A.H.P. – 31:
On Sat, Apr 12, 2008 at 1:17 AM, Jane wrote:
Subject: Game over ‘A’ life
My efforts to initiate that long overdue private conversation have been thwarted by you several times. My hands are tied, you handcuffed me to CL (a vortex, btw). You don’t respond to my emails only to my posts (your friends or whoever else). And those responses come in so vast a variety of adoration and repulsion that I don’t know what to believe. I want heaven dear. I feel like I’m an illiterate peasant girl in the middle ages and you are a priest with a bible in hand asking me to pat tithes for my salvation. You have my email and my phone number, feel free to use either of those devices to your advantage. If can’t muster up the veneration to acknowledge me as a human being than I am quite content to not know you at all and to never speak to you again (as the case may be). Common courtesy is all I ask. If you don’t have any esteem for me that’s fine I just need you to be forthright. Clearly I need you to respond. Be it voyeurism or a test of adoration I don’t mind so much either way, but instead of hiding behind the enigma persona just come clean. You can be my friend. You can be my lover. You can be a client. You can be someone I used to know. But you need be honest at long last.
If you tasted my tears they would be salty a sweet (real tears). I’m a delicate flower, remember?
here’s the scene of today:
Buttercup: You mock my pain.
Westley: Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.
This is way out of control. There’s nothing to say. You keep trying to corner or bully me. You have acted a pushy bratty child. All this fictitious drama that you have attached to circumstances having nothing to do whatsoever with what you seem to think is simply put, strange. There was a litttle flirtation. NOTHING happened. It didn’t work at all. I tried to be friendly and you had to keep pushing. All this is your self fulfilling prophecy. You can tell whomever you so choose that I’m a “sociopath” but you really should stop projecting. It is apparent to others that I don’t seem to be the dangerous one. I regret thinking that you might be mature enough to handle some friendly flirtation. What should have been harmless and fun has become ridiculous and pathetic. Your “efforts” and “methods” to initiate a conversation have only succeeded in making that conversation unnecessary. I would like to have thought we could remain friends but I’m thinking that that may not be feasible. I wish the nice girl who cut my hair and smile a lot would return from neverland.
On Sun, Apr 13, 2008 at 11:39 AM, Jane wrote:
You are way out of control. You are also much to composed, gross. You can play your games, you can do as you choose, but you shouldn’t have played me out that way. You know nothing of my story. There is something to say. But you’re a coward in person so all this ‘fictitious’ drama. Call me what you may, it doesn’t affect me. You aren’t in a position to judge me at all. I will be who I am and I will do as I do. Point blank. Just because you designed this game doesn’t mean that you win. Use your charm (a short handed quality the way that you use it) and convince your ‘girlfriend’ and convince your friends and your coworkers and Kate (in case you really felt you needed to go there) that I’m ‘dangerous’ you insipid fool. Store up my text messages and emails and such (my picture) it doesn’t matter to me. I know you wanted me to go into APT (make a little scene) it serves your purpose. And I quiver and shake in physical appalment of your debasement. A little flirtation? Nothing happened? If all had happened the way that you say, some flirtation, a little interest, made out a little, wrong vibe, didn’t work. We would find ourselves in a different set of circumstances. You and I know the truth. You can’t berate me and then claim yourself ‘friendly’ its not that kind of party. Real life doesn’t subscribe to your turn of logic. You find me fictitious? I’m not Penelope, I am Kundra. You wrote me into the wrong fucking plot. It should have been a fable, but you fell short on any indication of useful truth. And your false air and your inflated pride. I remember every last detail, are you catching on to that? This alone is why I am your match, you however are not mine. My memory is photographic as well. I’m not just taking bait on your hook, although I am dancing your dance. You can underestimate me as much as you want. I have no shame in explicitly eliciting my sexuality. Your Voyeuristic tendencies could have been fulfilled in a different manner. I always ante up. I delight at the fact you couldn’t fuck me right anyway. You need to study a book to learn how to stick it. I celebrate my sexuality as it is a raw and carnal feast. If you were a dignified person and told the truth, I wouldn’t have cared and I wouldn’t have carried on. You still would have gotten your satisfaction. I would have been more than obliging in writing you eroticism, I would have given you more than I did. You could fuck your ‘girlfriend’ to the thought of my dripping loins until you both passed out from exhaustion. But right now I don’t want your friendship and I don’t want your love, no more fiction for me you aren’t a good writer. That sweet and innocent and trusting and naive girl is still smiling and always will. She just ain’t smiling for you and her twin sister is pissed. And your still posting on craigslist even as I write you goodbye. I wish you practiced what you preach instead of disgracing ancient text. You are so blind. You can meditate me away now.
p.s I think you need some sun
Date: Sun, 13 Apr 2008 14:42:33 -0400
Subject: Re: Game over ‘A’ life
Your insults are boring and childish. Games. There were no games. Your story. At a time I was curious, but after you made me relive the most painful parts I lost interest. Listen, I am sorry this devolved into so much “sturm and drang.” In all sincerity I wish you happiness and success. There is no smear campaign. I never mentioned your name to Gina. Not once. The truth is, however, something you choose to avoid in favor of your short stories. You are a brilliant writer. You should consider using that talent for the benefit of mankind rather than its destruction.