I am composing this letter to inform you that you suck balls. (Though I’m sure not literally, because men would find you much more appealing if you did.) It is too bad that your low self-esteem has alienated the people you love from you, because from what I can see, your wild imagination has gotten the best of you, and there is no sanity left.
Your mad conceptualizations tend to make you look like an escapee from the loony bin, and it takes all that I have in me not to call the authorities and have you re-committed. I hear the beds there can be quite lonely, so I understand completely why you felt the need to flee; however, if your crazed activities are to continue, I will have no choice in the matter.
Your spelling is atrocious (that reason alone is enough to have you arrested, in my opinion), and I realize that strong spirits are probably the reason for this infraction, so I firmly urge you to seek treatment for your obvious alcoholism; if only to keep people from thinking you didn’t pass the 7th grade.
I must relate to you the fact that no one is out to get you, and that the “issues” you admit that you are having are solely of your own disgraceful doings. (Sadly, I believe said issues are apparent only to you, anyway; you may find that these issues take care of themselves if you take your pills faithfully.)
In closing, I must quote Margaret Fuller- “This woman envies me; she says, ‘How happy you are; so free, so serene, so attractive, so self-possessed!’ I say not a word, but I do not look on myself as particularly enviable.”
To you I say, Get happy, get free, get serene; and then you will be attractive and self-possessed. Because your non-serenity is making you beautifically-impaired.
Thank you and please don’t come and kill me in the night,
P.S. If you think this letter is concerning you, it probably is.