How have you been? I should’ve returned your call sooner than later. I deeply apologize; I really do. This perhaps is the first time I’m returning you a reply despite your repeated knocks at my doorstep. I write this out to you as I stand here at the cusp of realization; as an adult whom I would say has lost his way traversing the well trodden path rather than cult one up for himself. One among-st the many. Yes, I agree; ironic indeed. I sit here, brooding over all that you had whispered to me over these years past. Of all those thoughts you’ve shared, of all those times when you’ve asked me to hold back and those times where you’ve asked me to fire away. But, in all those moments, I fear, I’ve failed you miserably. I should’ve not. Retrospection, rather than regret would be a more apt way of viewing my reconciliation towards you. I would like to let you know that I now hold you in the highest of my regards, just like those many voices like mine who’re gearing up to treat you the same as they turn 25 this year and in years to come.
The shout outs of a 25 year old is in every way, a very lone voice of descent. He shouts his lungs out but, none to lend him an ear. He stumbles, but none, to pull him back up. He becomes an idol of not worship, but rather of mockery and sarcasm. His every step, his every move, scrutinized for reasons most bizarre. The longing for a voice as surreal as yours to take up a form in person is immense. It’s not a question of a choice of good over evil but more of a question of right over wrong, for in most cases what is good needn’t always necessarily be what is right. The mind is troubled indeed. It lacks the sense of direction it once had.
I write this out to thee, to where ever is it that you may reside to lend me an ear, to pull me out, to idolize my very train of thoughts, to galvanize it from whatever it is that may turn it to rust.