Dear People of the Earth,
Do you write letters to yourself? (Because, I have been doing this for a long time now and it suits me since I have absolutely no other work.) But I realized that sometimes it’s perhaps beneficial (sounds selfish, I know) to share what you say to yourself, so I write this with my heart filled with an adolescent hope that some of you might read it and help me understand what I have written. More than often I do not understand what I write, you know.
I know in times of riots and war my words are not only insignificant but perhaps impertinent to many. Yet, I write in the hope that some of you will perhaps relate. I have often believed in gestures like this. I do not know if they have any meaning but these little gestures like writing letters, like sending little notes over digital drives, remembering little dates of little events are the anodynes that used to keep me happy once. But as I grew older I realized that I forgot all the dates, I grew lazy and I stuck myself in cramped spaces only writing letters to myself- to make sure that they always get answered. In some ways all my trust riposted back to me. I could not trust people with words and more than that I could not trust them with feelings. In some of the places where I lived it was told that-be a man, goddamn it, hide your love away, like that Beatles song, and in some ways it worked miracles too, I think. There was no possibility of being hurt, there was no possibility of being loved much either, the usual story.
Sometimes when you like someone, you do things that may seem stupid, still they mean a lot you, and if you are lucky they might mean a lot to that person too, so I think one should take that chance. Just one life. How many times do we say that to ourselves? Despite my cowardice, and all that fear of getting shattered by indifference I took the little joy of sending a book to Her- with an anonymous note (where I definitely got to be a Superhero). That’s how I do things anyway.
'When the war is over the letters remain, don’t they? That's why you must write them, more in times of war.'
And sometimes you got to wait through the rainy days and the pallid winters, sometimes you got to wait just a little longer. And for some people, a thousand days over.
Yours
The Fool on the Sill
Do you write letters to yourself? (Because, I have been doing this for a long time now and it suits me since I have absolutely no other work.) But I realized that sometimes it’s perhaps beneficial (sounds selfish, I know) to share what you say to yourself, so I write this with my heart filled with an adolescent hope that some of you might read it and help me understand what I have written. More than often I do not understand what I write, you know.
I know in times of riots and war my words are not only insignificant but perhaps impertinent to many. Yet, I write in the hope that some of you will perhaps relate. I have often believed in gestures like this. I do not know if they have any meaning but these little gestures like writing letters, like sending little notes over digital drives, remembering little dates of little events are the anodynes that used to keep me happy once. But as I grew older I realized that I forgot all the dates, I grew lazy and I stuck myself in cramped spaces only writing letters to myself- to make sure that they always get answered. In some ways all my trust riposted back to me. I could not trust people with words and more than that I could not trust them with feelings. In some of the places where I lived it was told that-be a man, goddamn it, hide your love away, like that Beatles song, and in some ways it worked miracles too, I think. There was no possibility of being hurt, there was no possibility of being loved much either, the usual story.
Sometimes when you like someone, you do things that may seem stupid, still they mean a lot you, and if you are lucky they might mean a lot to that person too, so I think one should take that chance. Just one life. How many times do we say that to ourselves? Despite my cowardice, and all that fear of getting shattered by indifference I took the little joy of sending a book to Her- with an anonymous note (where I definitely got to be a Superhero). That’s how I do things anyway.
'When the war is over the letters remain, don’t they? That's why you must write them, more in times of war.'
And sometimes you got to wait through the rainy days and the pallid winters, sometimes you got to wait just a little longer. And for some people, a thousand days over.
Yours
The Fool on the Sill
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