I want to write you a letter and ask you what is the color of sky above you, is it crimson blue or can you see streaks of dark clouds ready to move in with cavalry of thundering ones. The letter would ask you if the birds are happy there and chirp like they should and request you to find time to walk out to wave at the Moon, stuck in the solitary confinement of gaseous void. Amid the textual inquery of the sky and land, I would let you know what a dreary evenings I endure with all the other such lengthily written but unsent letters lying next to me.
How do I tell them, what a tragic world it is where words and letters like emotions are bound to obey the draconian law of truth. But like each written heartfelt conversation, this one would too end with still here, still yours.
A revolutionary is someone who religiously believes in non-existence of barriers. And I’m all but someone who is blind to the walls for all I do is paints dreams over the them, turning them into my canvas for imagination.
Maybe I’m broken part of the revolution generation, maybe I’m the idea of what a flightless bird looks like for I sure would not fly even with the cage down. A revolutionary I shall never be, but I do know how to feel like one with my eyes closed. I can paint myself into anything I want, a flygirl, a pirate, a war hero and even a renegade, an insurgent.
So let the mind weep for the deadness of the brave rebellious soul; the heart shall live in stories, the fabrication of beautiful lies, that brings a whole new world alive creating a sky and land that needs no more anarchy.
I remember, when I saw last episode of Lost I wanted to throw my laptop out of the window. Then I saw Dexter’s last episode and I wanted to throw my laptop out of the window. And then the whole HIMYM’s Ted’s wife dying and him being with Robin made me wonder, why I still haven’t thrown my laptop out of window.
But, today after finishing last episode of PLL I wanted to throw myself out of the window, but I am very well aware of the fact that I’m not wolverine.
Oh well! farewell to the liars who were once friends…
P.S I hope stranger things doesn’t do this to my pretty little heart.😋
Now I have multiple options but I shall address you with the title Ellen used to tease you. I have met a handful of fictional characters, but my darling Davie Balfour none has ever enchanted me like you did.
Is it strange for me to fall in love with your manipulation and selfishness of taking, though Ellen did a fine job at that by teaching you more about giving? But I wonder whether your calling out to Maddie on the bridge and making her fire that shot was giving or taking? I wonder if you gave her chance to save herself from witnessing the cruelty about to fall on her best friend or if you took her soul by forcing her to end your horror.
O Julie! I wonder if Ellen ever found out what happened to you. I keep imagining her reaction to the death of the girl she had the crazy Sherlock Holmes kind of summer with. I wonder if Maddie and Ellen ever came face to face and if they did what they talked about. I picture them sitting over a cup of tea talking about how stubbornly mysterious you were. Jamie sitting next to them looking at them and missing his favorite sister.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get more of you from the author but boy am I glad for the prequel. I try to picture you as Therese Belivet only more confident, cunning, gorgeous and mysterious.