#piperkansas

[sidneylewis-blog]

Letter 4# - You don't know

Dear Kipper,

Aloha. Cute.

Fourth letter, huh? How close is that till us meeting, if you don’t mind me asking? I think the more I speak with you – write with you, whatever – the more I kind of want to know who you are. So I can give you a hug or something. If that’s alright, anyway. I don’t know if you’d want me to.

I do feel comfortable in your company, I really do. Midnight comes and passes for me, I’m usually sleeping by maybe two a.m., but at times I get up to four a.m. Maybe it’s dangerous to stay up for so long, but memories infiltrate my dreams and leave me screaming in my sleep anyway. I hate the memories, they have all of me, and I still don’t know how to get myself back. Did you know that I’m not allowed near matches or stoves or the Bunsen burner? I’m strictly kept away from fire.

Right on, physics does suck.

You’re not being too whiny. You can whine to me, I’m going to read it all and I don’t mind if you whine through a whole letter, as long as you’re getting out all that you feel, because you kind of need to.

That was lame, I already finished my math homework, and I do hate it, I really do, and I don’t know why. I saw that movie! It made me want to join an A Capella group. Plus it gave me incentive to learn Cups, which isn’t that hard believe it or not. I spent a day putting off writing this and learning it. Maybe I’ll show you someday. I just do it alone, and it feels useless only doing things that I think are cool when I’m all by myself.

I’ll give you a name then. Hm. Well I guess I’d call you Alaric because it’s close to the word mask in Hungarian. I know a little Hungarian because one of my great aunts used to speak it. It’s a pretty cool language. I think it works, because I don’t really know who you are. Plus it sounds like a pretty badass name.

You’ve not made me want to tear my hair out yet, actually, except maybe because you don’t see how truly good you are, you just see the contempt that other people seem to have for you for varying reasons. But the hatred is just because of the mask you wear, it really is, because if they saw you like I did then you’d not have to worry about any of that. My dad can be fun sometimes, one time every time I had a bite of dinner he’d make a joke and try to make me spit it out. He hasn’t done it again because my mother got mad, but it was fun at the time.

PLETHORA.

I don’t know if I like the idea of being predictable, doesn’t that make me easier to read for stalkers, and then they’ll know if I’ll run away when they corner me and thenthey’ll murder me or something. It doesn’t sound very nice. But I get what you mean, I’m quiet enough so that people don’t really seem to realise I see all those things that they do that they think are private. I can usually predict when one of the pretty mini girls is going to whip out her phone and text about our hot Chemistry professor. It’s a very refined skill that I possess, I guess.

I don’t think I’ll be saying much like that, not until I’m shaking with rage. (Oh god please don’t let that happen.)

I keep a reading list because it exceeded from a list I could just remember or keep as a note on my iPhone. It’s typed up on my laptop and I have a spare copy in my sock drawer. I know, most people keep suspicious things in their sock drawer, I keep my book list... Oh, and a lighter. I know I shouldn’t have it, but it was more to defy my parents and prove to myself that I could be near it and not set the house on fire.

I wouldn’t laugh, not really, some people are always looking for escape and so they miss what has always been in front of them. Like in some romantic comedy movie where the girl is so in love with the boy and theboy just doesn’t see it and then he realises it and it’s almost too late and oh no she’s boarding a plane to Paris or New York or something I’ve got to stop her and then he thinks he missed her flight but ALAS, SHE’S NOT LEFT BECAUSE SHE COULDN’T LEAVE HIM AND THEY KISS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AIRPORT. I’m sorry that was totally off track, sometimes the hand writes whatever the hell the hand wants to write, whether or not it’s completely disregarding the current letter topic. That was a stupid thing to say, but it made me laugh, so at least that’s one of us laughing.

You still have a while till you’re properly grown up I guess, we’re still teenagers, we have time to continue to grow up and change and mould ourselves into the people we really want to be. You don’t have to keep being the person with the mask, y’know. You can just be you and everyone is going to be fine with that, and if not, screw them, because from now on you’ve got me. From the moment I received that letter you had me. It feels so nice to have someone make me feel important.

I didn’t really think about that before, I went back and forth from wanting to grow up or wanting to get younger, it really depended on the events of the day to be honest.

Being rude helps you relax? Wow. I think that maybe even if it does make you feel good to hurt people, it can’t really be making you happy, can it? Please, tell me, because I can’t imagine being happy to upset people these days, unless they were trying to hurt me. I think usually people like hurting little siblings and stuff, but I don’t know many that like to hurt or upset people who aren’t serial killers. (Scratch that, I don’t know anyone, I don’t know any serial killers... I hope.) I don’t think it’s silly or dumb, I just question it, and I hope that doesn’t upset you.

