A letter from April 18th, 2015

I don't skip class or sneak out or take mind-altering substances but I feel like there's a part of me that wishes I did, like being a part of something a little stupid is better than being part of nothing at all, and if things had turned out just the smallest bit differently I would have blue hair and a dealer harassing me about money. Maybe I'm just a poser but at the very least I'm suffering from a severe disconnect between mind and spirit. Sometimes I want to email the university and tell them I won't be attending in the fall and find the nearest freight train to hop onto. I want to get into fights with train yard security and let hours of time pass by with the endless, pointless fields of the American West, feeling like I'm doing something by doing nothing at all. I want to leap between train cars because at this point being dead seems like it wouldn't be too much different from being alive so I might as well scare myself into valuing my own life, at least for a little while.