The following letters are not fabricated. They are 100% real, only names
with been withheld for obvious reasons. They were found on the stage at
the November 4th 1993 Morrissey concert in Dallas by a friend who works
for the production company that handled the show. Thanks Barry! Spelling
and gramatical errors were left intact for effect.
Dear Morrissey,
I THINK YOU'RE THE GREATEST! In my room, you're all over! I have almost
all you posters, the one I don't have is "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable
Now" because they don't sell those anymore. I went to your record release
party at Bill's Records and Tapes in Dallas but you didn't come, I nearly
cried. But you coming in-concert and to Sound Ware-house is shocking and
I'm-coming. Anyways, I bought second row tickets to your concert and I hope
it will be a blast!
P.S. Please, if you can, write to me. Please!
Name and address withheld
(Letter was written in bubbly school-girl handwriting and included a
yearbook photo of a cute Asian girl in her early teens, but we can't seem
to find it so you'll just have to take our word for it.)
Dearest Morrissey,
Hello, it's exactly one and a half hours until I'm able to set eyes on the
most important person in my life. I know you probably receive incredible
amounts of letters and I can only pray that this little insignificant piece
of paper will reach your fingertips; I'll write just in case. Allow me to
introduce myself, since I've already been nosey enough to find every piece
of literature about you, although I'm sure I don't have a clue. Anyway,
I was born in Luton, England in 1972 and my country of origin is India.
My family (mom, dad & brother) moved to America in 1981 and that's when
I became a part of the culturally confused portion of your following, well,
soon thereafter. I'm sure that all of your fans tell you that they can relate
to everything you write and say in interviews and I'm sure that they all
say that they are your most devoted fans so I'll hope you assume all of
those fan-worship types of things. It does feel as though when you sang
"Angel, Angel, don't take your life" that you intended to save
my life. God, that sounds selfish. Anyway, I hope I'll sound different so
that maybe I can somehow reach you. And I hope to God you haven't stopped
reading because you think I'm unintelligent or too young. Please give me
a chance to be your friend. I'm afraid that what I write will seem so insignificant
and shallow that you will just laugh and go on to the next letter. I hope
you don't mind if for a second I pay you some of my sincerest, deepest compliments
because you deserve them. You are the most handsome, mysterious, sensual,
intelligent, compassionate, beautiful, interesting, original man in the
world according to me. I have this fantasy of getting past the realities
in life (I'm a senior in college) of having money in order to survive and
then devoting my whole life to seeking you out and having a life-long friendship
with you, if you'd have me as your friend that is. You're probably thinking
"what an overconfident, little brat". I want to know about you,
and I want you to know that I'm listening when you spoke. What you have
to sing and say is very valuable to my existence. I want to be "alone"
with you, because I too am surrounded by people and am totally alone. When
I read your interviews, you words just seem to exude pain. I as a loyal
fan can't bear to watch you suffer without trying to put an end to it. Let
me into your world, please. Let someone in. I want to take care of you and
hold you if you cry. After the trauma you've withstood for all these years,
it's no wonder you seem numb. I have feelings for you that I've never felt
for another human being. I probably sound like a bad, top 40 love song right
about now so I'll stop. I'm in love with you and you'll never hear me. Anyway,
you're the best human on my list if counts for anything and I love you.
Goodbye.
Name and address withheld
(not that we weren't tempted, mind you, too bad the poor sap didn't include
a photo of himself.)
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