TOUCHMEDONOTTOUCHMEIAMALIVE

Thursday, September 10, 1970

Fig. 016

As it so seems to be the most frequent thing to appear here, another letter from AA.

My dear,

It does seem that it's been a while. I miss you. I need you. I am still recoiling from your last blow. I think that is what has me so shaken. You know I only get messy when I'm shaken. Not that these fools can stop me anyway. But I feel like they don't have the right to know. These women mean nothing to anyone. They are simply cast molds of you. Appearance, that is. You know I'd only whet my intellectual appetite with the real thing, my love. I just need something for the carnal. You won't provide, so I do it myself. Most of them don't even mind. So what does it matter, the few who do? They aren't exactly productive citizens anyway. I'm doing the world a favor. I'm sorry, dear. I'm babbling. Please, just come home. You're needed now more than ever. For my sanity.

Yours,
Admiral Admiral