Dear Frank Black,
How are things with you? Don't tell me. I am interested mainly in what I imagine is up with you. Someone told me where you live and I was all, "I don't want to know! Don't tell me anything else!" He said Portland, not, like, your actual address or anything. But now I have to know you live in Portland. Just don't tell me anything else. It's messing everything up for my letters to you I think. What would be the word for when you've made someone a figment of your own imagined self. Figmentized?
I am leaving North Carolina for a month to live in New York and be a different kind of person you know like actaully start something else again. Like all the comedy I've been doing but I don't want to tell you about all that. Not that I think you'll show up at one of my shows (but just so you know, that can't happen okay?) but because I have so many plans and some of them are quite naive. But I can't think about how I'll remember the plans if I fast forward to writing you in 15 years because who knows how they'll shake out. But I think I know how I want them to. So they are plans.
What are you a Pisces? I bet you are. I'm Gemini. Ruler of the Earth. Not of dirt, but, of the planet Earth. Can you believe that? You are ruler of the ocean. So, technically, you're of my world but we're different. See? You rule something that is a part of me, right, the primordial part, but not the rest of it. So, there's probably a lot you couldn't know about me. And I can't understand how you swim all the time, or float, your feet not ever on anything. You can surely touch the ground, and live within the earth, but only as a part of your own insulation. And you are all muse, according to the books. I don't even know what that means.