Notes

Dear Fia,

Some words are able to reach our minds and hearts like the sunlight filtering through the clouds on a rainy day. Like the first spring flower emerging from the snow. I am wondering now—what ocults the veil of your state of absolute shock. Feel free to share with me a little bit about the subproduct of such a shock engendered by those words written by me. Among all these aforementioned ruminations, is there one, particularly, that has managed to rise above the others, in your insightful eyes?

Now, before we abandon ourselves to the current of the river of this conversation, the sense of duty prompts me to warn you that my mind shall appear to be strange and unusual; and a little, just, a bit eccentric. Maybe, like in Greek mythology, you will need a ball of yarn so you do not get lost, on the labyrinth of my wonderland, because to become the 'Mad Hatter', all that is required of me is the hat. That said, being you armed with this information, have you still willing to launch into the rabbit hole?

Here is a new item to be added to a potentially growing list of the similarities to connect the two of us: the fondness for Mythologies. The title of the book lacks relevance when the sap of its contents flows on abundance within us. The essence of this word, "Meraki", integrates the code of conduct that I have embraced for my existence, as I bestow tonnes of life to my days, instead of just living them as if every sunrise on the horizon of life or every sunset was the same, when it is not. And it will never be for the one who allows it. If we know how to perceive the silent splendour—however, on constant movement—around. Away from all pairs of eyes sometimes, naturally, but dreadfully close to the pulsation of some hearts. People around the globe crave to do what they love when they can, all the times, by all the means and the ways; in all possible, impossible and improbable places. At all the times and as long as ever they can. However, a few of them also seek to love what they do under those equal terms regardless of the nature of the activity and the quality of the external impact—the positive or negative, or even neutral, reaction—that the performance of this activity may receive from others. Be able to do what we love and love what we do. It is a combination with an air of utopia for a considerable audience that feels like catching the wind with a net.

Through that unexpected and welcome literary experience you have had, you are able to see how much of your patience can be gained if well directed. As for us being products of the thought and opinion of others; we really are products, simultaneously subroducts and developers of them, if we look at the situation through the lens of the fact that these same people are products and subproducts of social influence exerted visual mental and verbally. A horrendous vicious cycle that has been perpetuated by humanity throughout History through the toxic comparison with deep roots, perhaps, on fear of the unknown unites the lack of empathy and (self)love. The overvaluation of the other's opinion to the detriment of one's own is, from my perspective, a slow suicide of the spirit. But the power given to another is a power that can and must be claimed by each one as their spirits awaken to the need to break the shackles.

You present yourself to the world with an open heart in relation not only to your passions, I dare say. I feel that your heart is completely exposed, not to be displayed like a work of art in a museum, to be admired or judged, you keep it exposed, perhaps, because you do not want layers of barriers between your heart and the marrow of life. Even if your heart were to be broken by some external or internal factor, you would never ocult it under all organic layers again or condemn it to feel the world through the skeleton in the absence of these layers. And, although your heart was not made for museums, it is art.
Every thought; feeling; impression; belief; principle; value; dream; passion; desire; hope; longing; insecurity; fear; inspiration; idiosyncrasy; randomness; theory; preference; interest; ritual; superstition; peculiarity; imperfection. Everything and nothing in particular about yourself. The beauty and the ugliness. The pleasure and the pain. Every crack through which light penetrates and through which it emanates. Every shadow. Art. Each of these things makes you—your heart, your mind, your soul—a masterpiece on eternal improvement, Fia. We all are.

We share the same thought and desire regarding this topic, truly. We are at the mercy of the same spell cast by Language.

Even though I have come into this world devoid of expectations orbiting around others, for the only expectations I cherish are those that center on my own person, I have enjoyed your company through our letters. So, the relief comes like a breeze to my heart knowing that my words reach yours accurately. They are rooted in the ground with the best of intentions. Still, I recognize the frailty that accompanies the beginnings of a potential friendship. As for the very depressing subject. If what is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly. Perhaps the subject will not present itself as depressing. Anyway, I would like you to know that I will seek to embrace as a planet everything you want to share with me. I intent be here for you as long as your heart desires.The friendship that I have to offer to someone is genuine and unconditional, but it comes with challenging clauses: having myself around is like having as friend Henry DeTamble from the debut novel written by Audrey Niffengger. And not everyone has the patience of a Clare Abshire. On the other hand, as an Emily Dickinson poem says, "Forever – is composed of Nows". I have countless 'nows', despite—the probable imminent—absence accompanied by a certainty of a return on my part to offer. But when my approach is allowed, the implications apart, my presence tends to be accompanied by the sweet possibility of touching the forever that one second can have.

