An Open Letter to Open Letters

An Open Letter to Open Letters,

I would like to write an open letter to open letters, but I have found I do not have anything to say, except that I appreciate the opportunity it provides to showcase openly how open and transparent I am about my process, as a human being and an artist, which of course can hide all the shadowy other reasons I am seeking attention by posting an open letter in the first place.

Writing an open letter is, in fact, much like shutting down the government, one does it for its own sake. One declares openly that one is a writer of open letters by writing an open letter, and ipso facto, mission accomplished. You don't even need to read this letter to know that I am a writer of open letters, and must be incredibly confident, smart, sexy, and artistic, to write my letters so openly.

This is something we all desire, sure. I write so you will read. I need you to understand me. I need you to love me. I need validation from the eyes and pageviews and downloads and listens and retweets and reblogs and Likes and hashtags and blog posts that show me to the world for who I want to be seen as.

I used to wonder what it would be like to be conscious of when I am in another person's dream. Like, if I killed someone in another person's dream, then in my real life I'd carry around that knowledge, that guilt. I am a murderer in your eyes. How awful, to not be able to tell that person, en medias dream, "No, you don't understand! That's not me! That's not who I am!"

If there is anything I can say to end this open letter to you, Open Letters, it's that this day and age, we are all our own Public Relations Managers, and we keep nothing "private." Except, of course, for all the things I am not saying in this letter. I mention others' dreams and my appearance in them. I will not mention my own.