Yo, Steve. What da fuck, man?

Why do you do this to me?

I love your books. I have 99% of them and read 'em all the time, over and over.
Same with the movies of your books.

But...
"Insomnia".

Dude.
Why?

Every time I read that (goddamned/wonderful) story, I end up heartbroken and sobbing in a way that real life rarely triggers, thank CHRIST.

Or, maybe it is bits of my life every time that just trips the trigger.

I don't know anymore.

But, when you killed Ralph Roberts, you did something that affects me, hard, every single time.

I tried to remember while I was bawling my head off this time, what might have added to the load the previous times... PMS, depression, being a fatass, whatever... but, nothing came to mind.

This time, I'm wondering if the hellish month of June, coupled with the unremitting PRESSURE, may have been what did it.
I just don't know.

All I do know is that every time Ralph dies in Lois' arms, it kills me.
It touches something so far inside me that I can usually all but deny it's very existance, until YOU come along and make me love Ralph, then kill him right in front of me.
Somehow, and I don't know how damn it, it's more than just a character in a book dying.

I can goddamned FEEL it.
Every second of it.

Part of me nearly worships you for you mastery of words and imagery and the way you make it all so real.
The other part of me wants to kick your ass for hurting me so bad so many times.

But, I think that part is partly my fault.
I'm the one who can't NOT read it every so often.

But, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?
Why did you have to kill Ralph, damn it?

The stupid dog woulda been bad enough, ya know, ya jerk.

And then... to make it a choice between Ralph and a kid?
AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

You never follow up on these things, but I hope to fuck Natalie had an utterly wonderful friggin' life, considering what it cost people, me included.

You shithead.

And, ya wanna know what else?

The fact that this rips my heart out every. single. TIME. makes it all but impossible for me to know if that's why I freaked out, or if it is all the other shit.
'Caaaause, if it is all the other shit.....

There ain't nothing more I can do about any of THAT than there is about Ralph dying, is there?

*siiiiigh*

Fuck.

(Oh lovely. In the midst of this, a commercial just got me to do the whole "Fesh Prince of BelAir/e" rap thing.... yeah. That helped.)

Anyway...

Before you "retire", Steve, ya know what you need to do?

Finish the fuckin' stories.
One HUGE book, with all the "ever afters" in it.

Natalie.
Lois.
Helen.
Louis Creed.
Ellie.
Dennis Guilder.
Christine herself.
Was that her that got "Sander" Galton out there in California?
Did she work her way back East?
WHAT HAPPENED?!?

You said once that one of the worst things a story teller can do is let the end of the story be a ripoff.

Well, whadda ya think that shit all is?

I don't need ya to make it a "happy" ending, so much, as at least let me know if the prices we pay (hurting over Ralph like I do for instance) were worth it.

Whether they were or not.

I just want to know.

Meantime, even though I started out kinda pissed at you, now I want to thank you.

So-
Thank you (you bastard *smile*), for giving me something besides me life to freak out over. At least with Ralph, I can just go back to the beginning and Ralph gets to live again.
If I stop somewhere, anywhere, in the middle, it's cool.
Because then, I don't have to kill him by finishing the book.

Had I freaked about my life, however, there is the distinct possibility that I'd not be able to stop because there is no "going back" to be done there, is there?

I don't even know if I'd want to go "back" to any of it anymore, but....

I dunno.

All that's in my head now is that I miss Storm terribly.
I'd kill Brandy myself if it'd get me Storm back.
But, I would need to be absolutely certain it'd work....
(For whatever that's worth...)

But, since I can't do that...
I'm going for "losing weight" for whatever good that may do her.

Maybe she's just a naturally rough-gaited horse.
Maybe the bowed tendons have something to do with it.
Maybe it's her feet, which seem fine, by the way. Just like her tendons didn't stop her from show-jumping.
Maybe it's the ground.
Again...
I duuno.

But, I do know that cartin' my overly large ass can't be helping, plus I hate me like this, soooo....

Here we go.
Without Ephedra.
I'm tired of waiting for it to be sold again.

Besides, the Metabo-FX seems to be working just fine.
Three days so far.
And, I can list what I've eaten with the fingers of one hand.

Have more energy, too.

Now, if I could just DO something with it.

Besides type fast.

I wanna go outside.
Hell-hot out there, though.

Maybe not so much in the woods though, huh?
Not in the creeks, either.

Yeah.
Outside.

Away from that stupid book.
Outta this contemptable chair.
And, maybe, if I'm lucky... outta my tornado-like mind for a while.

Peace, y'all....

Posted by: Stevie at 01:27 PM

Comments

Posted by: Maeve at July 21, 2005 01:49 PM (6E1RR)

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