The Angel of Venice saw his old friend the "White Russian" again :)
I don’t have many secrets but I do have a few things about which there’s just nobody productive to talk to because there’s nothing productive to do…but it feels strange wandering the earth never having shared these things with anyone. It does feel “sick” – it doesn’t feel sustainable. At this phase in my life I have to start realistically thinking, if only once in a while, about how I want my life to be when I leave the world. I could still live a long time and I guess for all my troubles I still hope I do, but a lot of guys much younger than me also die of a heart attack or a freak accident or something, and I don’t want to die with these things caught inside me. Why chance it when, for the price of a postcard, you can let a little bit of your life loose?
I’ve never been married but you don’t usually get to my age without seeing a few people, and I love people so I don’t mess around – when I date anybody at all I usually get to know them pretty well. I’ve found they all just left a mark on me that doesn’t go away, for better or for worse. Some people provide mirrors on your own being and you never quite forget what you noticed about yourself when you looked into their eyes, looking at you. Some people never seem to connect with you or engage with life all the way no matter how hard you try to stay open and make it safer, and years later you still wonder what they needed and if they ever found it anywhere. Some people are very good and very much not “the one” and they just leave a tiny piece of your heart forever wishing it had worked. So I wrote a couple of postcards with a little bit about “her” and “them.” Planning on hitting the mailbox tomorrow.