Oh, of course, precisely, it was rude indeed. But I understood them in a way that they could not understand me at that time. People offer what they have to offer at that level of their lives. I had a handful of understanding in my pocket, because each person builds a version of us; feels us in a unique way. Exactly, each person adopts their way of expressing themselves through writing. Myself for example. My writing can easily adapt to the writing the other person is familiar with; nevertheless, when I feel there is an opening door for me to come to express myself on the way my personal preferences lean, preferences dictated by the moment, I aim to write with one hand without filters while the other holds the hand of the Intuition. I always hope for the best, but I am always prepared for the worst possible scenario.

Fascinating. We finally find something where we are—partially—opposites. As for me, I am a slow writer with a tendency to immerse myself on what I write constantly; to experience every event, every emotion, sensation and feeling with every cell of the body and every piece of the soul; savoring the words as if they were an exotic delicacy, letting them ripen on the oak barrels of my mind like whiskey as I write with surrender and devotion to the Muse. We are partially opposites because the only thing that sets us apart on this issue is the "cadence" of each other.

I also enjoy Korean music; and not just that. The language; the cuisine; the literature; the dramas; among other details orbiting around Korean culture. Tell me, Fia, if you were on an elevator, with a single person at your side, and the elevator suddenly stopped working. Which member from BTS would you wish to relish with your company during this period?By the way, when the opportunity arises on your horizon listen to the cover of 'Dynamite' made by the girls of Rolling Quartz.

"Music and rhythm find their way into the secret places of the soul." Words from Plato. I have that category of connection to the Music, but not to a particular band, group or singer. I feel like I am an adept of Polyamory towards the favorites I have. I travel through time and space with all the content that I listen to. With all the content that I read and watch. A song becomes eternal as long as a heart beats for it and a soul is able to welcome it inside. From my perspective, the Music harbors the ability to weaken barriers rather than build new ones—or strengthen existing ones. We are stripped of all labels and social masks through it. We are naked, often literally, while listening to music. Dressed only on our own humanity.

Which musical genres are not to your liking?

I had started this letter by listening to 'Wrecked' by Imagine Dragons. At some point, the place had been claimed by Sia with the song 'I'm Still Here'. Now, as I dedicate these lines to you, 'Holding Onto Gravity' by NELL.

The instant you manifested your love for your name, at that very moment, without realizing it, you were thanking me for such a detail. That say, I must share with you this small, persistent and incandescent impression I had when my eyes rested on your figure and name. A glimpse whose echo I have not been able to extinguish since we started to correspond with each other. I felt that element 'Fire' meant something important to you. In fact, it was with that word swallowing its tail on my mind, like an Ouroboros, resulting in the comment involving words like 'ember', 'flame', and 'wildfire' orbiting around patience. I remembered the meaning in Latin and the pieces fell into place. Fortunately I abstained from a bet. By unhanded to the Intuition for a second, the endeavour to bring myself as close as possible to the origins of your name would have been doomed. I believe that I had subtracted Latin from the aforementioned origins. because I might be projecting my appreciation for the language. After all, one Latin phrase that caresses and illuminates the sinks depths of my being is "Memento Mori". My path has not crossed that of many souls who share the same flame as me.

I am pleased to know that, Fia.

Samuel Johnson, the English writer who made memorable contributions to literature, wrote that,"our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks."

May our interactions blazing like a bonfire, fueled by tonnes of "unexpected sparks".

Sincerely,

Sorin

Note: "Just a wave of emotions came over me. Feeling a little sad...." / "Anxiety and the fear of that day... comes toward me at full force." We can "ride" this wave of emotions together. After, we can present an eviction notice for both Anxiety and Fear.