Today I woke up from my deep sleep. I was tangled with my existentialism doubts : was there a purpose for me to be here? I decided to get a pen and start writing a letter, precisely for you. Yes, you, the one holding this letter in your hands, the letter you found flying in the wind, between the skyscrapers and some old buildings of my city. A letter about the world, the letter that means the world to me.

I don't expect you to understand what I've been through. I was told that it is normal to have phases like that, where you question your role in the world, but this phase has lasted all my life, so it wasn't a phase, it was a deep sleep, from which I didn't desire to wake up from, at least until I got my answers. When you question your role in this world, that seams so unfair and vain, that phase is not considered normal by the society, rather it is looked upon like a proof of abnormality. But now I am a new woman.

Imagine this, an everlasting manifest against the things who thing are wrong in society, a manifest that costs so much to you, and in the end has no effect at all? I was never struck by negativity, so yes, this is not a negative letter, yet, the world , itself can have a negative side. I used to have dreams, which I wished to accomplish but as my life was going on, I feared that some wouldn't come true and some where definitely lost along the way.

I could write a letter to my lover, to my family or to my friends, but that wouldn't be meaningful enough. This letter is in the hands of a big question mark." Who are you?", I ask you through this letter and you could ask the same to me... I can't answer that, and who you are I'll never know. It is a big world. It is infinite number of crossed lines, of crossed lives, so yes, I played with destiny, and this letter might be in fact in the hands of the boy next door or a foreign that found the letter just before going to the airport.

But I didn't want to talk about destiny, I wanted to make you to think. Most of the people walking around haven't had five minutes of reflection in their whole lives. That's what makes the society what it is now, yet I could fit in, I don't want to.

So yes, I said I was a new woman, right? I lied. I just woke up to write this letter, and I'm going back to my deep sleep again. Confusing as my words might seem to you, I have to go on for a little more.

Don't alienate from your true self, if you loose it, you might never get it back.

Rita