We live in the world we used to cringe at the very thought of it. We live in the world which is everything except for what we convince ourselves it is. People in our lives can have ‘masks’ and so does this world, which is consisted of people with ‘masks’, have it’s own.
I believed, my friend, that the real love exists, that the freedom has the one who is capable of catching it, but as the time went by, and as I was growing up and got to know life, I realised that it is far away from the truth. I have thought of heaven sometimes, but not so often because why would youth think about death? But, I believed that it does exist and I do believe now, because what are we left do after we find out the truth and the cruelity of life, except to have faith and hope? I live with hope that it will get better, if not for the time of this life we know, then for the time of the other one, when and if we go to that Heaven everyone’s talking about. You once told me, my dear, that we’ll have strenght and will for living as long as we believe. But what happens after our faith turns into the fear of what’s awaiting for us? Into the fear which starts to choke us, steals in in our lungs, throats and noses, slowly and swiftly, just like a gas, and when instead every new breath we take, hoping that we will breathe in the fresh air of freedom, we draw in again the deadly fear. My friend, you once told me that freedom does not leave the free spirit, but it abonded me. I can not recall back when I first became the prisoner and the slave, and even worse, who’s slave I have become. Society’s or even my own? I have started to fulfill excpectations of society long ago, to live life of the deaf and the blind majority, the stupid majority which sourounds and disgusts me. Who sets the norms and rules by which I live now? Them or I myself? Maybe I have sourended long time ago and accepted everything from them, become the part of them, just like the Albatros which sailors haunted down in the poem you had once read to me, do you remember? Do you remember all the loves you had? Do you remember me? What is love, I have forgotten. I see the people around me, lovers and the alone ones. I know what it is, but I have fortgotten already. What is this that we have? We started off as aquantancies, later friends and now I don’t know what are we. If I asked this world around me it would respond me with something I could not understand. I trust you, repsect you, have faith in you, I might even love you, tell me then, what is that? And tell me what is the freedom which is being taken away from us, right to think, having attitudes and knowledge of the real truth? And tell me, I beg of you, what is Heaven and what awaits for us, made of substances, after the Judgment day?
I am writing this letter to you, my dear, because you have always been able to give the answer to my every question, I write this letter to you as a sign that I still haven’t lost faith and hope, and as a sign that one day I’ll breath in deeply and cheer ‘Freedom!’