quiet and calm. I should only sleep when the sun is up.