Dear Colby Scott

I remember the bush behind your house. Memories are never to clear to me, it is better when people spark my memories… or even writing helps I suppose. Now I remember there was a graveyard on the way to the bush. That Golden bush. It was golden. I am not sure if we only went when it was summer. Byron was often golden, whether summer, winter or whatever. I cannot remember running so much, probably I remember floating more, wandering for the sake of wandering. Searching for our pot of gold. We should have gone deeper. Deeper is always better. Even lost and missing is better. And the big beautiful and innocent cows.

—->wow I remember something just as beautiful, probably more distant and beautiful than the golden fields. It was in Newcastle when I was young. It was raining and it was cold. I was running with my dog in the bush behind my friends house. Thick bush. There was a creek that flowed there… a very slow flow. Lazy flow… it was wet and I had no shoes.. there was lots of clay and you could grab the banks and pull lumps of clay out with your hands. I was with my dog that my family got from the pound. Everyone hated that dog.. it would nip your heels and jump up on you. Pull your clothes. I was the only one who could make it calm. Well I ran through the bush alongside that creek with my dog.. it was nice. But theres no use trying to describe anymore. Except no-one else liked the dog so killed it and I cried.

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….I do remember that place behind your old house, in search of my grasses knoll. I did place special importance on that place or that time. I even took Nell there with ambitions to feel the same golden importance with her. I always place the blame on my anxiousness around females but for whatever reason it was not the same. The grass was longer and I could not find that clearing… do you know that little clearing? That we stay and lied in. It was a nice boyish innocent… “Young boys frolic through the Golden Meadow”. I was probably thinking more about holding Nells hand or kissing her for it to be as nice. Clouded my connection with that place… and as you do… all I want is to hold hands and kiss gently. Afterwards once “we” are together… I can focus more so on my surroundings.

You are an amazing foolish whore. You are great at it. You write amazing emails. Since you have been writing me more I have been printing out your emails. Soon I will have myself a little collection, I’ll get it published and make money off my foolish whore. Doll yourself up…

…. I am glad that I have come to except my foolishness. I have really embraced it. Do you remember me falling off my chair in class for a few coins so I could get a scone from the canteen. I am the real foolish whore. I think it is me… and even the art philosophy I am hooked on speaks of following the “impossible”… so I follow ridiculous things in my mind… I follow the sweet little foolish whore up a ugly dangerous tunnel.. I will not be surprised if I am stabbed one day.

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yes I do think you are a fool to a certain degree. You seem to be a very intelligent fool though. Which is the most dangerous kind of fool. Charles Manson fool, Hitler fool… please let me know if you wish to pursue these paths.

—->

I do feel linked to you. It is an uneasy link and I’m not too sure. But I think you are very deserving of anything that you get. I am trying harder to be more understandable and not trail off… rambling about art or towers. I do like that you think I’m a fool. I really do like that and maybe I’m hovering on that thought because maybe I am slightly offended. I do not like it when people cannot take criticism or cannot give criticism. I met someone in Bendigo who got hooked on me, partly because his friends were too Australian and stupid. But anyway, he wanted to hug me and was talking me up.. “this will be the best year ever!” he said. Like a little kid he looked at me, wanting me to take me under his wing perhaps. Which is not what I want at all. I need someone to kick me and tear down my notions of reality… or even just say “this picture looks okay, but this here is crap”. I am often suspicious of people who “feel a connect” with me.

Perhaps I am okay with whatever connection we have because it is uneasy. You know how people say that the best friends or colleagues are either your equal or they are somewhat better than you. Which is a very simple idea. Maybe whatever link we have is good because we do not know where we stand. There is a lot I could learn off you, one obviously being how to articulate myself better. But then again it could be a waste of time. Thinking… I’m not sure. But you definitely are onto something. You probably laze around a bit too much. Then again I think thats why you have the gift of the gab. You have lazed around and just read. I say usually I have no time and if I can’t relax I cannot follow the writing. You can write very nicely and with passion… I think I usually am scared of looking like a dressed-up whore so I write distortedly. Thinking that I may not get my point across (or any point) so  I indulge in discordant poetry, which I like… and the naifs I like them sometimes too. Simple naive grass and flowers.

…but then again people disappoint me all the time so an intelligent person doesn’t have to impress me too much. They just have to give me a taste.

Fuck man.. I am really trying to answer your email and not just indulge in myself. It is hard. Such dense emails. Usually I just use you to jack off.

I’m sure you don’t need any praise but certain things you say sometimes give me a little shiver. You really hit the nail (never on the head though because you’re not allowed). I agree with a lot of the things you say.

My dad has terrible people skills. None whatsoever. I think you must always try a little harder with him. I have learnt to be extremely wary of people. Hopefully I will never be paranoiac, as he is.

{I am slowly indulging in myself again, I promise not to waver too far.)

I mean to say that I never invest too much in people. If I see that they need it or want it or I want or need it I’ll give them everything. I’ll really try for the moment. Just the moment. Because you felt it. And fuck this small investment might pay off. Even, perhaps this investment won’t give you much. Maybe you’ll just be cold on the street one night and they’ll invite you in for a cup of tea. But fuck investing all my time. I place a lot of value on time.

I am disappointed usually. But I have faith that somewhere in the world is a group of people that will excite passion and will muster some manic mayhem. I then sometimes think that I should forget looking for them and just exist. Because when I realise I will never find these ideal people (or maybe better than ideal people) I will concentrate intensely on myself… then I’ll be a glowing little buzzer and I’ll attract people, they will come to me. This has been proven in history. I still have hope though and perhaps looking for people will be less lonely than concentrating on myself.

I like the jacking off metaphor… ideas and entertainment mix well. Thats really what we’ve been doing. There has been no how are you what did you do today? We’ve just been spurting thoughts into each others faces. Its great. Good job. And good job to me too.

I have a sickness, a perverted nature that really entertains me. I am such entertainment to myself.

You are very romantic Colby. “I wish I could see your face”. I am not taking that out of context and I know you just want to see the effect that you have on me. I am glad that you are not inhibited about saying that. I usually would be… hopefully I am not anymore. But yes its working.. you are getting your connection. It is not just another email. It has importance. It was meant to be printed. I have highlighted parts. You are not losing me in your chaos.

Though I think it would be too much for a lot of people. Not that I have special abilities… perhaps I am missing your points. But I think I see the importance.

Do you listen to Nina Simone.. she is really beautiful. I was reading a review for her DVD last night and they asked her “what is freedom?” (because she did a lot for the blacks decades ago in USA) and she said “To have no fear… something something… No fear!” They described her passion so well. Her eyes wider as she repeated “no fear” and slid to the front of her chair. Really beautiful woman. “…just like a woman….”

I think verification does help us a lot. Though it can lead us down wrong paths and can be a waste of time and do damage to confidence or heighten it.

….and then again.

I think that is me. I remember Colby. I’m not sure if people remember better than I do but I remember. It was a nice peaceful time. Typical of that age probably.

Alright i’m going to make a tea.

How are you coping with uni? Good choice? How is Hayley and Nell? I hope Hayley is getting her act together. I want a part in her play.