Wednesday, May 9, 2007

A Letter From Stranger

Note: The following article is an old e-mail from someone I have known only through cyberspace and text messages. I met this country girl (about to study in one of the prestigious university here in Manila) six years ago in the net. My relationship with her started with sensible conversation via text messages that even Pablo Neruda might envy for their poetical gestures and melody. We were strangers playing with intimate words that we called each other faceless stranger (pardon the redundancy) and non-existent.

From this I leave it here and be the judge to our child’s play. This is the exact letter she sent; nothing is changed.

***

Well, I wrote a letter ages ago that i never did send.. i was trying to sum up my courage and before I knew it.. You left.. But i found it and thought it was such a nice letter.. Everyone I guess already read it.. except of course .. you.. so im sending it now...

Non-existent,

I can't answer your questions, nor can I even try to deem of them for they are as incomprehensible as the silence you so try to grasp. Nor can i even begin to imagine the depth of your soul, nor the feelings that dwell in between the words exchanged between two unknown beings.. the enigmatic us.

You know little of me and I can say i know just as much of you, yet, we speak with so much passion that it scares me so. Do you feel the same passion? Or is this just a created lie between a faceless stranger and a non-existent guy? I want to reach our and look into your soul but you're soul's ocean deep, I'm afraid I may drown in it.
I'm scared of this, but why can't i stop. Why am so afraid to lose this, to lose you? Is this real or just a game? For if so, spare me. Spare me please from thy lies and spare me from thy created words for i can't bear it. Spare it and me'll spare us both. I'm drowning in the mystifying depths of you and i can't get out. I'm not even sure if i want to. But i don't want to drown alone. I don't want to keep reaching out in the empty dark and grasp the incomprehensible silence you so seldom say.
I know im the only one who could answer these silly questions but i wonder if you ask yourself of this too.

I don't believe in dreams. For as I've said, dreams don't come true but you are just but a dream. Does that mean that you are just as non-existent as my dreams? I don't believe in stars for they are a useless flaunt of the hopes and wishes of mere humans unable to touch them, nor feel the sparkling glow of light come out of them. And I don't believe in love, for if love existed, everything would have a reason, everything would make sense. But not everything has meaning; more, not everything has reasons the same that we both have a reason in doing this. Or do we?

You speak much of passion and the nothingness of love, but yet, can't you consider passion-love or love as passion? Where do we draw the line between passion and love? If love does not exist, the, could passion be just as unreal as love? For do you not love with passion and give passion with love? Are they two separate imaginings or are they one and the same? Does not our logic blind us into believing of its non-existence or do you just choose not to believe in it as i do?

Questions... questions... You are more than a question yet you're nothing more than a cloud of unreal dreams. You say beauty lies with uncertainty, then, I can't find the beauty in it, for though it sparks the imaginative minds of us mere humans, it ignites the greatest fear an the most consuming doubts. The way it’s consuming the whole of me.

Is what we are doing the answer to the questions we most dearly seek or is it just another questions itself?
faceless stranger

----

there........ finally i did it.. well, i'm really sorry if i inconvenienced you in anyway.. thanks...
enveloping darkness, i tried to escape from it..
think not of thoughts that slowly suffocate one's
being.. doubts that consumes through the mind like
fire... drowning in a pool of lies.. drunk with the
wine of oblivion..a pagan to love while a slave to
passion.. i tried to reach out for something that was
non-existent ... found him gone.. found myself
empty..
i wrote.. though knowing all was lost.. hoping that
somehow he's there though believing he's not.. yet he
writes and i know not why.. but still... still.. i
hope..



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