Dear Walt Whitman,

Dear Walt Whitman,
You have recently given me a good dose of encouragement and perspective. Though we do not have a lot in common (I am female, straight, alive, and generally unappreciative), I feel that you related to me in a way today that allowed me to accept what I have secretly known all along: Nothing new is happening to me. Though I am in some ways unique, all of my worries, fears and discoveries are old hat. I'm not alone, I'm going to get through it, people understand and its going to be okay.
Thank you,
Myself

Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events,
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself.
~excerpt from Song of Myself, W.Whitman, 1881

"In God, I find the true myself." ~Peta

Dear Funk,

Dear Funk,
Funk, I wanted to offer a word of encouragement during this time of darkness. I understand that you were dealt a low blow. It may seem like you are at the end of your rope, alone in a sea of digitally sampled techno grooves and hip three minute ditties. I remember, your two best friends, R&B and Soul left you years ago for their new girlfriends Pop and Easy Listening. And now this. The death of the Godfather.
Funk, you will get through this. You will not die. You will get over this hump, and thrive in the years to come each time someone finds an LP copy of Gettin Down To It in a basement crate or spins Purple Rain on a bar Jukebox. Sure, you will show up in the chorus of a Chamillionare single and the kids won't recognise you. But its okay, because for every time that happens, someone will hear Funky Drummer for the first time, or dig out their old Parliament cassette from a box at their parent's house.
This time of year, concentrate on the gains instead of the losses, drink some Nog, and slap on Santa Clause Go Straight To the Ghetto.
Say It Loud,
A Woman or A Girl

Dear Juliane,

Dear Juliane,
I see that you have been drawn over to the darkside. I assume your letter to me says as much...it may even apologise, or attempt to justify. I wouldn't know, however, since I can't read the letter addressed to me, since you have your blog entries restricted. LAME!
Love,
Your Sister

Pressure

A selection from PostSecret 12/3/06:

Thank about this:

Do you ever feel pressure to make a statement (about ANYTHING)? What is the statement? How do you make it? What, in this process, do you not really want to do? How does this change who you are? Do you think your statement is made? What is the importance of making it? Is it worth it? Why?