Diana Kurniawan

April 18, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

For the past two days I've been worried, and fearful that I almost ended my life again. I wanted to swallow the Zoloft but I loved my Dad too much to leave him. My Mom left him and I couldn't do the same. I didn't tell my Dad why I was in bed the whole weekend. I didn't write and I didn't talk to anyone, even William, who I would usually call or meet at school. I decided to drop out and I will tell my Dad about the abortion because he has to know and perhaps he can help me get my GED and I can transfer to a community college in Jersey. 

 

I have so much fears inside of me about my life, Seth, that I don't know what to do. I am paralyzed by FEAR, and it is eating me alive. I had a dream last night that I was homeless and my Dad threw me out of the house because he was so disappointed and called me a slut. That he didn't want me to drop out and he was going to force me to go back to high school. Please don't tell my Dad anything if one day I sent these letters and you felt responsible or got scared because I'm a maniac.

 

I promise my love for you is harmless. The way I see you is how I feel about Mountain Turtles, and I view everything you do with loving eyes. You will never disappoint me. You've done well in life, Seth, and even if you somehow became a talk show host, I'd even be more proud, but I can't promise you that I will be alive or be able to watch your show every night.

 

For some reason I feel my life is short and I am so worried about it. I don't know if I was destined to be raped or that God had a plan for me to learn something from it, but I still will never understand why it has to happen to me. 

 

Remember those jars of tears? I don't know if God decides how many jars we will have and how many I will get will determine my strength. I am so fearful and so worried. I am so scared that I won't see tomorrow because of how I want to die today. Some days, the fear gets so painful and I feel like I've killed someone because of the abortion. 

 

I did it because I don't know if I can be strong enough as a Mom. My Mom wasn't strong enough for me and she left. She went out with someone else and left me and my Dad and never came back even once to check how I was doing. I wish you and I met when I was little so you can show me the ropes. What to learn and how to be strong and how to face my own fears, even when I didn't have a Mom during Mother's Day. I remembered at school, everyone had a Mom, and I cried to pieces because no one made my lunch, instead I had a snack bar from my Dad and it was my lunch for a very long time. I was still hungry and I didn't ask for help, but I was so scared and I didn't know what to do. I tried to play outside but it didn't work out. I would stay in and just put my foot under the sun, because perhaps my feet will have a mind of their own and will take me to different places. But, it took me to the bleachers because I was just searching for that love that I never had. I wish you are my big brother, perhaps I would be full of brotherly love that I won't have to search for it.

 

I wish you are here,

WishesOoohWishes (Your little sis, Mary).

 

 

April 19, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I told my Dad and my dream came true. 

 

"You're irresponsible and dumb!" he said to me in the morning after he came home from work. He was tired and he said he needed something to eat, but I told him to sit down and to breathe. When I told him that I needed to take time off from school, his eyes became wide and he looked wild.

 

"You can't! Who would supervise you at home? Are you at least going to work at Taco Bell?" he asked.

 

"No, Dad, I will have to take time off and relax.and heal," I said.

 

"You should stay busy. Heal from what?" he asked me. He had no clue what happened. I began to cry and tears were sobbing out without my knowledge. I didn't  know I was sobbing until I tried to talk and I couldn't. 

 

"I had an abortion, Dad," I told him.

 

His eyes that were wide became moist and turned red and he was speechless. His mouth was open for a little while and I asked him, "Are you okay. Say something...," I said.

 

"That's a crime," said my Dad. "You could have gotten benefits with a child."  His thoughts went directly to benefits and money and it was the last thing I thought he'd say.

 

"What happened?" he asked. 

 

I tried to say "rape," but nothing came out. 

 

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!" he screamed at me.

 

"Jack and I had rough sex behind the bleachers," I answered.

 

"You're dumb!" he said. "That was a dumb move."

 

"I didn't ask for the sex. It just happened," I said in sobs with my upper lips covered in mucuous from the snot out of nose flowing down.

 

"Yes, you did. You did this to yourself," said Dad, the only man who I really cared for. I didn't have anyone else in this world, and my dysfunctional relatives won't be any help, so I slumped down to the floor and cried.

 

"Playing dead now? That was your move when you were little. It won't work this time. This time you have to fix your mistakes. It was a slutty move, and now you're in deep trouble. Where did you do it? The back alley and now you've got an STD?" he asked.

