Enme

I signed a contract for a one album record deal with Mash Entertainment on Tuesday night.

The cottage I saw a few weeks back has become available and I will be able to move into it next month, around this time.

A protracted, painful, epiphanal fight with my parents last night left my sister in tatters and me convinced my family is in a sad state.

They feel it may be best we both move out.

Still feeling raw, so it's hard to cover everything and explain. At this point, I just want to stare into the horizon and the future.

A future, according to my parents, that may never include an Egyptian wife or husband for my sister.

Should I look for a new horizon? Smoke marijuana or crack so it changes color and form?

I've changed my mind about publishing the letters, however edited, on here. A very close and wise friend clarified some hidden messages to my blog post about this earlier. He said that although I said I would write the letters away from the blog, the underlying message is that I wanted to gain some attention to it and perhaps fish for sympathy for how hard this all is.

He's right.

In light of what I said in the first paragraph, I want to illustrate the difficulty I'm in. It will be once off and I won't post about lessons learnt or insight gained from writing the letters.

An excerpt:

The greatest irony is that this letter was never meant to be addressed to you.

The first letter is now to you. I was going to write a letter like this to every girl who I’ve ever cared for, loved, or been with. It was to resolve my feelings, pour ointment over the wounds of my heart, and let it bake in healing so that it may be ready for you. It was going to be a long line of letters.

To my greatest horror, the girl I was meant to pursue turns out to be taken. She will be engaged very soon.

This is not how it was supposed to be.