Funeral Letter -- Unicorn

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Date Posted: 21:24:19 03/23/04 Tue
Author: Gray Squirrel
Author Host/IP: 0-2pool17-33.nas49.stockton1.ca.us.da.qwest.net / 65.146.17.33
Subject: Funeral Letter

Funeral Letter

And I still miss John Lennon,
And Bob Dylan, and Leonard Cohen...
Though 2 of them are still alive...
But will they write this
Letter for me?

And John, I saw a white feather
Fall in front of me one day, but
I don't have Yoko's phone number,
Nor will I bother her...

I am no one out there, either,
But I have love.

Love...
Funny how it aches as a
Broken loneliness alone.

Maybe it isn't love, maybe
I am wrong and I have a
Disease...
I know a doctor who'd
Always cure me though...
Who's gone.

I'll keep you guessing.

The pressure sometimes kills me,
And they carry my casket beneath
Windy trees, and black soot
Scarves wave from the necks of
Strangers who came to see me.

Why would strangers come to see me?

Or I cry in condescending real life,
In PUBLIC.

Today though, this letter is about this:
(Though I wish it weren't...)
I felt a real relief, today... Really!
It lasted a few hours...

I didn't know I could!

And I didn't care if people
Saw me cry before that,
And didn't care that they will still
Want to call me jackass names
Right now.

It was a real relief.
Yeah I said that.
Who am I writing this for?
Strangers.

Stranger is a relative thing,
And not just 2 degrees,
Nor 7 or 11, or 99...
I always feel the need to point
Out that no numbers work
When they don't, because
I can't seem to get much of
Anyone to ever realize that.

It's an analog thing, 'stranger'ness, and nonlinear....
But we get to pick a mark,
Where it stops, I guess, to
"Grow up."
But that's a fucked up notion, too,
A sales pitch for lazy, greedy,
Selfish generalizing windbags.

Are we free yet?

Name-calling people...
Ha, ha... it always
Gets me when I use
That name for people...
I called people "name-calling ."
Ha...
Anyway.

See who I just reminded you of?
I'm not them.
I'm not anyone.

When I listen to Bob Dylan,
And someone says I am
Stuck in the '60's or something,
I think, well, you're stuck in the 1830's,
Though I haven't researched the
Exact dates...

I could've researched them before I wrote that part,
Or I could've thought of some other thing about them,
And thought, ha! You're in the 1600's!
Or, Ha Ha Ha! You're stuck in year 0-0-20!!!!

I could have, and that would've been
More logical than they were,
But still so very ridiculous.
Sigh...

Strangers.

I have some old letters from strangers,
Strangers I could've called friends,
I guess, though they'll
Never change.
Some I've loved.

Really, I have no problem
Calling them strangers,
I draw my line better,
I like to feel like someone
KNOWS me, you know?
Knows me first.
Really.

Or there is this coworker who talks to me,
And she is married, and happy, I guess,
And she says to me... so, how about
Estela, then? And I say, Estela may as well
Be married to Sam, though he is in
Jail right now, and there are all those kids of
Theirs, and I know she loves him.

And Estela does.
I could love Estela, though...
Once I saw her face light up
Like even a child can't do...
And she has the most
Incredible eyes, and skin...
Her skin or eyes could
Interest me for many years,
Or her voice, or some other things...

Or not, whatever, doesn't matter.
I love Stella, I guess... and I draw that line
Somewhere, too.
Most people, I don't know where
They draw it...
She knows I do, love her,
But it's sort of a joke.

I don't want to ruin people's lives.

Like Erica, the coworker...
She is married to Paul, who is
A very sweet man, and they
Seem very sweet together,
And they love each other...

Stella once said that she thought
Before Erica was married,
That she and I would make a cute couple.

(Pause here for more names to come,
Please practice pausing... to figure it out.)

I guess I love Erica as a friend,
And she and Paul seem like strangers,
Unfortunately.

But less than me.
I am a greater stranger,
From their perspective,
Which is part of mine.

Ok, says Erica, I'm right,
Not Estela, what about
April, she's single...
And I say April is way
Too young for me,
Or, no, I am too old...

Or maybe I said it the other way around.
But I love April too,
She is extremely clever and
Her own unique
Unappreciation* is terribly attractive.

(I am ugly... Quasimodo...)

