To anyone who wants a letter

I found some pages buried in some old papers of mine. It was a letter I started as way to kill time, waste paper and practice my penmanship. It sucks. I would mention that I used to be pathetic, but it's probably still somewhat true. At any rate, it seems that I used to have quite a bit of free time. I've transcribed some of it:

19 February 2002

To anyone who wants a letter,This letter is for anyone who wants a piece of mail. You are not obligated to write a response to this letter, but you may do so. If your response merits a reply, then I shall write one. I must state for the record, however, that I am not trying to initiate correspondence; this letter is for entertainment purposes only.So, congratulations, I guess. Since you are reading this, you have been selected, through some arbitrary process not yet designed, as the recipient of this letter. As I write this, I realize I don't know who you are yet. I had I better think about a strategy to select possible candidates. I'll have to think about how to do this.

My goal really is to send this to someone who wants a letter. It's for anyone who finds joy in the sight of something in his/her mailbox. This letter certainly contains nothing of serious importance. It is just mail.I can't think of a a single criterion that unequivocally nominates someone for selection. I suppose I could send this to someone at random from the phonebook, but I certainly don't want to send anyone junk mail. But a careful and controlled selection process seems somewhat trivial.

It continues for several more pages, with me adding to it over a period of a few months. I basically equivocate over fair versus sufficiently random selection methods and throw in a few apologetic rambles about the dry and heavily self-referential nature of the letter. It's actually mostly boring, which I why I haven't reproduced it in full here.

But there is one part of it that's interesting. It's my last addition to this letter before it was relegated to a yellow envelope in my desk, waiting to be completed:

16 May 2002

I've talked quite a bit about the person who is going to receive this letter, but, and selfishly perhaps, I haven't really thought about you at all. And now that I think about it, you're not really that random at all. Given that I am hoping that you have made it this far through my thoughts and ramblings, I'm pretty sure I'm writing this letter for someone very specific. Someone who I really want to get this thing, who I know will want it, and I guess someone who feels the same way I do when they get a letter in the mail. I'm looking for a person who loves and craves a piece of writing created just for them. I just don't know who you are yet.

So, I suppose I should apologize for the lengthy explanations of the selection process. I just realized that it's all pretty unnecessary. If I eventually figure out who you are, maybe I'll mail this to you. In the meantime

And that's where it stops. I can't remember what my twenty-year-old self was proposing for the 'meantime', and I must say the suspense is killing me. I probably was going to complete this thought before I was interrupted by dinner or a bong-hit or something.

My paper-wasting distraction had morphed into an actual quest, but it seems I quit before I had a chance to begin.

I'm probably not going to ever send this thing (I mean, it's really boring). So I'll do the next best thing: post this here, toss the letter, and hope that somehow you will read this.And I'm still wondering about the lost words after 'meantime'. I wonder if I really did have a strategy to find you.