>>From: Belacqua
>>To:Perdita
>>Subject: Re: wittgenstein
>>Date: Mon, 13 Nov 2000

I'm really sorry you aren't feeling well. Those days when breathing is too much effort are no fun at all. It sucks that all I can say is that I hope so much that you feel better, but remember we have a deal, and it works both ways. I'd be just as upset if you left without me because I can't do it alone, either. Make a date, and I'll be there. I never
thought I'd live to 20, and I'm 7 months away from that date now. I’m really not very eager to stick around here much longer. If you need anything, please call me or e-mail or do something. I will do everything I can to help, whether it be humanly possible or not. If it's impossible, I'll try anyway.

I had a not so good night. I was halfway to falling asleep (which took over half an hour) when my friend called with modem troubles, and I got out of bed to go to his apartment to fix it. All that was wrong was that he had the phone cords in the wrong places, but he needed it to work that night, so I got up and did it. It took another hour to fall asleep, but what's sleep anyway? I never get enough.

I'm running a little late this morning, but I figured I'd try to offer whatever solace is possible to you and beg that you at least wait for me. I really hope you feel better.

I love you.
Belacqua

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>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: wittgenstein
>Date: Mon, 13 Nov 2000

Belacqua,

I've just returned to work from yet another extraordinarily useless session with the therapist. I guess I feel a little bit better, but I still feel like I didn't get to talk about what I wanted to talk about. But then again, if I started going on and on about Columbine or killing myself, they'd be bound to commit me for sure. I want to talk about blood and guts and how much I wish you were in Boston so we could make plans to destroy and conquer, but I can't do that. I feel comfortable talking about a lot of different things with a lot of different people these days, but I definitely still have this little voice in the back of my head that tells me not to go on about certain things. It's like I have this innate instinct to leave out the incriminating evidence.

Belacqua, I feel really comfortable writing just about anything to you now, but I still feel a little uncomfortable with what I'm about to say. I think it's something I have to ask you, though, so here goes. Have you ever wondered if it would make any difference if we were actually in the vicinity of one another? Do you wonder if there's a slight possibility that merely having someone who understands around all the time would make any difference as to how much we hate everything? I've been thinking about it, and I just can't seem to really come to a conclusion. I find myself just wishing I could see you when I'm writing to you or talking to you, and yet I wonder if that would make things better or worse. Would I still be able to say all the same things? Would I feel any better about going out into the void of daily life if I knew I could see you afterwards? I don't know. It's reassuring knowing you're out there somewhere, so I was just wondering. I'd be interested in your thoughts.

I'm having the kind of day where I keep looking at my hands and arms, and I keep getting repulsed by the sight of them because they're so fleshy, animated, and ALIVE. It makes me sick to my stomach. I feel like I just want to cut them off and make them go away so I don't have to see any extremity of my body continuing through the grind of those perpetual worldly monotonies. I feel like my hands betray me by actually doing whatever it is they're doing because my mind is so paralyzed that it doesn't want them to do anything and it's offended that they're doing things anyway. I don't know if that makes any sense or not, but that's the way it feels.

My entire diet today has been chocolate and coffee, and I still feel like I can barely move. That's definitely a sucky thing about anxiety. To calm the anxiety, they have to give you sedatives, but then your energy level can get so low it's almost negative. On a day to day basis, I'm so sedated that I can be perfectly flippant about some of the most disturbing things, but then I get frustrated about one other little thing, and it all goes to shit.

I love you.
Perdita