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A letter from Maria

Posted on Sunday, February 8, 2009 in Letters, letters To Stu

March 5, 1974

Dear Stuart,

This is the fourth letter I’ve started to you. Your last letter…disillusioning? Disappointing? Yes… You remind me of a lady I knew who was also convinced that the “internal” was non-existent. She tried to commit suicide. She asked me what the point in suffering each day was, if only to exist. She reminded me of you.

Stuart, there has to be more than “Let’s Make A Deal” and suntans. There has to be more, or we should take Janet’s advice and kill ourselves now. I know this sounds melodramatic and I’m sorry.

I do know that there is more than the surface stuff. The fact that you’re even…God, I don’t know. Only I know for certain that I’ve been through at least four incarnations by now. Oh dear, how do I explain?

You say that time has been wasted and damage done. Well, time is always being wasted and damage always being done. You’re wasting time — hustling divorcees, beach bumming, drinking cokes. I’m wasting time–reading, talking, procrastinating about the nature of reality and non-reality.

Well, this letter is only succeeding in making me unhappy. I can’t cope.

Love,

Maria

p.s. write again, especially if it helps you focus.

I met Maria in a nightclub in San Francisco where I was playing steel guitar with a not especially good band called Cayenne. She had long hair and a kind of big nose. I  thought she was very pretty. During our break I went over to hr table. I told her I loved her and walked way.  After our next set was over, she came up to me and handed me a small piece of paper, which contained her phone number. She had very girlish handwriting with big curlicues and exclamation points after every sentence.

I fucked her a week later in the attic of a garage I was living in with the rest of the band. I guess she was a good fuck. I don’t really remember. Unfortunately, in the morning she had very bad breath, and I never fucked her again. Nor did I ever write her back after this letter.


I guess I didn’t want to learn how to “focus.”

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