Letter to Self IV

A letter to the Lady of Letters,

Does that addressing make you feel good? Then do. This letter too needed to be drafted, spontaneously, without much planning, like the rest. Yet, as I went through the other three to Self, the content seemed devastatingly and uncannily similar. This need to write to you is propelled each time their is a deficit, as if someone else living within finally finds her voice and takes over. It is scary, but believable. It is mad, but then who is not. And it is repetitive, but, like the spelling error I inevitably make (of repitative which becomes repetitive by auto-correct), isn't life but a series of concentric circles converging crazily at a same beginning, and ending differently?

This, woman, will not be about a complaint. Lament is more specific. I scrolled down the series of posts you made over the last few months and right after your highest high of 'Thirty-one in July!' the downfall is remarkably bottomless. I understand your deliberate detachment from tortured living and getting busy with happy nothings and now in this newness of yesterday where you were never interested yourself, in books. Yet, the column which speaks of the numbers look seriously short, that is all. And your life, being quite filled up in all its time-slots needs to have a section devoted to what you do best. That is all, too.

Perhaps sorrow is the cause of all expression, and the tension of existence and identity brought about the best in you. Yet, it is not at all fetching that a bit of content cannot do what mighty sorrow did. Content, after all, is the king!

Tomorrow marks a new month, as you say, one of your favourite. You will do things you like -- travel, be part of a vacation, earn to spend and, and? Yes, that 'and' bit needs this little push. And, you will write. Allow October to become your fest of words. Your untouched canvas has remained unattended too long now, and vacations must end for vacations to be longed. So, revive the germ of 'obsession', and swim along. Play some music if you must and hit the keyboard! For all you know, the letters are waiting to sing.

Compose yourself to your characters,

K.