Sometime in 2011: I had some sort of an argument with my girlfriend and went for a walk. By the time I arrived back home, I had written this – completely unrelated and surreal – ‘sketch’.
Gary Dorking 2011
As someone whom may have some empathy with myself, I feel I must write to you in order to relieve myself of a deep secret that I find to be an enormous burden; the notion that I may be of unsound mind. Your thoughts please,
I am sorry to hear of your present predicament, but feel I am unable to become involved in any way in your assistance or recovery, being as I am in fact, not you.
I am afraid I will have to insist that you communicate with me regarding my aforementioned unhingement. This I say due to the extreme proximity of myself to yourself, i.e. myself.
Dear you that is not me,
Once again I must reiterate my reluctance to become embroiled in what is clearly a disturbing fantasy.
I do quite frankly; wish, for you to cease further letters of this nature.
I, that is to say you, do appreciate your, and therefore my, reluctance to consider this matter. Likewise, I do sympathize with and indeed plan to abide by, your request for no more communications by post. This is why, as you are indeed I, I have sent this last letter via synaptic nerve, i.e., brainwave.
Yet again I must request that you desist from this absurd notion that you are in fact me, and vice versa. There is no evidence to substantiate this twaddle and I would therefore ask you to curtail these misinformed communications forthwith.
Me that is not you.
The mere fact that you received my last communication, which as you may recall was sent by brain wave, suggests I’m afraid that we are indeed one and the same. I must, therefore, ask you again to consider the notion that there may be some instability at work as regards our psychological well-being.
I do now, at last, in light of the evidence, have to conclude that we do indeed inhabit the same skull and are, therefore, it seems likely, one and the same. I would like, given the circumstances in which I now find myself, to offer both my apologies for my earlier denials and my condolences for what I am certain must be, a most difficult condition.
I offer by way I hope of some lessening of your discomfort, the following;
Sir Isaac Newton was also one brick short of a lorry load, and he didn’t do so badly.
The fact that we will in future be saving a considerable sum on postal charges is enough to alleviate my stress considerably.
I look forward to any future communication,
You know who.