Oh, and she is about the cutest (young) person I have seen.
I mean, I could say that and mean it,
And only worry about explaining that
A little to... well, there is magic,
I'll try to get to that.

She likes me too,
And I had some dreams with her
Playing important roles.
Not what you think,
But whatever...
This is already a long letter.

And I had a few more nights of dreams,
And today she is talking about Chuck,
And Chuck's brother TJ,
And it was clear that her
Boyfriend Chuck and she (her?)
Are mainly happy strangers, too,
Ready for surprises.

Of course, today is too late for
The other day's conversation with
Erica to finish...
Though I've done similar before,
Finishing former conversations,
Today I didn't, at least there.

I mean I didn't add: "Oh! ...and
Then there's Chuck," to
"Too young."

*Unappreciation?
I mean people don't credit her with
Near the wit and cleverness she
Deserves. I doubt
Anyone does, or ever will.

Something I find attractive.

Strange me.

So, not April either.
And I spend a lot of these days
Thinking about people I have felt deep love for...
Others... and none would find it
Flattering, I'm sure, to be among many.

One person ("Cleo") once even told me, too,
About how that felt...
Though I thought somehow she might
Know me better than that,
Or I might not've mentioned it...

Or, I did mention it, as an example,
Preferring to focus on the fact
That she never knew me, anyway,
Nor ever wanted to.

She is a stranger...

And I saw a lot about Morsy today,
And I became a magician for a short while, too...
And I still don't know who
She thinks I am...
She thinks I'm somebody,
But never had the chance to tell me.

Spyder said something similar, once,
But she knows there are lots of pieces
To put together...
That makes me cry.

Mors popped up in unexpected places today,
And I explained them to Spyder, perhaps,
In my mind, and people thought I was
Talking to myself, and I'm sure I was...

And "Cleo" made a beautiful picture of
A sunset on a pyramid for me,
Though she doesn't know it...
And Adelaida said my name,
(Now she's married too.)

And Owl... Diana...
She loved me the most so far, of
Those I've mentioned... (I think.)
And I'm sorry the most....

I mean, I could probably tell her
This whole story,
And she would listen, and
It would break her heart again.

I can barely talk about her,
I will always love her...
And my hands are shaking.

No, some people get too little mention, ever.
She stopped me from loving ever again,
I will need other letters to explain that.
Poems, letters, love... strangers...
I mean... well... semantics. Sheesh.

She thought I was more than I am,
Then less, then more, then less...
And the reader thinks I think I am more than I think,
And the reader thinks I am wayyyyyyyy less...

Errrr... most readers... strangers...
I'll continue to mention that.

Should I add the fringes?
You may know who you are...
Strangers with guesses...
I know who you are...
And I love you, too...

Believe it or not.

I mean, I also have guesses, but
I draw different lines...

Different than anyone I know, at least.

I can't talk to everyone at once,
But I'm still trying...
I miss you John Lennon.

BUT ONE PERSON.

But there is this ONE love,
And this TERRIBLE ACHE,
And she is different, only, one.

And I REALLY MEANT goodbye this time.

But why this PHYSICAL ache????

And I held back the tears,
Though I still nearly cried my
Ugly old face off, today,
And coworkers Erica and... well
Whatever, think I am
OUT of MY FREAKING MIND.

They always do, but sometimes they are
Genuinely scared, because I am
Very strange to them all... and
STRANGE IS SCARY...

Like on TV and in the NEWSPAPER,
And on THE RADIO,
And in ALL THE WARNINGS ABOUT
SCARY PEOPLE THEY HAVE EVER HEARD
FROM errr.... their MAMA or WHOEVER>>>

Whatever... I'm not scary, I'm not dangerous...
But I am strange, and very sad.

So, I'm thinking about GOODBYE,
And I cry like it is her funeral...
Or mine, or both...
And WHY CAN'T I GRIEVE!?
Aren't I ALLOWED TO!?

And I try to go hide, and I do,
And I feel a relief for a few hours.

The magic?

Barbara..
(White Ferret... heh heh...)

Oh, she wasn't a stranger, ever.
Ever. Never.
Absolute.
The only ONE.

Not to me,
Not on this side of the line,
Meaning not I to her, either, as much,
I mean... relativity...
You know?

I miss you.
I remember you...
Always, here, right here.
Close.

-Gray Squirrel

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