Dear fate,
I really don't know what you have in mind, ever since I got here I've
tried to draw your pattern on my wall but no use, you always bring along the
strangest of gifts and without your "Don't throw away" notes they
might have ended up in the trash. They've warned me of writing to the infamous
fate but I had to take my chances and even though I can't define you, we are
somewhat alike; I have a hard time defining myself too. I've mailed you my
wish-lists and you've always sent stuff I couldn't recognize and without a
manual they were, I had to file a complaint because there was always a mistake.
I remember the eraser you gave me, the stranger who taught me how to use it and
the lady who smiled at me for no reason, I guess she probably received one of
your erasers too.
And there you go again with those strange gifts showing at my door.
That creature, we barely get along, he has a goofy smile, I hate him like I've never hated anyone (but I
do want to see him again and I have no idea why). And it all tastes like 2 strange
dishes put together, you will probably end up with a stomach ache (but you
can't help but hide under your bed and eat it all up and crave more all night).
And I push him away, close the door, lock it and put my closet behind it and he
shows up at my window and yes he frequently gets on my nerves and I
can't stand him, I can't look at him but I guess it's because he doesn't know
what he's worth, if he could only see himself in my eyes, if he could only see
his smile from my side, if he only knew I leave the window open on purpose. Oh fate, when I first wrote this I was going
to inquire about the return policy but now I must go because there's
someone at my window.