40th Letter to Gross

**After a few extremely optimistic letters to Gross we had a snow fall up here and spring was pushed back. People who would actually read this probably know who is in my dream though maybe not well enough. As a point of interest I’ve almost finished compiling all our correspondence (there are still a few hand written notes and two major hand written pieces missing) if anyone wants a copy let me know.**

Let us be realistic its still February. My false spring explodes into tinny white flakes. Things are slow and lonely, sometimes I still see my self as that fool on the hill. When you become a wise fool like me atop your own mountain you will learn that you only want to come back down. . . Where the people are. But you have been there before we may even have climbed a few of those mountains together. I thought of a false parable to admonish you slightly for not writing but I’ll let it die. I’ve lost the want of little bouts of anger its hard being this level headed. Its Sunday and already I’m waiting for the weekend. Are you coming back for break. In my mind I wont see you for a year or so. Sadly not that much different then what its been in the more present past. I dream recently:

A childhood friend and I prepare for a long journey. We sit on the step near the front door. She is a frozen soft drink. She whispers “Do you want to know me?” from somewhere in her plastic body. I say that there will be time for all that later.

I awake knowing as much as when I fell asleep. I feel hollow after dreams like that as I stumble for my notebook in a painful half strong resolve to record my own hollowness. At least I am actively sleeping. Perhaps that’s all I ever do. I am truly obsessive and tether myself to the past. Only the women haunt my dreams though. You know in a desperate moment I wanted to drink deep from her? I hesitated. I faltered. How do you tell someone you want to drink deep from there being? How do you say “Yes, I want to know you” and have them understand? How do you get them to ask “Do you want to know me?”? It only seems to happen in my dreams. . .

Eternally Thirsty,

Your Brother