 

I shook my head and I couldn't stop crying. My head felt like it was about to explode. I wanted to ask for help from my Dad because it hurts so much. My soul hurts so much. My heart broke in pieces from Jack and now from the only man who I thought cared for me. 

 

"I didn't know what to do," I said, my voice cracked and my tears kept flowing.

 

I thought he would say something kind, but he said, "You hurt us."

 

My tears felt like a fountain pouring over my cheeks and flowing down my neck leaving drops on the floor. I wanted to end my life again. I didn't feel safe at home. I needed to leave. I wanted to go away, and find someone who would love me. I felt the whole world would hurt me and was against me. I felt a big sword behind me stuck to my back from Jack and his family, and another sword from God. I felt like a victim and I felt betrayed and so broken. What could I possibly do to fix this?

 

"You have to keep working, or you are staying in school," said my Dad.

 

"I can't. I can't show up to school with my mind like this," I said.

 

"You don't have a choice," said Dad. He walked out the door and drove off. He usually goes to sleep after his overnight shift but this time he drove off. I hope he won't be drunk when he comes home.

 

My stomach was still throbbing and I still had the diaper on from the procedure. I walked to T-Bell and talked to my manager and told him that I was ill and won't be able to work and have to quit. He had tears in his eyes because he said that he really enjoyed working with me. He said that he knew T-Bell was sort of a place of comfort for me with free burritos and cheese dips for dinner for me when I had no one to feed me. I told him, "I took out my frustrations here, and it helped. But i have new problems that has to be worked out in other ways."

 

"I understand, Mary," my manager said. I covered my face for a moment and he told me, "You're rehire-able."

 

"That means a lot to me," I replied.

 

 

April 20, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

My Dad threw me out, Seth. I came home with my stomach in a bit of a hurl and went to the bathroom to vomit. I heard a slam at the door and my Dad walked to the back towards my bedroom and screamed at the top of his lungs, "You're stupid! You should have listened to me!" Then he slammed my door when he realized I was in the bathroom and he went to where I was, and there I was lying on the bathroom floor after a few vomits, and a hurting stomach, and my Dad began to cry.

 

"I sacrificed my life for your Mom because she got pregnant. I could have finished college and had a full time career and your Mom could have found a job and helped out, but she chose to ran out on me and you and went with some asshole who had a full time career," he said. "I could have been great, and now my daughter is a failure."

 

"Dad, I tried to help out," I pleaded. "Don't say I'm a failure. I already feel bad enough."

 

I wanted to ask him for mercy and ask him for a pause in life for a pause in blaming me and blaming my whole existence. That it was my fault that my Mom got pregnant and that I was the cause of her failure and his failure. I wished I was never born. I felt worse than garbage and I felt worse and low that I couldn't possibly recover. What should I do, Seth. I am the fault in all of life. I don't want to live.

 

I went to the bedroom and slammed it and locked it. I grabbed my backpack and took a few underwears and my bank card and a sweater, my jacket and my jeans and shirts. I took my medication and the meds for the PID and you, Seth, the journal I have been writing to. My love letters to my hero. You were the last thing I wanted to lose. If I lost you, it would be another tragedy. 

 

In life, you'd probably label me a loser because here I am, 17 and losing my mind, losing my life, and losing my whole existence because I had sex once and got raped once. You would probably call me garbage too, and you might not even appreciate me. That's why I'm not sending you these letters. You might report me, call the police, hurt my reputation and I guess, because you're rich and a celebrity, you'd hurt me too. I wish there were nicer people in the world that I'd start believing in you.

 

I am starting to lose every warmth inside my heart and the bitterness began to hurt me more than what my Dad labelled me. I walked out and left my Dad on the couch asleep. He was drunk and he slobbered and screamed because he was drunk. I didn't want to get hurt and I didn't want to stay in my room and swallow all of my pills. So I walked out.

 

Journal Station wasn't too far and I walked there and took my bank card and paid for the MTA fare for New York. Right now I'm in the train with no plans to go home. I don't know what to do but I know it's 8 at night and I don't know what to do. 

 

Clueless,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 21,2010

 

I've been in the train station for overnight because I don't think I have enough money for a hotel room. I only have $500 in the bank. I will need it for really important things. I went to a bodega on 42nd street and got myself an orange juice. It should last me for a day with all that Vitamin C. I was thinking of getting those packed sandwiches but it cost $4 so I got an M&M and will be eating it when I take my meds. I don't know what to do about that either. I got it precribed to me from school and now that I'm not in school, I'm not sure if I can take my meds anymore. I know I will feel the changes more and will be crying more. I don't know what else to do but to cry again. 

