Back in late November, when I felt absolutely insane, I wrote a post about running into my friends from Donut Farm who I hadn’t seen in a long time. Of the three girls I knew there, Rachel K. is somehow the only one I haven’t run into. Well: I sure do feel like I’ve woken up from a long dark dream—and, almost as if I were in The Program, I have this real urge to make amends for things I did in the past, no matter how minor, so that like a ghost with unfinished business I can right my wrongs and move on from this godforsaken hole~
AND THUS: I am currently writing Rachel K. a letter. I am going to walk down to West Oakland where I used to live and put it in her mailbox. There’s that Werner Herzog quote about how all truly important things in life should be done on foot, or whatever. . . . Yeah, it’s gotta be on foot. I’ll walk down Telegraph until I get to the Korean billiards house and creep up her darkened stairway and drop the thing in the box. It’s OK if she never replies, or forgives me, or whatever the hell else, because that’s not the point. The point is to just say something! And then walk away and accept that the act itself is enough. I love Rachel K. very much, and I think about her all the time, and I miss the hell out of her. I just gotta say I’m sorry before the whole world finally fucks me into the grave once and for all, any day now at this rate. . . .
I took these pictures of Rachel and her animals in December 2013. That was Four Little Secrets the rabbit and Kilgore the stray dog, who I named. Man, that was a good time. I love you dude.