ID Number: 1017 From: bobbysroom <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: This post was started back in March of this year, but please read.
Date: Sunday, May 11 2003 - 08:36:16
I am sorry to hear that you worry about such trivial things as age.
We are all eternal spirits you know. Do not concern yourself with
financial worries. You may have made a lot of money being a beautiful
and charming girl, but you haven't stayed where you are at because of
your looks, it's your brain that has taken you this far and it will
continue to be your greatest asset.
I don't if you will even read this posting, and I'm not quite sure
why I am writing it. I do know that when I met you in San Diego, at
the Comic-Con, you were nice to me and didn't seem offended when all
I wanted to do was say hi. I am (was) a member on your Yahoo website
and I just came by to say hello. You gave me time to talk to you like
a real person and you never asked me to buy a picture or anything
else. I don't expect you to know me, I just wanted to let you know,
and the rest of those out there, that you really are a kind person.
You see I was actually there by chance of fate. I had read your
posting that you were going to be there, but I had no intention of
going. Even though I wanted to meet you in person, and that was
probably my one and only chance of doing so, I was not in a financial
position to be able to go. But as I said, fate did play a role in my
being at the convention.
The short version is a friend of mine got me a volunteer job working
at the convention. It took me some time but I did finally meet you.
Now at this point I am sure anyone reading this is a bit confused as
to wether I have a point to all of this. Well if you, and anyone
still reading this, will indulge me just a bit more you will see
where I am going with this short story.
You see Lisa, I am a real believer in fate and destiny. Right now I
am contemplating my destiny in a very serious, or rather final way.
You are like an enigma to me. I realized this when I read your
biography. You are half Japanese and Anglo Saxon, as was my first
girlfriend. Your father was, or still is a dentist. Now my father is
an engineer, but I am adopted, and my biological father was finishing
his dentistry training when he got my biological mother pregnant.
From what little information I have, both my biological parents were
going to UCSD, and although my mother wanted to keep me, she ended up
letting my biological father talk her into putting me up for
adoption. Personally if I would have had any say in it I would have
opted for abortion, but of course that was illegal in1966.
That may sound a bit drastic, but if you born with a mental illness
as I was and had spent the past 14 years with a chronic daily
headache, then being alive might not sound so good to you right now.
In fact this letter was originally started back on March 2nd of this
year. I am just now picking up on it and I don't know if I will
You see I have already taken my medication for the night and it
knocks me out within an hour of taking it. So much so that I have to
wear adult diapers. I should be writing this in the morning, or after
I take my morning medications. One of them is a stimulate and that is
when I am most awake. But right now is when my mind is relaxed and I
can try and say what it is that I am trying so desperately trying to
Here it is. I will be in San Diego this summer and I will be
attending a convention of a different sort. One I am sure you would
not likely find on your calender. It's the DBSA (Depression and
Bipolar Support Alliance) convention, being held in Long Beach this
So here is my invitation to you and any of your fans. You can get the
information on the web easier than I can try and put in a hyper link.
Just go to the DBSA home page and you can get all the details. I hear
there might be a talent show, and I might do a stand-up bit if
they'll let me. It would be to die for.
By the way. Do you ever get to talk to Mr. Hefner, I would bet he is
a type one bipolar. He's probably one of those lucky bipolars that
don't get depressed much, they just have all kinds of energy. I bet
he drinks mostly soft drinks loaded with caffeine and stays away from
the alcohol. I know everyone thinks he's snorting the finest Scotch
whiskey, but I bet it's most likely diet Pepsi that's his drink of
The truth is, most people would like to think you were a souse with
Dr. feel good keeping you up all night with those bunnies, than for
the world to know you had a mental disorder. Which is nothing more
than a chemical imbalance, not all that different than diabetes.
Oh, I just realized, I haven't taken my med's yet, so I better go do
that. Like I said in the beginning of this letter-post, I don't know
if Lisa Marie Scott will even read this, but if she (you) do, I hope
we meet again sometime and have the chance to talk about the little
things in life. I'm in Alabama now, living with my parents and I
finally got my SS approved so I am no longer a total leach on them.
I take that back, they would be very upset if they knew I said that,
but sometimes it's just the way I feel. In fact I sometimes see
myself as a foil in Sr. W. S.'s plays, as the young Laertes when his
father, Lord Polonius gives him his words of wisdom, more like the
words of a bitter old man, (which he is of course). But as tragically
as this play is, the words most people know are when he says at the
end of long dialog, "to thine own self be true".
Hey don't laugh, I had a college professor quote those words as
scripture from the holy bible. To thine own self be true, to be or
not to be, all from a man that was Knighted by a virgin queen. A man
that could only make love to his beloved queen with words. Actually
somebody might catch me on that one, because I don't know for a fact
that Queen Elizabeth I even knew who he was. From what I gather, the
title Sir William Shakespear may be all wrong.
Oh well that's it from good old Alabama, I'm going to take my med's
and post this thing and hope that someone that reads this will make
it to the convention. You know, so y'all can see what real crazy
people look like. . . laughs on exit.
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