kez old man

There’s this guy that I’ve been writing to for years. He lives in Pennsylvania. His name is Kez. He has OCD like me. We shuttle envelopes stuffed with junk back and forth. I can’t speak for him, but I send him stuff that I can’t throw away. I have a problem with hoarding. I don’t like to get rid of anything. I always think that I might have a use for it. Anyway, when I know something has to go, but I don’t want to let go of it, I put it in an envelope to Kez.

“I’ve never told you this before Kez, but the stuff I send to you is garbage.”

There, it’s said. I feel better.

Anyway, I send stuff to Kez. My guess is that, since he also has OCD, he either keeps it or ships it on to someone else.

So, I get an email today from Kez and this photo is attached, along with a Christmas greeting.

My question to you is this: Is it possible that I have been trading letters for the past six or seven years with an elderly insane man?

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