 

I'm sorry if I write that I'm crying again, Seth. I'm not a cry baby but when I'm confused and lost and I am so afraid, I cry. And I have to write about it because if it stays inside my body and my brain, I will go psychotic and try to end my life again. 

 

I think I will use my $500 for a room somewhere and get myself to a job. Maybe I can find a fast food place and work there like I did at T-Bell. I will walk everywhere although I hardly know New York and I don't know what to do now that I'm on my own. I'm so scared that the top of my brain has chills. The back of my neck felt clenched like someone wants to pull me down to the ground and into the Earth six feet under. I am so worried that I am supposed to die right now but I'm beating around the bush and trying to not harm myself because I'm confused and scared.

 

Seth, if you were in front of me, what would you tell me? I am trying to picture you talking to me, advising me and helping me, but I don't know if you'd care. If you were in front of me, Seth, I would want you to tell me that you do care about me and what happens to girls like me. Girls who don't know any better and girls who don't know what to do. 

 

Some people have a compass, but I never got one. Mine went with my Mom, and even my Dad lost his compass too. We both felt lost without her because I felt she was so selfish and she wanted more in life that she was willing to sacrifice us. I wish she took me with her and left Dad on his own and let him get his college degree, then perhaps I could be in a better spot. 

 

Some people have a roof over their heads, but if it wasn't for a cheap rental that my Dad and I lived in, we'd be homeless. Look what happened to me, Seth. Now I'm a statistic, and I'm homeless because my Dad told me I was dumb and a stupid and a loser. I want to go to my grave, Seth, but I'm afraid of death.

 

I'm sitting on the floor of the 42nd street exit in New York and I wanted to see the Rockefeller Plaza and I wanted to see you, but my shirt was wet from my snot and I was sweaty. You wouldn't want to see me. I'm still crying and I am still worried. I hope my own mind won't kill me.

 

Wishing for a better life,

WishesOoohWishes in New York.

 

 

 

April 12, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I went to Planned Parenthood and talked to the nurses and they said I might have a very serious case of PID. They gave me some meds and I took them, but it's gotten worse because I'm pregnant. I'm suicidal. I want to die, Seth, and I don't want to tell anyone in case they will call the police on me. My Dad doesn't know and I have an appointment to abort in a couple of days. I'm staying away from school because the pain in my pelvic is so raw and rough on me that I can't even sit down. 

 

I got PID from Jackass Jack, because I'm not sexually active with anyone, and I suppose he's been sleeping with someone else, and I don't want to know who. I am so terrified right now because I"m worried I'm not going to get shot by an Italian at T-Bell but that my groin will grow bacteria and I will die of an infection (which is more realistic if you ask me). But, in all honesty, I wish Jack will get shot by an Italian in his bathroom on his toilet while taking a dump so all his shit will show. I'm really hurt by him because I wanted true love but I got an STI instead. I wish I can tell you what it feels like, because I can bet that you never knew how it feels to be me. I bet you're the type who gets the girls, but don't let them touch you because you're polished and high class, unlike me who is a daughter of an alcoholic who doesn't even remember my birthday. It was this past Sunday, and I spent it at Planned Parenthood. 

 

If I can express my emotions to you at this time, it would just be tears in a bottle. I read somewhere that God collects tears inside a bottle and that every soul has a jar and if it gets filled up, then He'll start another jar. Somehow that fact hurts me, because I believe it and I know God is watching, but I've screwed myself over and I bet Jack only has a tiny tube instead of a bottle because he's a prick and he doesn't care about me. He hung up and I can't call him anymore because I don't want to get sued by his rich parents for stalking him or harassment. 

 

Seth, I think I might have more than one jar of tears. I'm so worried because how many jars will I have to cry in my life time, if I'm this sick and raped by 17? Do you think I'll have a long life? I know you're not with me, but if you were in front of me, would you hurt yourself? I want to end it all. 

 

I can't handle it, so I'm taking the Zoloft prescribed by the Nurse Practitioner at PP,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 13, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I took a few Zoloft again and it made me feel sort of numb but I had a nice dream.

