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I've tried to translate it as best I can underneath. If you find any errors or you can read something I can't, let me know and I'll fix it :) Please note: This is translated as best I can, exactly the way James Dean wrote it, including grammar or spelling errors. If there's a (?) next to something it means I'm not sure how to make it out, but that's my best guess. Also, anything in italics are notes from me.
-Krystle kng_leo@bellsouth.net

4-26-54
Dearest Barbara,
I don't like it here, I don't like people here. I like it home (N.Y.) and I like you and I want to see you. Must I always be miserable? I try so hard to make people reject me. Why? I don't want to write this letter. It would be better to remain silent. "Wow! am I fucked up"
Got here on Thurs. went to the desert on Sat., went(?) latter(?) to San Francisco. I DONT KNOW WHERE I AM. Rented a car for 2 weeks it cost me $138.00. I WANT TO DIE. I have told (marked out) and 5 others like (injected) her to kiss my ass and what sterile(?), spineless, stupid prostitutes they were. I HAVENT BEEN TO BED WITH NO BODY. And won't untill after the picture and I am home safe in N.Y.C. (snuggly little town that it is) sounds unbelievable but it's the truth I swear. So hold everything stop breathing, stop the (?) all of N.Y.C. untill (should have (?) here) James Dean returns.
Wow! am I fucked up. I got no motorcycle I got no girl. HONEY, shit writting in capitals doesn't seem to help either Haven't found a place to live yet, still living with my father..HONEY. Kazan(?) sent me out here to get a tan. Haven't seen the sun yet. (fog & smog) Wanted me healthy looking. I look like a (?). Don't run away from home at too young an age or you'll half to take vitamens(?) the rest of your life. Wish you cooked. I'll be home soon. Write me please. I'm sad most of the time. (?) lonely too isn't(?) it. (I hope your dying) BECAUSE I AM.
Love,
Jim (Brando Clift) Dean
My address is (fathers that is) is
1667 So. Bundy Drive
L.A. 25, Calif.
The turbulent soul of the Tormented One Himself poured out in letters and poems. Above: A letter from Jimmy to his New York girlfriend, Barbara Glenn.
COURTESY OF BARBARA GORDON.