Quote:
My Dearest Karen,
I miss you. I love you. I don't deserve expect your forgiveness. I'm leaving tomorrow XXXXXXXXX though I plan to return. But who knows, right?
You've seen that place.
Guess I'm writng a will too. By the way I'm drunk. Sell the house, the film, everything I have, take it all. Tell the kids daddy loves/ loved them. I love them, I love you.
Why am I doing this? Because it's there and I'm not. I know that's a pretty shitty answer. I should burn down the place down, forget about it. But going afters omething like this is who I am. You know that.
If I wasn't like this, we never would hve met in the firstp lace becasue I never would have stopped my car in the middle of traffic, ran to the sidewalk, and asked you out.
No excuse, huh? Guess I'm just another b*****d abandoning XXXXXXX woman and kids for a big adventure. I should grow up, right? I accept that, I'd like to it, I've tried to do it, easier said/written than done.
I need to get back to that place one more time. I know something now and I just have to confirm it. Slowly the pieces have been coming together. I'm starting to see that place for what it is and it's not for cable shows or National Geographic.
Do you beleive in God? I don't think I ever asked you that one. Well I do now. But my God isn't your Catholic varietal or your Judaic or Mormom or Baptist or Seventh Day Adventist or whatever / whoever. No burning bush, no angels, no cross. God's a house. Which is not to say that our house is God's house or even a house of God. What I mean to say is that our house is God.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Think I've lost my mind? Maybe, maybe, maybe Maybe just really drunk. Pretty crazy you have to admit. I just made God a street address. Forget all that last part. just forget it. I miss you. I miss you. I won't reread this. If I do I'll throw it away and write somethign terse, clean and sober. And all locked up. You know me so so well. I know you'll strip out the alchohol fumes, the fear, the mistakes, and see what matters-a code to decipher written by a guy who thought he was speaking clearly. I'm crying now. I don't think I can stop. But if I try to stop I'll stop writing and I know I won't start again. I miss you so much. I miss Daisy. I miss Chad. I miss Wax and Jed. I even miss Holloway. And I miss Hansen and Latigo and PFC Miserette, Benton and Carl and Regio and 1st lieutenant Nacklebend and of course Zips and now I can't get Delial out of my head.
Delial, Delial, Delial--the name I gave to the girl int he photo that won me all the fame and gory, that's all she is karen, just the photo. And now I can't understand anymore why it meant so much to me to keep to keep her a secret -- a penance or something.Inadequate. Well there it's said. But the photo, that's not what I can't get out of my head right now.
Not the photo--that photo, that thing-- but who she was before one-sixtieth of a second sliced her out of thin air and won me the pulitzer though that didnt keep the vultures away i did that by swinging by tripodaround though that didnt keep her from dyding five years old daisy's age except she was pciking at a bone you should have seen her not the but her a little girl quatting in a field of rock dangling a bone between her fingers i miss miss miss but i didnt miss i got her along with the vulture in the background when the real vulture was the guy with the camera preying on her for his ******** pulitzer prize it doesnt matter if she was already ten minutes from dying i took teem minutes to snap a photo should have taken 10 minutes taking her somwhere so she wouldnt go away like that no family, no mother no day, no people just a vulture and a ******** photojournalist i wish i were dead right now i wish i were dead that poor little baby this god god awful world im sorry i cant stop thinking of her never have never will cant forget how i ran with her like where was i going to really run i was twleve miles from nowhere i had no one to her to no window to pass her through out of harms way no tom there i was no tom there and then that tiny bag of bones just started to shake and it was over she died right in my hands the hands of the guy who took three minutes two minutes whatever a handful of seconds to photograph her and now she was gone tha tpoor littl girl in the god awful world i miss her i miss delial i miss the man i thought i was before i met her the man who would have saved her who would have done something who would have been tom maybe hes the one im looking for or maybe im looking for all of them
i miss u i love u
theres no second ive lived you can't call your own
Navy
I miss you. I love you. I don't deserve expect your forgiveness. I'm leaving tomorrow XXXXXXXXX though I plan to return. But who knows, right?
