I’ve never written anything for you or about you. Don’t know why I haven’t. May be for the reason that you’ve never made me angry, sad and depressed, and I’m mostly writing about the lonely desperate feelings. But you’ve always been there for me to reach out for help, though I find it the hardest to describe my feelings for you. Good or bad, I’ve always been in your maternal shadow. And what was hidden very deep inside wont wait anymore to be written.
Thanks for your silent shadow. Thanks for your healing voice. And thank you for the filthy, crowded and tragically beautiful world you brought me into.