i don't know if ever i will find someone who will see what i'm saying about this postcard. it's a man falling off a cliff reaching for a letter you KNOW he won't catch. you know that little twig won't hold him. the dog knows. he's watching. and in all its hopelessness, in all its tragic pessimism, it's beautiful to me.

i don't care how many people i'll meet in life that raise an arm to crush my faith in people. it's not gonna. let it flicker all it wants as often as it wants, but never going away. i guess the man reaching out for some falling letter, some falling star is too much for me to put asside.

and some i wish i would have seen through earlier. and though i thought i would be in eternal chains, haunted, disturbed, the little man falling never left me. because if i can actually see something in morbid faces, if i can pull out purity from pessimism, then i'll be fine.

you're the one on the poster against all odds. you're the one who gave me the post card. the one who, on being asked "what if you can't?" said, "then i'll go and be a farmer."