Dear Waldo,
Lately I've been scraping by the skin of my teeth just to make ends meet. And possibly relishing in the highs of Mother Nature's fruits and weeds. Yet I think that you think that I am a lost and useless cause and that my purpose has no tangible reason. I think that you think I don't matter in this time and space, collectively. I think I know that you think there's no hope for a "me" near a "you".
