I bought a bunch of whimsical post cards from a store on Hollywood and Vermont.
They were an impulse buy.
Because my life centers around the constant thought of death I don't have many friends.
Or people I talk to regularly.
Or at all.
So I'm trying to figure out what to do with these cards.
If you'd like one, then email me your address.
I'll write something about myself on it.
Something fucked up.
Encouragement that you aren't as worthless as you originally thought yourself to be.
Then mail it to you with no expectation of a return correspondence.
And when you receive the post card,
you can totally just laugh,
or,
say, "oh my," to yourself
before throwing the thing in the trash.
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