Dear You, There are a few things that have been crossing my mind for the past week now. I will imply them in this letter purposely written to you. This love letter.  

There is a beautiful love story that has me going crazy. The love story of the pen and the paper. 


My stories, I feel are good, but not good enough for your beautiful ears and attention. But I'll tell you anyways. So as Absence music is playing in the background of my computer right this moment, I have decided to write you a love letter. A love letter for nothing at all other than for the sake of writing. A love letter to you to show you how much time I have on my hand. A love letter to show you that my mind is blowing with thoughts and seriously, I am half  insane at the moment with thoughts of creativity. A love letter to show you just how uncreative and untalented I am at doing this, but I find peace and happiness in doing it anyways. A love letter to help make you want to feel inspired to do anything creative or not, but just to do anything. A love letter to show you how love letters should not look like. A love letter to keep you reading about why I'm writing a love letter. A love letter that will never be able to justify why I am writing this love  letter. Ray Bradbury once said, "You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you."~ So in this little space of time, I will not think about tomorrow or the effects of this love letter, I will stay drunk, and totally smitten by nothing other than the power of thoughts and the complete saturation of writing. 


My love, a million and one times, we have had dreams to go places, to see things, experience far out of the ordinary and the common to us, and yet we stay right in this same bed, under this same blanket, with maybe newer music playing and maybe cleaner clothes, and maybe a different mindset, but we are still here. We haven't moved. We have lied to ourselves that the normal is normal and the extraordinary is pain and confusion. We refuse to break the bonds of fear of the unknown from our utter satisfaction which awaits at the very beginning even. We refuse to see creativity in our peers because we do not want them to progress. We say, if I am not moving, then neither are you. We are selfish. And maybe selfishness isn't such a bad thing after all. Because If we really are as selfish as we have been blamed to be, then maybe just maybe we would be happier; we would have actually travelled to the places we want to travel to and love, truly love the darnest little things and not feel so abnormal for loving them.  We need to move darling. Don't follow your dreams, chase them. 

Something else for you which I realized: There is a child out there who does not want to go to school; but he/she is forced to go because of the status quo. This child could be singing, or playing a violin; this child could be dancing, painting, this child could be happy and better yet, making a million people happy. This child will waste years and years following fear and being contained in four walls, instead of doing what they really love. There is a little child out there who just wants to play in the mud.  

BOOKS!!

The other day on my day off, I had a date with one of my friends to meet at Borders so we could read books till we hate them. Well, he bailed; but I just couldn't resist the thought. The idea sounded perfect, so I went for it. Six hours at borders and with three books down my belt, I felt like I had travelled into space and time, and came back with knowledge that all the teachers in this world combined could not attain. I read so many history novels and they were full of marvels. Yesterday, I literally stumbled upon a book by Mother Teresa at Borders. I was on my way to the History section, all the way to the cozy back of Borders, and then there on the floor was this book by Mother Teresa. I picked it up and dusted it off. I was about to put it back on the shelf then unknowingly, I found myself opening the first page. I glanced through the first chapter of this book my love, and I read Beauty. I didn't put the book down for another three hours. With my starbucks latte at hand and the carpet at my disposal, I sat on the floor and travelled through Mother Teresa's mind. She was wise. I wish I had met her. You might feel the same if you read her books. In this book, the author spoke of God's  Love. It said, and I quote, "God is Love. And He has created us to love and to be loved. if we could remember that all the time, there would be no wars, no hatred in the world. So beautiful, So simple." This book also shows Mother Teresa's take on a lot of simple things that we choose to make difficult. "Poor people give us much more than we give to them-because they give us an opportunity to love God in them." 

Poverty must be so beautiful in heaven if Jesus became so small-childlike simplicity, animals- must be so beautiful in heaven. Jesus came as the son of a carpenter, born in a manger surrounded by animals. It is not that Jesus could not have it but He chose not to. He could have come like a king in a palace.  

Books are a good deed  darling. 

Paint!!

Paint darling. If anything, paint! No one can tell you that you cannot paint. Just paint. Relieve your stress so you can finally sleep at night and have good, sweet dreams that you'd just love love to tell me tomorrow. My love, if you cannot do anything, the one thing you can do is paint. Think of the millions of people who are dying of boredom, boredom of the norm. Please paint. Their eye balls want to see something new, something different. They are tired of admiring the old ones. Just paint. Take them to Spain and land them in Madagascar; my darling love, just paint. They want to feel something new. And if you are afraid, ask yourself," The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?" Leave a mark in this world that you tell me you admire so much. Leave your little mark; I will support you.   

Sincerely, Elisa

xoxo.  MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!