Missed you by four months. I found your address from when you were a visiting faculty this past spring. I stopped looking in about January, and then you could have been found in spring. You are part of my history. You are still around. I have to tell you things, I want to hear stories. I read the same ten biographies. They all say the same things. I want to hear a story. I want to tell you a story.
I think I expected you to have a big career, a personal website, and a blog. I mean, I have a blog, so why wouldn't you have one? Maybe you do, and I just can't find it. I expected you to run into the world as only someone who was seventeen in 1990 could do.
I am going to send a letter to the university you last worked at.
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