 

It was Valentine's Day, and I was in this dream in some unknown town in Europe, with you. It was the day of the LOVE CARNIVAL. All streets in the Europe, whether cobbled, pebbled, or paved filled with people, friends and families, especially children with heart pins on their proper attire of their choice to attend this carnival. We saw in social media that Japan and China, then Singapore and Russia were starting to do it too, but in their time zones. 

 
Each person nearby us received a little heart token to meet a real prince or a princess of their choice, with the condition to accept or reject any invitations with the eyes of love, and to honor each person offering their hearts. The scents of my favorite citrus fruits, and jasmine emanating in the air from all of the granulated tea satchets, were sold in every corner of the huge square blocks of the carnival.

 
There were open carriages with plump cupids with wings, holding signs with such beautiful messages, "Love, the non-perishable item!" Or "You are made to last forever!" There were roars from people with each message, and as each carriage passes by, sparkly heart confettis were thrown in the air, and it was a beautiful day.

People were meeting each other, and new friendships were formed. No one was left behind and nothing would harm anything; and Seth Meyers, in this dream, you were the King of the Carnival. There were Love Festivals, or Love Parades all across the world held in the cities of your choice. All heart shaped decors were out of stock, red balloons had a waiting list, and for some reason, there were kiwis everywhere! Everything sweet was at the carnival, and every kind of candy shops had a booth. All types of fairies were there, all kinds of fairy god-mothers, gothic fairies, pretty fairies, or tooth fairies walked around with their wands and their wings, and every woman wore a tiara. There was a violinist playing Vivaldi's Four Season, and later on, a guitarist, strumming Eric Clapton! Amor de machina!!!

 
I witnessed a miracle, because for one day, everyone was in love and everyone was kind to one another. Forgiveness won, and I was laughing and happy. No matter how much pain was done, for one whole day, everything spelled L-O-V-E!!! Of course, the hot air balloon had to be there with little puppies inside, ready for some soul to take them home, and yes, there was a cotton candy machine, complete with a clown who sold each bubblegum flavored cotton candy to someone like me, who was in love with King of the Carnival, Seth Meyers. For some reason, all of my missing pieces inside my heart from Jack's rape were gone, and my dreams came true.

 
Have you ever held a carnival like this before, Seth? Anywhere? Maybe you could do this for Valentine's day, just once a year, for everyone, everywhere!!!! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!!!

 

I just want you to be on everything!!! With ZOLOFT coating,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 14, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I went, and I aborted. I want to die, because It feels like killing my own heart. I vomited and the nurses held my hand and the nurse practitioner who helped me abort told me that it was risky to have the baby because of the PID. I was severely depressed when the put me in sedation and they said that I came out with tears in my eyes.

 

I couldn't stop crying and the nurses wanted to take me to the emergency room, at a proper hospital, but I told them that I took a few days off from T-Bell and I would have to take a few days off some more, and I couldn't take a month off. If I were to be taken as inpatient, I'd have to be at the hospital for at least a couple of months and William will be telling everyone that I was sick and it was because of Jack. 

 

I called William, but I didn't tell him anything. I told him that I won't graduate this year and I will be dropping out. I won't go to prom and I won't go to any dances and I asked him to pray for me. He cried. He said, "Jack is wrong to you. What happened?" But, I couldn't tell him. William might be the only person I could trust, but I still couldn't tell him. I didn't even tell Dad. He asked me where I was the whole day because I came back in the evening, holding my stomach with a brown bag of meds and I inhaled them immediately, along with the anti-depressants. I wanted to dream like last night again. I wanted to dream that I was in a Love Carnival.

 

I want to dream, all the time. I want to go away. I want to start over, but I didn't know how. 

I needed to find you, and I wanted to go to New York with the bus or take the subway there. It's not far and I heard some people say that you walk to work. Maybe, we can have coffee and I can walk with you on your way to the Rockfeller Plaza and you can give me a pep-talk about boys and why they hurt me.

 

I wish you can tell me why Jack would rape me and not even talk to me afterwards. I wish you can tell me why Jack would hurt my life at all, knowing how much I was crazy about him. I wish you have all of the answers. I wish you were my big brother, maybe my life would have been better.

