Dear Self,
Hello again. Sometimes I forget you exist. I know that a brief letter from out of the blue won’t make much of a difference, but it’s a start. Indeed, one letter can be the start – or a restart – of feeling understood and at home. I am writing to you to acknowledge my own absence. I have been away, busy with “external important busy things”… you wouldn’t understand. You’re always so caught up in words and music and being free. I feel like I have to support you all the time, but in doing so, I never get to see you. It’s like a marriage where one of the people is always working so that the other one could be living their dream. Is that what we want?
You always ask so many questions of me, of those around us, and of the world. Can’t you just sit quietly and let things be? I don’t have answers for you. I never did. And I don’t have time to consider them fully. I am working so that our future is logical, safe, and good. Sometimes I think we disagree. Sometimes I think that you would rather be spontaneous than smart, or free rather than grounded.
I try to “be myself.” What does that mean? Am I not you? Are you and I not the same? Can I ever not be “myself”? Here you (I?) go with the questions again.
Take care now,
Michal (me) (you) (us)