Singapore.
There are a lot of things I know but one thing I did not
know was you. This feels like the last time I am going to visit you. Something changed
about you, I grew fonder. I was inspired. To read, to write to love. Love
myself, of course. Even though what I have for you is definitely not love, but there is something about you now, that
made me fond of you. I thank you for
being amazing this time. I met some
amazing people within you today. I found some amazing spots, went to my dream
places. Places I had always wanted to visit as a kid. I spent quality time with
you. I moved along to my music. I worked on my dreams, I saw myself where I want
to see myself and you gave me hope that I will get there. Quite soon. Dousing my
cigarette, taking a sip of my beer, here is my open letter to you. You deserve one.
Before coming here, I was in a very weird place. Getting drunk
way faster than usual. Hanging out with people who constantly used to defy me. Deny
me the right of being right. I was bitter. The kind of bitter that you do not realize
until the bitterness hits you in the back of your tongue, travelling all the
way down through your esophagus and finally spreading inside your entire body. Creating
a bitter person, one who would see the negative in everything. One who would
talk about things in the most disgusting way one could imagine. What was worse
than being bitter was the fact that I was somehow, enjoying it. It became my
own little piece of heaven. The kind of heaven which is not talked about. The kind
of heaven, which cannot be described by words. Which cannot be described by
art. I was there and I enjoyed every part of it. But not anymore.
Before coming here, I was skeptical. I was not sure about
how I was going to cope with anything. I had just left my favorite café, on my
way to visit a friend. It was then when everything changed. It was then when I tasted
that bitterness within me. And I did not like it one bit. But I could feel it
leaving my body. As I sat there, at the bus stop, waiting to be exposed to the
expressions of tired and bored people who were to commute in the same vehicle
as me, I could feel it, leaving each and every crevice of my body. That was
when I knew, that I will not be coming back to you again. That was when I realized
that I would actually miss you. I went to the beach after that. Seeing the
waves crashing against each other has always calmed the storm within me.
I could feel my intuition getting stronger by the day. I was
meeting people who had nothing but just positive energy around them. I could
feel myself being that person I was once, happy, and full of joy. The person
who would find little joys in everything around her. The person who could see
her pain and be able to joke about it. The person, who could see her pain and
be able to
Joke about it.
There is nothing better than being complimented for the way
you think. At least for me. When people start talking me, they tell me things
about me, like they have never met anybody like me. That they have never seen
anybody like me. That they have never known anybody like me who thinks the way I
do. Does things the way I do. I do not want to be told I am beautiful, or hot,
or pretty. I am past that stage where I wanted people to just flock towards me
for the way I look, dress and carry myself off. I want to know that what makes
me different. What makes them want to talk to me apart from my look. I want
them to tell me things they do not understand so that we can understand them
together. I want them to show me the way they see things so I can be able to
see them too. I want to see from their viewpoints. I want to think in every way
one can think. What makes them think the way they think what they do? What
makes them be the way they are? What makes them bitter, so that we can figure a
way out to get that taste out of their system. So that we can figure out a way
to make them understand the taste of bitterness just in hopes that if they feel
that way the next time, they can figure out what is wrong before it is too
late.
I do not really know how else I can extend my thanks to you.
I do not know what other way I can make you see what you have done for me. The only
things I know when it comes to expression is that I can put them in words. I hope
you will understand if this may not seem enough. I hope you will understand
like you made me understand.
Today is my last night in town. We have ridden in the waves
of excessive alcohol. We have danced in the smoke my cigarettes have given out.
We have shone bright in the dim places where people are too scared to dance. We
have fallen in love with ourselves and we have seen what it is to be like
respected. We have slept in the mornings in places that do not belong to us. With
people who want to see us again and again. These are the things I have done
with you. These are the things we have done with each other. And I can only say
thank you. And I can only say,
Grazie.
Grazie mille.