I am totally crazy, insane, foolish and passionate. But thank you for that little line, it’s my favourite.

I don’t mean to creep you out, I just take what I get from what you tell me about yourself and how you feel and repeat it back to you in a way which might make you understand how I perceive you too. It’s not that great advice, I’m no psychologist, and I’m not getting paid to help, but I’m trying, and it’s good to see that me trying is enough for you.

You know, you’re just scared to find out about who you are, I think, and once you let go of being scared, you’ll find out you’re a lot less scary and horrible and other bad things than you thought.

I know I go on and on about how you should change things and move on and yadda yadda. But I understand, I do. I should move on from the mediocre friends that I currently have, but I don’t with fear that there isn’t going to be anything else. One of them made a joke about my panic attack the other day and then frowned at me, asked if it was too soon and laughed. And the worst part? I just laughed with them even though I wanted to tackle them and rip their hair out. I just left it alone, of course I did, I’m a total coward.

I think for a while we’re going to continue lying to ourselves till we can really find out who the hell we are and change what we need to change. One day you and I are going to fix it all, I promise you that.

I’d try and figure out your name, but I’m trying to avoid thinking about it all together. You’ll let me know when you want to, and if I figure it out myself it’s just not the same, it takes away the things that’s letting you say whatever you want. When you want to tell me, it won’t change the dynamic we have, it’ll only make us stronger.

I’m sure you can’t be that bad, and even if you are, singing isn’t a talent that people just have usually, people train for years and years before they’re as good as the people we see on TV. I considered going to vocal training once, but I really don’t think it’d be that good having someone judge everything you do when you sing. In fact it’d make me nervous.

He did? Wow. When you break up with him, maybe take someone with you? Do you have any male friends that could kick his ass? Or is he just that strong that it won’t even matter? Because if he is, maybe you should tell someone about what he does beforehand, like a police officer or something, just so they know who’s to blame if something happen. Oh god, I don’t want anything to happen. If I was you I’d probably do it over the phone like a coward, but that’s just me. Doesn’t lying get tiring? It must, it must really freaking suck to have to continue on and lie and pretend that it doesn’t hurt when it does, and I’m so sorry you have to do that. One day I hope you can move on from that.

My parents are okay, I don’t think I’m that bad to them, but they just don’t understand at all, they never do. My mother is always trying to break into the little mother’s club run by the ladies of the church and my dad just wants me to achieve the things that he didn’t. I love them, I really do, they’re just kind of ignorant to how other people care.

I am as fucked up as I make myself seem, I think, but I suppose it’s a matter of opinion really.

Tex need a good slap across the face, to be honest. Who does that? Seriously? I need to know who this girl is as soon as you tell me who you are. I assume I’ll know as soon as you tell me who you are but if not, you gotta tell me so I know who to glare at during class when I’ve got nothing better to do. You’re not that bad, some of the people at our school are little idiots.

They spoke about me? Wow. I mean I knew the girls in our grade liked to bitch from what I’d heard in the bathroom. But wow... Um. Okay.

I don’t meant to get upset about it, but I’m doing it anyway, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.

Do you smoke regularly? I don’t know much about the party scene since I’ve only been invited to a birthday for a snotty little bitch in our grade and she had it at her McMansion so pretty much everyone was invited, it was crap and I left an hour in after someone threw a drink at me because I spoke to her boyfriend for two seconds.

You have me for therapy, I’m not qualified or anything but you have me.

Don’t punch her with metal on you, god you’d go to jail or something.

He’s not fake, I promise you. He psychoanalyses everyone else he sees. But I don’t mind you insulting my father. He sucks sometimes anyway.

I’m going to ignore what you just said, for the both of us, okay?

I don’t do it, usually. I don’t think about it usually, I’ve done it maybe twice tops, but I stopped because I was terrified I’d just keep doing it. No one noticed, I’m pretty sure, it was the middle of winter and long sleeves were the norm. No one saw and the scars are just barely there, but they exist.

Please, if she says that, promise me you’ll actually punch me in the face. People like her are the reason that those kind of movies get ruined. Oh, no it’s really good. They made a movie for god knows why, but the guy who wrote it wrote the script and directed it, so trust me, it’s not ruined, it very much isn’t. Logan Lerman was very good, yes, but Ezra Miller was kind of the star of it for me, he played Patrick so well, and Emma Watson was perfect too. I cried in the cinema, and I’m glad that almost no one was inside because otherwise it would have been moderate embarrassing when the lights come back up.

