dear malcolm

there are many times in which i dont know what to say to you. i want to smile at you, wish you good luck with your endeavors, give you advice about anything and everything. but you seem distant. and i think i understand. remember when i wore nothing but black and talked about nothing but death murder dismemberment and rending people limb from limb? well, seem to be doing something similiar, but with that guido-jock thing instead of that gothic nightmare thing.

well, im out of here for a couple of months and alex is, probably, out of here as well, although much closer than me. its going to be just you, mom, and dad. and probaly pretty damn quiet. keep things lively, just try not to give dad a heart attack in the process or mom a nervous breakdown, although im sure one more wont kill her. although another heart attack will probably kill dad.

but listen, you are a good kid, but often swept up in the movement of the crowd. so not to be any longer with this letter, listen to yourself, listen to your ideas, your thoughts, your dreams, and your desires - there is no one more qualified to make decisions about your life than yourself.

keep the old folks under control. and ill see you in decemeber.

and keep your hands off the crack pipe!!

with love
demetrius