 

You're my hero, Seth, and my imaginary big brother,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 15, 2010

 
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers, of Saturday Night Live,

 
I believe, there is always a reason a person is placed in the middle of life. Sometimes, to harness the wind, and at times just to make you smile, even for a speck of time. You make me smile, Seth Meyers, and I thank you. I think I've met plenty people, but for some reason, as anyone could identify with, only a handful comes into your mind. Statistically, it is impossible for anyone to be in anyone's mind at the same time, especially for a poignant purpose in life. This role is not for just anyone to fill, and this person may be an Oscar winner of an actor, but people will know their real characters, it comes with time. I believe in you, Seth Meyers, and your character, although in public view, you could make anyone smile. Congratulations, you are a beautiful comedian and a gorgeous actor. I am extremely proud.

 
If you are wondering who the people who harness the wind for me, are? They are the people who are in my position, the people who love you. They don't know how profound their lives are, because I understand how they admire and their reason for inspiration. I think, sometimes we need a good person to look at, and to remind ourselves, that we are as tasteful, delightful, and beautiful as they are. There is comfort in affinity and also, we sometimes just want to smile, and laugh, OUT LOUD!!! Sometimes, that's all we need.

 
There are others, the ones who just make you cry and fill you with the fuzziest, warmest, and most genuine heart felt emotion to move you. I want to be one of those people, and I wish for others to learn and become that person too, as I am learning myself. I want to make a difference in my own life, and I am happy there were others who did make a difference in my life, without even knowing. There is always a reason for everything, and if there aren't, maybe the reason will show up with time. I hope all those reasons are so good, that everyone could make it in life, just like you, Seth Meyers. Maybe, out of the millions of people who love you, someone will learn to be as profound. Then they will be the inspiration for someone else, as you are to me.

 
I know I want to.

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 16, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I stayed home and Dad was upset because I haven't been to school. I told him that I needed time and space and to take my time to think and he lost it. He threw the gin bottle in the sink and it shattered. He said his life was a piece of shit and he didn't know how to fix it. Dad was afraid that I'm turning into him. He said he wants me to go to college, but I don't want to right now. I'm not in the right mindset.

 

I just aborted and I needed time to think. I'm still bleeding out of my womb.

 

If my Dad threw me out of the house, I'm going to take all of my money in my bank account and go to New York CIty and stay at a shelter somewhere. 

 

My stomach feels like it has a screwdriver stirring my intestines. It hurts and I can't walk. I never knew my first time having sex would be at Breckenridge and I was going to be raped because of it and had to abort. I think those jars of tears are filling up fast, Seth. I have been crying, and it has been really hard on me. I got an anxiety attack and a panic attack because I didn't know how to control my fears. I had a dream that Jack was going to take me to court if I reported him. 

 

You probably think of me as a coward for not reporting, but I wish you knew how rich Jack was compared to me. Plus, I asked for it, and I got rape because I was turning him on. I deserved it, Seth. I'm the fuck up. I took an extra Zoloft tonight, and if I don't wake up, you'll know why. 

 

Thank God I would never send these letters to you. You'd probably report me, too. 

 

I am garbage,

WishesOoohWishes.

April 5, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

It's really more than revulsion of life that I am writing out these letters to you, but for the purpose of healing. Who knew that writing is coping? And to love a writer like you, Sethy, is bliss and candies.

 

I hope you realize the power of your influence on my heart, because you've moved my life from the opprobrium to subtle glory. It is not about my faulty ideals anymore, it is more of release to gain strength, because somehow, I can empty out all of those bad horoscope readings on my past and replace it with some good astrology.

 
There is more depth to me now, because after I release all of my angers on paper about my misfortunes, I feel the energies of those who've experienced similar dramas. It's all there, and I have to just take those energies out to replace them with some form of wisdom of profound truth, from what I've learned through my own disgraces. I am so grateful you are not mad at me, otherwise I would feel sad about my life, if I my heart throb is actually disgusted by me. You are so patient Seth Meyers, and the more I write to you, the more I realize you are forever gorgeous and I am forever in love with you.

 

Don't worry about what others will think about you because some high school kid is nuts about you, when I'm underage and you're over the thirties hump. I'm just an old soul and I feel like I've known you all of my life. I used to think I you look like an old neighbor names Udi, but he's long gone and married now and he's nothing like you.

 

I feel better today but there are still bouts of anger and it hurts me. I still have thoughts of the bleachers and my Dad is still not here and Brenda sometimes comes around. But, everything feels fleeting. Everything, even life. I feel like my life will end early, because at this rate, after the rape and the episode at Planned Parenthood, I'm going to be shot somehow at T-Bell by an Italian. Don't get mad at me because of these morbid thoughts, because what kind of positive moments in life have I had lately? None.