I like ice cream. I’m more of a pastry girl when it comes to deserts, but I like choc mint ice cream a lot. What’s your favourite flavour?

I have a cousin who’s a vegan. She’s insane, I swear. And that Kipper guy I mentioned, that’s one of her ex-boyfriends. They’re all insane.

How does one dye their hair with Kool Aid? I went dye shopping today, I’m going to hide it in my sock drawer with the lighter. For a second there I was going to agree with you and say yeah I am white what of it?

But I get you now. I think you’d be like a purple. A really red purple. Because you’re like red, but you’ve got that little bit of blue in you, and that’s the sadness because of Red, and Tex and your mask.

I didn’t leave, he understood that I wasn’t going to lie down and deal with it. I think he made a breakthrough.

No, the thing is, I did something, and I’ve been told what it was, but I just can’t remember it properly. I get flashes and nightmares of what happened but never the actual thing.

Okay, when I find out your name, I promise to treat you the same, if not better.

 - Sidney

[sidneylewis-blog]

Letter 3# - A light in the dark.

Dear Kipper,

I still don’t like that nickname, it really isn’t growing on me. I should get to pick your nickname. But then again I named the first pet I ever had after it’s species. I had a cat that I named kitty... But then I hada dog, and I decided, as a genius seven year old that I would name him Wolf. My future children will be so happy with their names.

I’ll let you in on a secret: I did smile. I also chuckled a bit and my father frowned at me because he was watching a very serious dramatic movie, so I had to leave the room. I’m currently sitting on my bed with my music turned up really loud. All the lights are off so I’m kind of relying on the light of my iPod when I go over things, so forgive me if there’s like, a plethora of mistakes. (Boom. One of my favourite words is plethora, because people never know what I’m saying.) (I was studying earlier, forgive me.)

My words pack a punch that I don’t intend. I want to take the things I say back but it’s not really that easy. You don’t deserve it, you’re just as perplexed as me when it comes to life, so who am I to call you something like that. I’ll add Before I Fall to my reading list. (hint: It’s a very long list) I’m currently reading On The Road, and that’s pretty good so far. I like knowing that you read books. People who can read books without getting bored are usually the best kinds of people, in my opinion anyway.

Being rude isn’t good. Not for me. It doesn’t help me, and it doesn’t help me feel any better, it’s why I try to avoid being rude. I swear quite a bit inside my head, I can’t really help it, the words just come out when I’m upset or angry. Or even just in the middle of conversation. I’m not as innocent as I seem. (Do I seem innocent? I mean innocent people don’t have problems like I do. Psychopaths aren’t innocent. But I don’t think I’m at that level. Not even a sociopath, which seems like the more interesting of the two. I’m just crazy.)

But you care, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t tell me. You care about how people feel about you but you just haven’t done anything to change it yet. I think you’ve wired yourself a certain way, and it’s the only way you know how to get by, so you push on being the person you think people expect, thinking that the power you can hold by staying that way will keep you happy. But I don’t think it does. I know it doesn’t, from what you’ve written to me.

There is a lot no one knows about me, and I like to keep things private because I don’t really think anyone needs to know these things. I tell you some of these things because you open up to me. It has to work both ways to work at all.

‘Kipper’ will forever be a source of conversation in these letters it seems. I’m not being mean, merely stating a fact, I’m great at fucking up. (Excuse my language.) Talents? Not really, I sing every now and then, but not really for anyone. One time I went out of town to an open mic night and that was nice, but when I got home I realised that nothing would change afterwards. No one I knew was there and I’d done nothing to change myself in the eyes of my peers. But at least, it made me happy.

I was going to have a sibling once, but unfortunately that didn’t go as planned. It was a miscarriage, and it really got my mother down for a while, but she tells me she’s content with just having me. I know she isn’t. They want to adopt, but I don’t know how well it’s going, we’ll see.

I’m more than okay with writing to you. It gives me something to do on the weekends. Sometimes I think I should plan these letters, but they’re always better when I just write and never stop.

Obnoxious people suck too.

If you want to stick by Tex, that’s all your decision, but I think that, by the time we get through a certain amount of letters and we start to discover things about ourselves and each other, that you’ll be able to let her go. Just like you’ll be able to let Red go, if I do anything to help you, then I’m going to help you let go of them. Maybe you should write letters to her or something. Then destroy them, or send them to me and you’ll feel a little more like you’re getting it all out? Because simply telling me about her must not be all that fulfilling. (Although I think what would be really fulfilling for me would be punching her or something...)