You've seen that place.
Guess I'm writng a will too. By the way I'm drunk. Sell the house, the film, everything I have, take it all. Tell the kids daddy loves/ loved them. I love them, I love you.
Why am I doing this? Because it's there and I'm not. I know that's a pretty shitty answer. I should burn down the place down, forget about it. But going afters omething like this is who I am. You know that.
If I wasn't like this, we never would hve met in the firstp lace becasue I never would have stopped my car in the middle of traffic, ran to the sidewalk, and asked you out.
No excuse, huh? Guess I'm just another b*****d abandoning XXXXXXX woman and kids for a big adventure. I should grow up, right? I accept that, I'd like to it, I've tried to do it, easier said/written than done.
I need to get back to that place one more time. I know something now and I just have to confirm it. Slowly the pieces have been coming together. I'm starting to see that place for what it is and it's not for cable shows or National Geographic.
Do you beleive in God? I don't think I ever asked you that one. Well I do now. But my God isn't your Catholic varietal or your Judaic or Mormom or Baptist or Seventh Day Adventist or whatever / whoever. No burning bush, no angels, no cross. God's a house. Which is not to say that our house is God's house or even a house of God. What I mean to say is that our house is God.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Think I've lost my mind? Maybe, maybe, maybe Maybe just really drunk. Pretty crazy you have to admit. I just made God a street address. Forget all that last part. just forget it. I miss you. I miss you. I won't reread this. If I do I'll throw it away and write somethign terse, clean and sober. And all locked up. You know me so so well. I know you'll strip out the alchohol fumes, the fear, the mistakes, and see what matters-a code to decipher written by a guy who thought he was speaking clearly. I'm crying now. I don't think I can stop. But if I try to stop I'll stop writing and I know I won't start again. I miss you so much. I miss Daisy. I miss Chad. I miss Wax and Jed. I even miss Holloway. And I miss Hansen and Latigo and PFC Miserette, Benton and Carl and Regio and 1st lieutenant Nacklebend and of course Zips and now I can't get Delial out of my head.
Delial, Delial, Delial--the name I gave to the girl int he photo that won me all the fame and gory, that's all she is karen, just the photo. And now I can't understand anymore why it meant so much to me to keep to keep her a secret -- a penance or something.Inadequate. Well there it's said. But the photo, that's not what I can't get out of my head right now.
Not the photo--that photo, that thing-- but who she was before one-sixtieth of a second sliced her out of thin air and won me the pulitzer though that didnt keep the vultures away i did that by swinging by tripodaround though that didnt keep her from dyding five years old daisy's age except she was pciking at a bone you should have seen her not the but her a little girl quatting in a field of rock dangling a bone between her fingers i miss miss miss but i didnt miss i got her along with the vulture in the background when the real vulture was the guy with the camera preying on her for his ******** pulitzer prize it doesnt matter if she was already ten minutes from dying i took teem minutes to snap a photo should have taken 10 minutes taking her somwhere so she wouldnt go away like that no family, no mother no day, no people just a vulture and a ******** photojournalist i wish i were dead right now i wish i were dead that poor little baby this god god awful world im sorry i cant stop thinking of her never have never will cant forget how i ran with her like where was i going to really run i was twleve miles from nowhere i had no one to her to no window to pass her through out of harms way no tom there i was no tom there and then that tiny bag of bones just started to shake and it was over she died right in my hands the hands of the guy who took three minutes two minutes whatever a handful of seconds to photograph her and now she was gone tha tpoor littl girl in the god awful world i miss her i miss delial i miss the man i thought i was before i met her the man who would have saved her who would have done something who would have been tom maybe hes the one im looking for or maybe im looking for all of them
i miss u i love u
theres no second ive lived you can't call your own
Navy
- House of Leaves, pg 389 -393
Mark Danielewski
![[ iDuck ]](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/26/d2/219d4b1749d226.png?t=1419999760_6.00_10 "[ iDuck ]")
Community Member