April, 1975. Pasadena, California.

Hello Rushki darling, wherever you are today.
I lay in bed the other morning and thought about what 
you might be doing right then. Just a thought.
Up I get to earn my daily bread with the masses in my 
self-imposed '1984-ish' existence.
I'm depressed, I know that much without a doctors note. 
I have a perfect right to be depressed. It's the natural 
condition for a man coming to terms with an obsession.
It's the flip-side.