Don’t punch her that was stupid advice.

Bubble metaphor is A+.

I think a balance of caring but accepting it and being kind and caring would be good. Just not being where they’re at would be fantastic. I’m sorry... Got a little carried away. I don’t think I will do them, not right now, maybe not ever, but the fact of the matter is, no one believes I’d even try, so they don’t think twice. That was pretty bad advice, don’t worry, I’m not the type to listen.

I don’t know if that’s a good idea just yet, but I’ll take it into consideration, I like Europe, but I wouldn’t know where to stay, what to do. Maybe when we really know each other we can bring that plan back out again.

My dad is a psychologist, actually. He’s not been working for quite a while, but he’s fully qualified. He stopped because he didn’t want to start psycho analysing his own family, and I’m almost sad he did. Almost. Anyone I’ve talked to demeans my problems.

You want to know a story about something that’s been bothering me, okay.

It was a Friday afternoon and I’d just been in the bathroom for a few minutes. I wasn’t actually doing anything, just trying to calm down and not induce another panic attack, splashing water on my face, repeating a mantra in my head over and over, saying it to the mirror, all that kinda stuff.

Then, the door opened. Naturally, I just rushed to a stall, locking it behind me and looked through the cracks, I could only really see hair colours, there was a blonde and a redhead, applying lip gloss or something stupid like that, and that’s when I hear it.

“I bet you she’s not even crazy, she’s just doing it for attention.”

I can’t tell which one is talking, but they don’t stop.

“She’s just a sad loser, that panic attack was way too dramatic, I was telling Piper about it and I don’t think she believed it either. The girl totally acts that way just so people will give her a second glance, she’s just some second rate wannabe anyway. Being mentally unstable and moderately pretty was ever in, and it will never be, it’s just stupid shit directors make up.”

I didn’t really listen to the rest, just waited for them to leave before rushing out, and lo and behold, they were standing right outside when I got out. One of them looked shocked and the other just started laughing. I didn’t go back to school for the rest of that day, I spent it in the little forest right beside campus and listened to my iPod until the battery drained.

I know that those kinds of people don’t matter, and what they say especially doesn’t matter, but it still hurts to have your feelings disregarded completely.

Mermaid clan. Interesting.

I think you might have been trying to be funny, although I’m not sure. That joke was pretty terrible. But I suppose we’re all kind of lost on belief these days, especially considering the world seems to be heading towards crashing and burning. We’re all going to hell anyway, if what is in that book written by women hating men (a.k.a. the bible) is true.

I’m not technically Australian. I wasn’t born there... But my mother was... Y’know, impregnated while they were in Sydney. They flew home a few days after and then they found out she was going to be having a baby. It was interesting. I wasn’t conceived in the back of a car, my mother was. I was conceived on the bed of an expensive hotel in Darling Harbour. She is pretty ditzy, she’s a free spirit I guess, always been pretty happy-go-lucky and up and moving constantly. I love that movie.

You’re welcome. I only ask that it’s done for me in return, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for, not really. You’ll get better in time, sharing how we feel is hard and the fact that you’re not that good at it isn’t a bad thing, and it’s not your fault either. You’re not the worst person to love, you just don’t seem to think you deserve it, and I can tell you now, you definitely do. Someone is going to love you like you deserve it, but that may take letting all of yourself be shown. Like for example, I could probably love you because I’ve seen what’s underneath the popular girl mask. But there’s just the simple fact of not being absolutely sure of who you are that may get in my way. Just maybe.

I just googled the butterfly project now. It seems good. I don’t self harm usually, but I think I might draw a butterfly on my wrist, not for me, but for you.

You’re not the only one suffering, that’s something I can guarantee.

Sam is one of my favourites in that book, so it’s kind of an hour. I don’t think you mentioned that, but it’s been a little bit since I mentioned it. It’s so good. The only thing about Sam and Charlie is, they love each other, and according to the author, the two of them end up together. I always thought that they would, but having it reassured for me was really good. There’s a movie now, you should go watch it sometime. I can’t give myself advice because I don’t know how to help myself as well as I know how to help others. I don’t know what my problem is. You are helping, somehow, you’re giving me an outlet for my pent up depression.

