And I have spent hours wondering what to write here but, just like the sailor, I too, have found myself lost but always on my way. So I write, hoping that one day, my words will reach the red light above the cliff, and perhaps I'll know.
My letter to Freedom
Dear Freedom, I woke up this morning, tears filling my eyes with realisation. I woke up this morning thinking of you. My body had yet taken control; I could feel each of my limbs still asleep, while my mind was rushing towards your presence. And I knew I had to write you this letter.
Dear mirror, please tell me why should I trust you?
"For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increase. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist." - Vladimir Nabokov
Why I will not give up on the Red Dress
She's there. She's always there. Carefully hung in my wardrobe and laying at the back of my mind whenever she feels like to. I sometimes forget about her, and sometimes, I cannot help but worship her. She's me, and I am her. I love and despise her, for I know I should probably forget about her. But I will never, and here's why.
Why do “Starting afresh” should be about a big move?
Starting afresh, what an excellent concept. I used to idealise the very idea of packing my belongings and flying away to start anew. It would always be somewhere where I knew no one, and no one knew me. And If I am being frank with you, I would always fly to New York in my fantasy. Because as a European, I have been fed with another concept: New York is where all the dreams come true. So, I will admit it, when writing this article, sitting down at my desk, in my bedroom, the same one I have slept in since my childhood, I dream of New York. I dream of feeling this starting afresh feeling.
The Letter I will never send
Dear you, I have dreaded writing this letter, as much as I have daydreamed about you, for the past years. However, it is perhaps crazy to fear the writing of this letter because I know you will never see it, as you have no idea that I would even write it.