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Love Letter From The 90s, Amazing How Boys Used To Play With Words To Cage Girls

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*HOW SCHOOL BOYS USED TO WRITE LETTERS TO GIRLS, in the 90s*

P. O. BOX 4,Nyilima.
14th Fen, 1991

Dear Sweet Hanna,

Time and ability plus double capacity has forced my pen to dance automatically on this benedicted sheet of paper. I hope you’re swimming in the wonderful pool of Mr. Health there. I am also parambulating in the cool breeze of wellness here.

Sweetie pie, the reason why this miraculous thing is happening is because, honey, I love you spontaneously, and as I stand horizontally parallel to the wall and vertically perpendicular to the ground now, I only think of you, since you are a fantastic and fabulous girl put together as fantabulous. I implore you to decipher this my anthem of love oozing out from the innermost pendulum of my thoraxial cavity.

Darling, please stop haranguing with the feelings in my heart because I love you more than a snake loves rat.

To me each day I start by dreaming of you. Each time I see you my metabolism suddenly halts and my peristalsis goes in reverse gear. My medula oblangata also ceases functioning.

Crazy, crazy, crazy you may say but this is verily veritable. If only you knew what is going on in my encephalon you would prostrate. That’s why I need to see you vis a vis soon for a better elucidation through tete a tete. No hyperbole & onomatopoeia, simple candidness.

Only u and me are protagonists in this subtle affair. As I cogitate and ruminate over the last episode, I genuflex before the Omnipotent and implore him to let this affair emulsify.

By the way, I was bamboozled, scintilated, exhilarated, and left in a state of prolonged euphoria by the contents of your missive which was quite edifying and exhalting. It left my bio-chemistry in a paradise-like equilibrium.

Empirically speaking, I love u chemically… I don’t ever want to see gloom and doom looming over your angelic live portrait. Let my appellation be scribbled across your heart, with indelible ink. If any boy tries to ask for your companionship, tell him that u are leased and caveated.

I think I have to pen off here, because I still haven’t finished studying electrolysis polymerization. But before I evaporate, I like to revitalize your memory with those encapsulating lyrics which proclaim that catarrh is my butter, your piss is my mimbo, the world’s greatest lover is me.

Catch you later. Sleep tight and don’t let those bed bugs bite you because you are too sweet for them. Goodbye for now.

Your slave in love, your pillow, your cushion,

Did any of u write/receive such?

If you did,then don’t bother about Valentine.

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