Spectrum

Dear World,
You've become a beautiful place, where melancholy and nostalgia beautifully intertwines with the novelty of a different lifestyle and the ambition I've so recently begun to obtain. I enjoy you, I thrive in you, I inhale what you exhale as you inhale what I exhale and we've established a rhythm to this synchronized breathing of ours. We've managed to excape the logistics and dwell currently in the aesthetics and true meaning of everything you've laid out on a plate before me. I nearly cry with the joy. I sit and wonder what it was that I did that made me so lucky to be where I am right now.
Then I realize that you're giving me an opportunity and I thank you for it. I won't let you down. I'll give back to you I promise.
Yours,
A small speck in this expanse of you

To D,

sorry.

-R

Dear You,

You know not what it means to be alive until you have inhaled the dusty light of the windowpane in an empty room. Staring into a brightness; immersing yourself in the completeness of the world that awaits you, seeking nothing. Then there you are. You must become nothing to know what it feels like to be alive. You must become paralyzed to understand the meaning of the tips of your fingers. You must stop to understand the intensity of having gone. You have to. Or you'll be dead.



Sincerely, Me