Dear Lesbian Singer-Songwriter,

I am writing to you from deep within a well of loneliness. Even the haze of alcohol cannot dull my pain. Is it all meaningless? Am I anything more than a cute face at the local coffeeshop? Why am I cursed with this body, this haircut, this outlook on life? Why won't she return my phone calls? Is manslaughter punishable by capital punishment in the state of Massachusetts? Where do we go when we die? Who can help? I just can't figure it out.

-Existential Undergraduate of the Pioneer Valley

Dear EUPV,

In times like these, it can be helpful to turn to the annals of history for an uplifting precedent. Galileo's head was on the block (the crime was looking up for truth), and as the bombshells of my daily fears explode, I try to trace them to my youth. And then you had to bring up reincarnation over a couple of beers the other night, and now i'm serving time for mistakes made by another in another lifetime.

How long till my soul gets it right? Could any human being ever reach that kind of light? I call on the resting soul of Galileo, king of night vision, king of insight.

Yours, metaphysically,
Lesbian Singer-Songwriter