Brian Matthew Kessler
XXXX Carol Road
Union, New Jersey 07083
(908)/687-XXXX (House)
(908)/687-XXXX (Bedroom)
December 4, 1992
NYPress
295 Lafayette St.
The Puck Bldg.
9th Fl.
Box 48038
NY, NY 10012
Dear 48038,
Sorry about my manner of addressing you. Let me make it quite clear that I have no delusions that you are not a number, you are a free man. Strike that... if you were a man, free or otherwise, I would not be writing this letter... you are not a number, you are a free woman... somehow that doesn't sound aesthetically pleasing, but I will ignore that for the moment. The reason I address you in such a poor manner is obvious... I have no other way of addressing you... I guess I could address you as "green-eyed psycho-magnet", but that phrase takes too long, even if it is much shorter than including this needless explaining of why I address you as "48038" which includes the other possible reference for address... there is probably a better reason, since this one seems to create a paradox, but to find it out, you'd probably have to waste large sums of money in people who have some delusion that they can figure my mind out and then still have no clue as to what it is.
Funny that you should mention that you have green eyes... Aristilion logic demands that either someone has green eyes or they don't have green eyes, being that I fall into the later catagory, we are opposites, and due to the laws governing magnetic forces, we should attract... and at least from my perspective, this theory, based on many forms on non-sequitars (and therefore holding about as much water as the sun on an especially hot solar day), holds true. I have always found green eyes to be a plus (if I actually notice them... eye color is usually the last thing I notice about a person and I can honestly say that I only know my eyes are hazel, my grandmother's are green, and my brother's and mother's eyes are blue, I have little if any idea what color anybody's eyes are (actually, in reality, I don't really know my eyes are hazel... I only believe them to be... true knowledge is impossible)). I don't really know why I like green eyes... because other then on eyes, traffic lights, and a very small number of T-shirts, mostly done by Overkill (whose music is not as good as their T-shirts, although is not that bad either), I tend to hate the color green. I strongly suspect my attraction for green eyes may be rooted in some form of Oedipus complex aimed at my grandmother instead of my mother, but it may be because it is relatively rare and I tend to be attracted to people who I find relatively unusual, if not unique (I despise clones). I think my hatred for the color may be due to the
easiness of associating it with vegetables and the military, both of which I despise.
On the topic of color, I tend to hate all colors except red, which is only good in very small quantities (but never on traffic lights). I like shades, preferably black or at least a dark gray. In fact, I strongly believe that regardless of how ugly anyone may be, they look a million times better in black (although they may still look ugly) and nothing turns me on more than an attractive woman dressed in all black (WOW! It just occurred to me, if things don't work out with you, I should try meeting girls at funeral homes... they'll be dressed in black and possibly looking for someone to help lift their misery (just kidding... I would never knowingly take advantage of someone emotionally troubled)).
On the topic of clones, I once met a very interesting homeless person who claimed responsibility for the destruction of three planets while under the employment of Darth Vader... he actually only personally hit the panic button for one of the three planets, but anyway, he was very confused because people who he thought died kept coming back as clones and he was forgetting which were which.
As you've probably figured out, you've attracted yet another psycho... not only am I psychotic, I'm also neurotic... but don't panic, I'm listed as relatively harmless in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
My age is legally only nineteen, which is very misleading since I am much older than that in terms of life experience. People who meet in person, who judge me by sight tend to guess around 24 (usually... although they have ranged from 18 to 24)... people who met me over the modem (when I was 14 or 15 and still into using it) guessed in the neighborhood of 30 to 40 (age is much harder to guess correctly when judged by actions and not by using appearance and voice). In the past my age has scared off several people who I've been interested in... most notably a 28 year old who felt like she'd be a cradle robber, and wound up dating a 29 year old who did things that were less mature than I could imagine a teenager who just hit puberty would do (this was about a year ago) and a 21 year old who, upon learning my age, lied that she had a husband in order to say she wasn't interested (this was about a month ago).
