#MEKB

  I like women, I like in-especial women that are smarter than I  (not hard for you's I do suppose, woman kind!) I have your dissertation, as well that I think with some surety is the bulk of your publication-vits. AND THAT, FOR NOW, UNTIL THERE IS SOME FALL OF THE BERLIN-WALL OF USUALS AND POLICIES WILL HAVE TO 'DO'; For your sake, if I can speak to that condition, not in any wont jaundiced peeve, it is not at all OK for me to show at your 'Throne' with your 'HenchmanSecretary' and all to 'talk talk talk' about what-is-not a fib that I am wooing you, when all of me just likes the way we greet-and-small-talk as of some a-working-day mornings. I don't see how my always-goal by you, Marie, the just friends, just getting-to-know-you, can get unpolluted by the briarpatch-thicket of social expectations that: come with your role/Position, come with mine (born male, student, in the environs of landmines of mutual accusations, female justly to males, mal...

  I am between-causes; that in almost all ways, my once-burning desire to speak up for homeless women-- of whom some would say I had membership-- I now am locked out because of a breach of contact with the homeless, particularly so for having once again been threatened with assault by a rogue in a homeless tent camp-- really two such incidents and a real assault last May-- nearly a year ago-- and an attempt to burn me up on Christmas Day. This would rather include 'whatever friendship as might have been' between us: vigorously I will escape any interpersonal hint that what I want relationally is usual male-female pre-mating ; you were sufficiently illustrating that you thought of me in such terms by your second email, and as I should, I ran away, and will stay away until there is some more solid recognition that I don't want to be your boyfriend, period.

  Marie! I shall send these notes to you in this site, a rather indirect, quasi-covert type of journalism, and there is a big chance that you will never see my words hereat-- words that mean nothing about the physics of relational interaction, nothing at all that would-- I know-- be against your UL Faculty Code of Conduct (which I have studied closely), nor violative in any way of the ULouisville Code of Conduct for Students-- pointedly NOT-SO for any hint of stalking  or your OK-ly seeing to it that we talk over coffee (hint hint). You may from my initial feelings, mostly of trepidation as seeing that for neither Thee nor me will there be a 'good way' to visit for kibbitz in usual ways, especially not for me again to come to say Hi at your office on  Floor 3 of Ekstrom Library. I am perfectly perfectly perfectly at ease over never  doing the traditional cisMale thing of inviting you to socialization. This Ours will not have been romance, re which I am bio-capable bu...

 The USUAL has occurred: you chill as I thrill re new-friend; this, Marie, this usual from me, makes a 'usual,' my opening-lettering comes to the usual the usual end. No further need this go except away. I got the usual that's not unusual the way for me to wend a usual more-indifferent-end

  4.17.2022pm5.43Easterday,Birthday75Mine Marie. . . I have uttered ILY to you, which almost every near-passerby gets from me and early on in acquaintance. Now something quakes in me about that phrase, not exactly because an ILY would not mean anything bad or trivial, for all the paucity of English words to describe the many diverse 'flavors' of loving, but rather I say again because at this stage I am tremulous about being too intense in love, a dominating way to alienate 'new favorites' in one's life. Love, about love. I have been 'serial' in loves, always with woman has been my love, always a hoped one-and-only fondness that as serial monogamies go, just wilts or dies or explodes . The kind of love I express so casually to nearly everyone is precisely that which lets-go, lives on no hope, does not mean a lock of the sort people mean in 'till death do us part,' a failing exchange and lived moment each time I get what women seem to fear, 's...

  4.17.2022Easter, My 75 th Birth Anniversary Marie, I quiver. Now you have initiated some contact with me, and there my mood spins between delight and fear. The delight is that you do-too to a real level wannabe friendly; the fear is that 1. my joy will whelm you, flood you, run you off as they say, as well that my gushy eagerness with over-messaging will work to my being shunned; 2. I have conveyed to you: trannies are conspicuously and notoriously force into solitaire. . . While some of us get sad and in extremity suicidal over this forced isolation, the result with me is more like a terror that I might as over and over and over lose nice prospects for me. I shall really try to seek a relational momentum that is you-centered, but frankly at the moment I have only marginal and likely sissy ideas about what that you-center might be. Sometimes I write letters that never get to the party addressed, all the while with a conflicting urge to 'just spout it out.' You have e...