 

In pain, truthfully,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 6, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night LIve,

 

I want to be like William, minus the facial hair and chubby body. He told me today that Seth, you're his hero too, and I immediately love him as a brother. I gave him a hug and told him that he's my friend for life.  He then told me about this group that he saw my Dad's friend, Sam, is in, The Knights of the Columbus. William told me that if I needed his help and Sam's help, to come to him, and to ask him for help. 

 

I don't want to tell anyone about the assault and as a matter of fact, Jack, is no in my mind unless I get symptoms of my depression again. It hurts when I get it because I can't stop crying and I hurl and vomit. I don't tell anyone and I try to slice my wrist with my nails, but we all know that's not real, so I just play it cool and let it go. I don't let anyone tell me what to do anymore. I don't trust anyone and even my Dad doesn't care. I have to make sure rent is paid and we have a roof over our head, because Dad hasn't been around lately and neither has Brenda. I'm worried something is wrong and he's going to be depressed and lose his job this time. I don't want to be homeless.

 

I tried to speak to India, the girl who told me about Jack and how she knew. I tried to ask a couple of people and I called Mabel, to see if she'd know. I still hate all the princesses of my high school. They have everything and I work at T-Bell. I was dumped by Jack and those girls are virgins and they've never even been kissed. 

 

Hindsight, I regret it all, Sethy. I regret wanting to be kissed by Jack and wanting to sleep with him. I regret wanting to have sex with him, and wanting to be a part of his life. I regret everything. Sometimes the sorrow is so full over my head that I can't handle it. 

 

I don't know India's number and I don't know if anyone will talk to me about Jack. I can't call Mabel, she'll tell my homeroom teacher or the principal and I'll get Jacked. No pun intended.

 

Lost for words,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 7, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I thought about the millionaires of the world, and how satisfied they are with their lives, with a degree or without a degree. Are they satisfied with who they are and what they've done, especially after their pursuits of happiness? Do they all have true love?

 

Have they made themselves, whom they become in all honesty? Have they fumbled the ways of life, on the road to success? Were they millionaires by birth? The truth is, I am the millionaire of love, and I suppose that love was what I want to also seek, but I'm a poor woman in faith. I have none, and i don't think I will survive this life.

 

Maybe because my dream, hopes, and its level of success does not have a monetary value, because it is priceless in comparison to ambitious money. It is measured and based on my personal desires of having a family, beautiful career, and lasting friendships. Does this ambition come with a picket fence with a rose garden and a Mercedes Benz? Why not? Why not go beyond and reach the sky?

 

Besides, this scale is an innate gift, the one my Dad told me to develop in life.  Yes, I think it could be a measure of the education I can gain, or naturally and through nurture. This is why going to school is best for me, and I am happy to know I am not the only one with this desire, hope, or measurable scales of ambition. But, with Jack in high school....education is a misfortune at this time, Seth.

 

The other girls at school have some form of a walnut like brain inside their psyche, but me...I'm just a walnut. They may not be a pistachio like me, but they have the same level of peanuty flavor, with a slightly salty tasty to them. Some people have this flavor of opinions from that walnut of a brain they have, so raw that's perfectly tasty, and noticeably delicious to its element. It is unmistakably them, and it is their signature taste, with a delicious presentation for accompaniment. They have someone who cares for them. My life is non-existent to a lot of people, and the only person who said he cared was William and The Planned Parenthood nurses. I'm just a plain nut, and the pistachio dream is unreal, Sethy. 

 

I want to be this exceptionally rare beauty, until the world is enchanted through me. This desire only comes out when I'm writing to you, because in reality, I am a huge mess and I'm going nuts.

 

Wondered if you wrote love notes in class,

WishesOoohWishes ------ß--@

 

 

April 8, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I called Jack. He hung up. I vomited and Dad heard me. Surprisingly he was home and it seems like he was having a serious talk with Brenda. I know Dad is supposed to be sober now, but I've seen him and Brenda having a couple of beers sometimes, and I don't write down when, but I know that's not right. But, who am I to tell him what to do? I'm sick myself.

