Philosophical Letters: In Memorian
As you can see, on the paper there are some black spots, they are made of ink. Some letters are more marked, others are lighter, since the nib does not have a reservoir like fountain pens.
My fingers are stained, this ink has no scent, it is time to clean up my fingers.
I think that you're thinking why I didn't use a chat to say Merry Christmas, well this letter is the only tool to say to a care person that, in your face I want to always see the sun, never the darkness.
I'll get straight to the point, I red a poem written by Lord Tennynson, let me explain my deep thoughts possible only through this letter with my fingerprints, and a lot of time to write a word.
This year is almost at the end, it's cold, the landscape is shrouded in a white blanket, but looking carefully at the snow I see that it's dirty. It is not immaculate how it could appear, it is my evil who is contaminating my good. I heard the bells of a distant church, my wish is that it will sweep it away at least for a day.
In the poem "In Memoriam AHH .." I saw the painting of Vincent Van Gogh. "Starry Night" where the evil is devouring the light, but it cannot obscure the church, where the wind shapes the good and evil.
In my mind all kinds of negativities, the light is feeble. Everything is white it is impossible to make a distinction between good and evil.
in my mind rings in a fair life, it is over there, I see it, I need a millimetre to touch it, no way, I'm frozen in a world without distinctions, only the sun can defrost mankind, toward a warm place
My fingers are stained, this ink has no scent, it is time to clean up my fingers.
I think that you're thinking why I didn't use a chat to say Merry Christmas, well this letter is the only tool to say to a care person that, in your face I want to always see the sun, never the darkness.
I'll get straight to the point, I red a poem written by Lord Tennynson, let me explain my deep thoughts possible only through this letter with my fingerprints, and a lot of time to write a word.
This year is almost at the end, it's cold, the landscape is shrouded in a white blanket, but looking carefully at the snow I see that it's dirty. It is not immaculate how it could appear, it is my evil who is contaminating my good. I heard the bells of a distant church, my wish is that it will sweep it away at least for a day.
In the poem "In Memoriam AHH .." I saw the painting of Vincent Van Gogh. "Starry Night" where the evil is devouring the light, but it cannot obscure the church, where the wind shapes the good and evil.
In my mind all kinds of negativities, the light is feeble. Everything is white it is impossible to make a distinction between good and evil.
in my mind rings in a fair life, it is over there, I see it, I need a millimetre to touch it, no way, I'm frozen in a world without distinctions, only the sun can defrost mankind, toward a warm place
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