Sleeping in the locker room (A Letter)

Dear Sally,
The creative process, since you asked, is like living. It's like sleeping in the locker room; That's some dedication. It's the sliver of sunlight who creeps between the panes. You'll find it between not knowing what to say and having too much to say, so much that you haven't stopped to take a breath but there is still too much unsaid -- and yet, alas, you have to end somewhere.

Or is it some time, like sometime? Oh Sally, how you looked in the springtime. I know it's not proper to talk about breasts in a letter. But, as Roth wrote, "I cannot and do not live in the world of discretion, not as a writer, anyway." You know how I do admire our Jewish portents.

Breasts.

Anyway, how'd you like the tiger fight? I wish Memphis and Mizzou would do something to draw attention to the plight of our planet's actual endangered big cats. Remember in Old School when Luke Wilson's character told Will Ferrel's character to "take it easy, big cat" when he was fake-dying after being elbow-dropped by The Dean?

Regarding the ballgame, Mizzou did their best to let Memphis stay in it after going ahead 24 at one point. But for Memphis, it was too little, too late.

I would love to keep writing, but I won't. I have needs, Sally. We shall continue this correspondence when I get wings, and begin to fly. Toward you. The clouds are already becoming azure. See you soon.