My appearance... I have long brown hair (although the color is somewhat seasonal... it tends to be a dark brown in the winter and then go towards a red-brown as the sun bleaches it with the coming of summer.) I have hazel eyes that usually look brown, but I have been accused of having green eyes in a few rare instances. I am probably 5'11", but attempts to measure me have varied from 5'6" to 6'. I probably weigh about 135 lb., but I tend to loose weight over the summer and I might have lost some weight. I usually wear gray jeans, black T-shirts, black boots, a watch with a very thick leather band, a spiked bracer with a pentagram (which is almost a trademark for me among certain social circles), an eyeball ring and another ring with a crystal, a necklace with a crystal, a Baphomet pennant, and a third necklace with an Egyptian symbol of virility. I have a belt with a demonic skull belt buckle. I also have a wallet with a chain. When I wear a jacket it is usually either a black trench coat, or a very customized motorcycle jacket, that I personally think ranks among the very nicest I've seen. Not to toot my own horn, but many girls I have encountered have felt that I look hot... some I know because they personally told me and others because I overheard conversations when they didn't know I was listening... most of them were rejected because I tend to be very picky and while many lived up to my standards in appearance, they failed when it came to personality.
While my parents, many of my friends, and most especially the Housing Offices at Stockton State College would debate it, I am relatively stable, I just have creative solutions for potential problems and strongly believe that the extremes leave the biggest and best impressions... ok... so I admit that I have tried to kill three people, including one of my best friends, but that was because they deserved it and I got along with each of them better afterwards.
I can be playful when provided with the right atmosphere (which does not necessarily mean an atmosphere where civilized people might find it appropriate and it usually doesn't). I am independent to the point where I have not even conformed to nonconformity. I am capable of thought to the point where I overanalyze every little thing.
I am a very cynical romantic... cynical to the point where I doubt this letter will get to you, or if it does get to you, it will either be discarded as junk mail or if you do choose to respond, you will bait me into your bedroom and kill me with an ice pick while we are making love... romantic to the point were I have only allowed myself to indulge in carnal pleasures with only four of the hundreds of women I have met, and with the exception of the last were all very special to me at the time. (The last was a fluke based on an increasingly cynical view towards love and romance and a serious number of chemical imbalances caused by withdrawal from serious sex addiction which began last July when I allowed myself to indulge in the second of the four).
I am not much of a coffee fiend, but every once in a while I get an urge for a mocha, and invariably, I will go order it in a restaurant where some waiter who is hardly capable of English will find it impossible to comprehend the notion of mixing half a cup of coffee with half a cup of hot chocolate.
If I continue for much longer I will probable kill an acre of rain forest at a minimum and give the post man (or woman) a hernia... furthermore, I will run out of ink and overheat my computer. If you want to know more, my number and address is at the top of the letter and I do strongly hope you call me. I'm available to do something almost whenever you would like (until I start going to Hunter this Spring). While I don't currently live in The City, I am there often and if I'm not there, I'll go there with the least bit of incentive... the possibility of finding romance is currently at the top of my list of priorities (followed only by inciting riots leading to anarchy and the destruction of all organized religion). Furthermore, I should be getting an apartment Downtown before school starts.
Your's truly,
Brian Matthew Kessler
P.S. By way of numbers, I am 2011, 580, 31, 13, 40, or simply 4, but I refuse to let you know why unless you contact me. If you don't learn why, until the day that you die, you may be forced to wonder at the meaning, driving you insane, to drastic chemical abuse, and eventual suicide. Whenever you see any of these six numbers, it will remind you of me and this puzzle of which only I can answer, and then, I can only answer it, if I actually can remember when you ask me.
P.P.S. If you call my bedroom number, do not be scared off by my answering machine if you reach it.
P.P.P.S. Caution: This letter will self destruct if exposed to temperatures of one thousand degrees Fahrenheit for any length of time.
P.P.P.P.S. If I don't stop "P"ing, you might be misled to think I have something wrong with my bladder. Don't be.
P.P.P.P.P.S. Have you ever seen so many "P.S."s on a single letter?
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Or did you even want to?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Are you beginning to wonder if this letter will ever end?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Do you want it to?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Are you sure?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Have you actually continued reading this far?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Is this getting absurd?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Do you like it this way?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. If not, I apologize and hope you don't hold it against me.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. If so, that is good, since I plan to keep going for awhile.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Maybe I'll fill up another whole sheet of paper.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. On second thought, this will be the last line.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I lied; this is the last line.