I don’t know you that well, I make assumptions and guesses and just hope they hit close to home so I can get to know you better, the person inside you that is. I don’t think I’m your clone, I haven’t seen anyone looking like me walking around lately. It’s not creppy, I think it’s interesting, and good. I like that we have some kind of strange almost supernatural connection through only a few letters.

I don’t know, not really. (I’m smart because if I’m not doing anything else I’m studying. I don’t have many lazy days.)

Well thank you Kipper Fakename. I don’t know, I don’t want to be out there, quite liking being in my little bubble. I don’t think I could hate you, knowing what I know. At least now you have me, although I wouldn’t describe myself as decent. Maybe like... Okay. I try to understand you at least.

You’re not pathetic.

I’m not really into any of that, but one or two rappers have music that’s too good for me not to like. I like a bit of everything if I’m honest, I can’t just stick to one genre. But older music and indie rock are the most obvious choices. Okay, tell me when you have.

I just left to go listen to that song because I forgot to, and now I’m sitting beside my laptop while it plays. I like it.

Purple hair. Really. I don’t know if I’d do it any time soon, I’d probably just like, dip dye it or whatever with temporary dye, but it’d be fun, I think. Red is passionate and strong. I like red, but I’m not red. I hate coffee, I know it sounds stupid to dislike it because everyone over the age of sixteen seems to be addicted these days but I’m just not into it I guess. Tea just trumps it in my opinion.

My dad just called me into the room to talk about my grades. Apparently he rung up to check them and one of them dropped to a B. He’s considering taking away my laptop so I can study. I want to finish this letter before I go out and argue with him but I’m fuming. They aren’t definite grades but he wants to try and push me to do better by punishing me for something like that. My mother is out at the moment, but if he decides he’s going to take it, I’m leaving for a bit, I don’t know where I’ll go, probably sit behind someone’s house and go on it, come back in the morning. I’m feeling kind of reckless today, I don’t know why I want to leave. But I do.

You’re welcome, and thank you too.

It’s okay, it’s not weird.

I know you will, you probably want to know like I want to know what actually happened, not what I’ve been told.

I’m so glad that I have someone to guide me through the dark now. I think things just suddenly got easier after I wrote that first letter in reply to yours, and I hope things only go up from there.

- Sidney

[sidneylewis-blog]

Letter 1# - A secret that you knew but don't know how to tell.

Dear Kipper,

 I don't know how the hell you came up with that as a fake name, but I do know a Kipper, and he’s kind of insane. But I'm one to talk, huh? Little Miss Belongs in a Mental Institution herself calling someone insane. I get why you wrote to me, I really do understand that everything gets too much, and although someone with my kind of problems can't give great advice, I’m going to try, because although you want to stay anonymous, I’ll take just about anyone to talk to right now.

First off, your boyfriend sounds like he sucks. And I know that you feel like you need him, and that you won’t be okay without him because he’s the only person to love you, then you need to really think about what you think you deserve. I’m probably being cliché, and everyone who’s got good taste in books knows this quote, but it’s true and although it doesn’t usually apply to me, I want you to think about it – there I go, sounding like some kind of inspirational talker or an English teacher, although my English teacher is an idiot and doesn’t know when someone is obviously having trouble breathing and is having an intense panic attack (but you knew that) – ‘We accept the love we think we deserve’. Now, I don’t know why the hell you’d think you deserve someone that treats you the way he does, but I don’t think you deserve it. I don’t know who you are, but you deserve more.

Tell me more about who you really are then, because then at least someone will know. I want to know because then I know that someone out there isn’t like the rest of them, and although you chose me for reasons I’m not quite proud of, you chose me and I’m going to return what you gave me, that being the truth.

But don’t tell me who you are, not yet anyway. I like the anonymous element, even though I’m out in the open.

I’d like to tell you that I’m okay, but then I’d be lying and that’d be a bad way to start... Whatever this is. I’m not okay, and I’ve not been okay for a long time. I’m bordering on being an insomniac and I’ve spend the last three hours staring at your letters and trying not to cry. Because I can tell someone. I’m not supposed to say anything about what happened, about the way I am because of it. But I did very bad things, things that I cannot escape, but I can’t even remember. I always see it, the flames and the smoke. So much smoke and I just stood there watching. Maybe I’m insane, but at least if I have someone to talk to I can figure out what’s really wrong with me, what I did.

I’m probably not making much sense… but to give up all my secrets would hurt too much right now. 

I hope that you felt a little better after getting what you told me off your chest. I don't feel like there's any weight off mine yet, but I want to get there. I want to move on.

- Sidney