Dear Me,
How are You? Haven’t heard from You in a long time, even though I know You are here. Nearby. I haven’t written to You in a while, but I do think about You often, and now is the time.
First of all, I owe You a sincere apology for not believing in You for the last quarter of a century, even though You have been my honest friend. Then I owe You an apology for being easily manipulated, for believing others more than You, for listening to those lies on the outside and silencing You while you were screaming the truth from the inside. I beg You to forgive me for leaving You all alone down there, for wandering and not coming back to You, for leaving You worried.
Out there I saw that pricey things were highly valued even though I knew that things with a true value were priceless. Out there everyone is talking about change but no one wants to change themselves on the inside first. Out there everyone is trying hard to speak as many foreign languages as possible, and no one knows how to be silent in their mother tongue. Out there human souls, by some perverted logic, easily join against something instead of for something. I needed some time but then I realized.
Photo: Igor Morski
Now I know that when I couldn’t sleep because of the noise of other people’s hypocrisy, when my lower jaw gnashed against the upper teeth with fear, when I shook in anger in the face of injustice… that was You. That was You shaking my core, You were the twitch in my jaws caused by bitterness, You were my insomnia screaming from the basement, forcing me to snap out of it and react. And You succeeded.
You waited patiently for this day to come while I studied what was useful, while I loved in vain, and tried to land a great job, and did jobs that brought money… Don’t know where I heard that ridiculous saying and why I ever believed in it, that money brings you security and peace.
I have starved You in the dungeons of my fear for far too long, but here I am now, slapped hard by infidelity, bruised by the shackles of capitalism and with a modern man’s chip ripped out of me, I came to beg You for forgiveness. Maybe I am overdue but I hope I am not too late. Today, old as I am, childishly and naively I believe anew that words can change the world – I have started writing again, when foolishly I am certain anew that one can live on love – I have started loving again, and when, having been cursed with suspicion until now, I trust anew with all my heart in You, i.e. in me – it’s time to set You free.
I’m sorry.
Translated from the Serbian by Svetlana Milivojević-Petrović
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Ovaj post je dostupan i na: Serbian
