Dear Friends,
I have it on good authority that it is foolish to live one’s life with imagination. People say to me that flights of fancy are supposed to stop as one ages. I personally think these people are morons. I treasure every time I book a ticket on Inspiration Air. Every flight is exceedingly precious and far too much fun even if I have to sit in coach. That is not to say that I live entirely in my head. I do live in this world. I see friends for coffee, call my brother, take classes in subjects that bore me, and cook my meals without the helpful kitchen utensils from beauty and the beast. The world is a gritty place that rubs you raw and makes small movements uncomfortable. But that uncompromising place is the set where my life is staged. It has found me crying, hurt, and screaming into the sky begging for some sort of divine help. However it has also found me laughing so hard I could not breathe, snuggled in arms that love me dearly, and effused with a contented joy. I will never stop marveling at the world’s miracles. The way a child laughs before society tempers it’s unadulterated emotions will always be at my core. I may not have been on the maiden voyage of Inspiration Air, (I am certain many boarded for flights before me) but I am rather sure I am a preferred member. And I intend to enjoy my frequent flyer miles to the fullest.
I find words bring me strength, comfort, distraction, and humor. I live my life by poems whether I am reciting William Earnest Henley’s Invictus in difficult situations, remembering I am a Phenomenal Woman like Maya Angelou, or remembering the lymrics on the graves of Tombstone, Az. Books and poems and even quotes are an integral part of my life and I try keep in mind the words that I want to live by.
I suppose that I am strange and this letter I am writing to my potential friends in Writing 206 might actually deter some from ever getting to know me. But life should be fraught with risk and reward so perhaps friendship isn't completely out of the cards. After all, the chemicals used to make hats for gentlemen in the centuries past drove the people who made the hats insane, (hence the expression ‘mad as a hatter). If you knew one of these craftsmen you were friends with someone quite unhinged, but you probably had one hell of a collection of hats to show off.