 

Jack was all inside my chest today, and school was a Jackass, no pun intended. I'm tired of going there and I want to leave the planet. I don't want to stay at school, and I want to search for you. I want to visit you at the Rockefeller Plaza and meet you in person and kiss you on your lips, even if you're sick. I won't tell anyone if you reject me, even. That's how crazy I am about you. I know your girlfriend is beautiful and I predict you will have three kids, two boys and a girl. It's 2010 now, and I'm not sure how long until you're going to get hitched and make babies, but I'm going to make a go at it. I don't know what to do with my rape trauma. Everyday it is worse. I vomit all the time and I'm not eating. I don't want to, and I don't want to go back to the Planned Parenthood, they'll just call my counselour.

 

I'm having a nervous breakdown I think, is that possible at 17? I'm not sure if this is what it is called? Is my nerves taking the best of me and me crying in a fetal position in the girl's bathroom a nervous breakdown? Because that was all day today at school, and I escaped again. I ran out of the school double doors and I didn't look back. That place is hell on Earth. I shouldn't have gone. I want to leave!

 

Planning to drop out,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 9, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

If I was an "I Love you," in bubble letters, I would be the colors of Royal Blue Letters with hearts all across the words Love. It symbolizes my royal heart of a princess and the depth of love all throughout the color lines. William asked me why I wanted to date Jack or to have a relationship with him.  My answer is because baby lobsters can only mate once when it grows up, so it better have the perfect match.

 

I wish people could just see how I love them, and at times they probably won't understand why I love the way I love. But, love is love and people are stupid.

 

Some people want me to love them a certain way, and I would try to do so, but the fact is, I've gone through what I call, …shit hole.

 

For example: there were letters I wrote to you, Seth, and it was all angry words. All SHH8T this, and all F6%! That…but they never made it in print, because I wanted to say the things I say without restrictions. Then I realized, its just like the way people want me to love them a certain way, and I don't understand. If we were to meet, I know you would want me to write nice things about people, not shit this and shit that because I'll get sued and you'll get sued for teaching me flagrant things. But, I'm in a shit hole. So I'm writing shit-holish things.

 

So, the stresses comes out and the frustration level rose to headache level. I just wish I could control every thing to minty lavender and happy basil all the time., when I'm writing to you, but I was so hurt that I could not understand my own love for you. I just kept writing and writing verbage I know you wouldn't like. As all writers know, it was okay and it will be edited out later, but with me, because I'm not a writer, I'm writing these shit down and I don't care.

 

It isn't so perfect with the ways of my life, Seth. I hope you don't care about my deep emotional traumas.  I felt it was always my fault, these overwhelming emotions, because I was the cause of the rape and Jack was just following his nerves. 

 

I want to make it stop, this emotions and headaches, to leave lonely planet to make the heartaches stop. I wish you are here to comfort me, and I wish you are my neighbor. Then the cries ceases to tear, and my heart heals itself to love.

 

I was just trying to heal and love, but there were cacophonies and commotions in the background ruining moments with or without Diet Coke.  I wish I could explain this further, but my heart is breaking and I wish I have some people back in my life again.

 

Unconditionally a loving fan,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 10, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

My Dad has a rough night, and he said he broke it off with Brenda because his AA Group noticed he's been doing wrong and drinking after work.  Sam came by and told us to seek a family counselour. He said he's sober now and he's doing good with The Knights of the Columbus and asked my Dad to join. My Dad said, "What a be a crazy prick with pins on their shirts? No, thanks, bud. I gotta go to AA on my own."

 

I don't blame him, and I don't blame Sam either. I wanted to tell William to stop telling Sam what to do because I know why William tells Sam to help out, it's because William is afraid I'm going to drop out and become a homeless teen. I'm not going that route. I"m going to see if I can do better. I'm turning this shit around. I'm tougher than they think. 

 

I'm trying to find out what I can do with myself. I'm really messed up, Seth. My headaches are monstrous and I'm not on the pill. I'm worried I really am pregnant. I'm hoping my period stays regular. I haven't checked. If I get pregnant, I'm not sure what to do with myself. I'm sick to my stomach and all I can think about is being with Jack and being in a marriage with him and everything is perfect and we have a career and a dog and two kids. I'm psycho I think. I'm thinking of how perfect life would be with him, when in reality is that Jack raped me.

 

I'm going to stop and just watch SNL. I will write tomorrow or in a day or so. I'm so sick, I can't write.

 

I'm delusional and I feel sick,

WishesOoohWishes.