Day 47:

The time I have gone without exposure to the magic Negro race has taken it's toll. It has caused me permanent emotional damage. I have become desperate. I have glued marshmallows to a coconut in order to satiate my need for ebony camaraderie. I have named the coconut Mr. DuBouis, and have attempted to sing rap songs with him. However, my incurable whiteness has caused me to forget the rap lyrics, many of which include the n-word which may offend him, and as such can not be said. I wander the LaCrosse field, delirious and half-naked, screaming "Fuck the Poh Lease" at Mr. DuBouis in the hopes that he will either respond, or that I may attract a nearby black, but to no avail. For a moment, I assumed that I would find refuge in the arms of the janitorial crew, but they were Latinx, and could not help me.

I do not know how much longer I have. If this letter reaches my friends and loved ones, tell them that I wasn't racist.