1.25.2010

dearest Marie - (alas) what troubles I have. . . !

The untastiest - certainly, dear (and tragically but again most certainly), the trashiest - of propositions, first gained its imminent momentum during the third movement (oh the grayest of movements, the inelegant autumnal turn, the sheer blissless oboe cackling, dear!). He was suggestive, oh my, and yes, quite clearly, and in a manner unfitting even a boorish marauder. He, without even the proper shame. I was taken, well, I was taken aback, and I must admit, even in the face of the most improper audiences I would refrain from such a noticeable response, such a crude, a cunning bastard - a wolf!

I blushed.

Oh dear, Marie, I did. I blushed. In such a heat I have not found myself, not nearly for perhaps ever, not so crudely acknowledged and discarded, abandoned to the bestial qualities that (and of this I am sure) have not adequate housing even in my corporal skin. No, if they are ever even squatting, perhaps, momentarily confused by the pristine contentment of order, purpose, and place. They would cower, those impetuous unnatural audiences, they would perish in the guise of this costume, forced into the backward woods of the insatiable mortal unfearing mite. Such is the house I keep! Such it is. That they, dear Marie, that they were, those blithering and unwanted carriages, oh my, that they were permitted the sole possession of my reaction, that I was, without the cultured hand, at once persuaded by the audience of my rigid enforcement and at once again, persuaded, acutely, by the other hands, by the false witnesses of this bleakness, that even in this caste, I am like all that is only ever breakable. I am at such a loss, such a dear loss of such failure at composure.

This is, as I witness, the most horrible of outcomes. I shall not leave the house, not but once, for this entire coming season. Of course I shall be terribly lonely, desperate indeed, for the companion of such an assembly as he commanded at that hall, induced to poetic composition by the dynastic mandate, brought into the fingers of the whitest of hands with ease and delicately bonded to the emotional destruction of the earthly prison. Such a joy, I had in his company, in the audience of such delicate and expanded vision. Only to be devastated, at that purest moment, of course, of such vulnerable disposition, by that brute, that unguarded baron - that lout. I shall not leave again, bar no occasion to even the coming festivities. I am ruined by such a man. I have been ruined by such a man.

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