Dear Mr. Morrissey,
I don't want this to come across as just another fan letter, though inevitably I find it will be.
I just wanted you to know that I've listened to your music since 2003. It's been some of the best I've ever heard, because it's so succinct with how I've felt for all this time. I started with 'Irish Blood, English Heart' - my British friend Stevie sent me a recording from a radio station. Even though I live in the United States, I felt every word you were saying, every emotion you threw across with that voice of yours.
I also want you to know that I hope you're happy - a person in your position would be, I hope. But then, listening to your music, I can't imagine so much angst coming from a happy person. It makes me think of Billy Corgan - at his best musically, he was a wreck. Then he found God, and, like in Stranger in a Strange Land, 'got happy'. I hope you have a good life and you enjoy the fruits of your career. It's done so much for me, at my lowest and my highest. You express it better than any previous band.
I remember visiting Florida for the summer in 2004, and being thrilled at the idea of going to the Virgin Mega Store. I was ecstatic when I saw a full poster of you holding a gun in You Are the Quarry. I bought it that day, and I've listened to you for seven years now. I buy your music whenever I can.
Are you happy? Do you lead a life you enjoy? I know I'm not expressing myself well - like I mentioned earlier, it's inevitable. What I thought of in my head while I smoked a cigarette and thought of the song I just heard does not match the blockish letters I type now. I can at least say I tried, however, to convey to you my gratitude and again, my hope that you're okay. That you drink pleasure and sweat pain and don't have to deal with everyday travesties.
Thank you for being an artist. I have to remind myself to also thank Stevie for sending that long-ago recording.
With all the best wishes and none of the greed,
Annie Stevens
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