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Boredom Death Faith Homesickness Life Melancholy other Prose Struggle

Celestial update

Dear Mom I thought that I should write to you to give you an update about myself.

Ive grown, I feel the burden of life settling on me. I never knew how much worry and weight you held off my back until you left. You did all that with your wisdom and love.

I still love life, I still love love, but I do not think it is necessary to keep going. This is contradicting to everything I am about to say, but I know that it is a simple biological hack to our continuity as a species. I still love indefinitely, actually I am now able to love more then ever, but the poetry in it is simply my chemicals composing a beautiful rhyme.

I have become a wiser dad but I dont know what im doing. I could be on the wrong path, I hear you echo instructions of what makes a good or bad parent, but I have to admit, I got no fucking clue.
My daughter reminds me of you, because it is the only person I owe the same amount of love you owed me. Not that I’ve earned it, just assuming I’ve borrowed your love to lend it to her.

I am healthy, in shape, hairline receding, getting in salt and pepper mode, back pain reminds me how shitty the human skeleton design is. I appreciate a good meal but my appetite is not in control, I’d rather fast than eat if I had the choice, knowing pleasure can be more in cooking then in eating. You did that a lot and I’ve never noticed you barely ate during our amazing meals. Now I know it, because the joy of cooking something to keep us happy was more important to you then your own appetite.

I dont care anymore, but it am a better listener. I know peace is the better option, harmony makes living easier, fighting makes everything bitter. I know at the end of the day, life goes on no matter what, and no shit, how big or small, will change the course of all humanity indefinitely. The show will always go on.

I am not affraid to die, not because I cannot see meanings anymore, but because I know that death and life are both of the same construct. They are both the slave of time. Without the linear passing of time, there is no life or death.

I am religious, but my belief is in me knowing that we dont know anything but we simply adapt meanings to fit our own narrative, at a given time and a given place.

I am more thankful for simple things, but I struggle with being in the moment. I bounce between the past and the future too often I forget to focus on the now.

I love my dreams, sometimes they are too vivid, it is like I have 2 lives and they are both still trying to figure out how to live them without you. I did bring you back from the death a 1000 times in my dreams, and each time, my overactive brain reminds me that your body is not there, so I dream deeper to forget.

I am a better professional, but I am scared. Not scared to loose but scared I am doing too much or too little, which makes no fucking sense. One thing I have learned that will always remind me of you, is to do everything right to the maximum of my ability, and fuck those who do not appreciate it. I sleep clean with my head every night knowing I am doing my best.

I am still working hard, but I don’t do it for money. I know one day I will be rich, but could care less about buying or consuming. I have found the most precious things in life are mostly free. Like the sound of leaves on an old tree in the embrace of a light wind, alone with your thoughts, or dining with loved ones, laugh, gossiping, preaching or dancing.

I feel the passing of time is heavy, as if I have done it all, except seeing my daughter become a mother, which if I lived that moment, I will know you were reborn again.

I just wanted to say to you, that I am allright, I miss you deeply and you still echo in every living moment I breath. I Know my tears wont bring you back, I have given up on that, but they help me validate that life, love, faith and everything else, can happen because of one person.

Your son.