A Letter From Self

Nothing hit in last night’s attack.But this is common with imaginary wars.I know.Today is Sunday and the morning was more than I expected. The sky was blue and everything was green. The trees, the grass, the leaves, and all the colors of Earth are alive in springtime and showing themselves off in full bloom.I am doing my best. Or better yet, at least I can say that I have managed to remain consistent. At least with this. I am still consistent with coming here or to sit with you, if there is such a thing.All of this, my letters, my dialogues, and journals, and my internal truths and my external dilemmas are all alive and well and still real to me.So are you. This is a beautiful morning, or picturesque to say the least. I was driving earlier and headed north down an old familiar street known as Merrick Avenue.I used to live there. Remember?I used to live in different places.I lived with different people.And I knew different enemies.It seems more apparent that I lived through different…