Fan Mail

Dearest you,

I love your work. I wrote this letter with little intention of it being read, but as you can tell... I found you. Do you like how I typed it and how I had to drop it in your mailbox so that way you couldn't find any finger prints to ruin this? Oh yes, no worries, I wore gloves. I love gloves. Not like the kind you wear when you do your hobby, but rather knitted gloves. Speaking of which, how do you do what you do with so much stealth and style? I heard that you were indirectly on television the other day, again. No worries I recorded it (yeah Direct TV!). I'll probably find it on Netflix when you become more of a “household name”. So why did you cut your hair? I noticed it the other day when you were doing your hobby and I have to say although I do like the old hair-do better, this new look still suits you.

New looks. That reminds me I never knew you shopped at Kohl's at all! I started buying things from there ever since I just happen to see you walking in and out the other week.

I love the inside of your house, by the way. I would have never guessed you lived so humbly. Aside the awful stench from your basement, your place is amazing. The closet in your room is so big that I can sleep in their and watch you at night. Your breath does smell nice when you sleep, though. I started using Crest ever since I found out you used it.

I swear we have so much in common. We even watch the same programs! I thought I was the only one who enjoyed the History Channel. And how we both indulge in painting. I love how you paint the aftermath of your hobby. Definitely a nice touch.

Why don't you own a car? I see you walk and take buses. Would you like to use mine? Perhaps it will make it easier to do the hobbies you like doing so much.

You don't mind if I call it a hobby do you? I hope you don't. I'd be little sad since what you do can't be classified. What if I gave it a different name? What would I call it? What would you call it? In my most humble opinion I believe what you do is called:

Art.

Yes definitely art. Beautiful, in fact.

I remember when I first saw you. Your older hair do. Your trench coat. You seemed to do something that I always wanted to do, but you did it with the utmost PERFECTION! How do you accomplish such tasks? How did you get her to scream and cry for mercy and show no remorse? How did you get the blade so far in that would be stuck but et you pulled it out with much ease? How did you lure her? Why did you do it? Oh. Too personal? You don't have to answer that, if you don't want to. Anyway. How did you purchase that unique curvy knife and not get traced? How did you manage to pull off such art and not get caught?

Wow. Lots of “how did you this”, and “how did you that”. At least it proves I'm curious. Perhaps I can even become your apprentice. I could learn how to perfect your art!

I could learn the same things you do. Add my own style. Add my own twists. Heck, maybe even add my own signature. Or as the say: My “MO”. Hopefully they won't catch me because if they do, they'll catch you too. Not to say I'll tell them you were the artist of all that beauty you've don these past few months, but I'm currently using your spare jacket as a pillow in this massive closet of yours.

You have become an inspiration to me and I'm thinking about taking on this “art project”
of yours.

Oh the possibilities.

With love,
Your biggest fan.