Dear friend,
I have just wrote you letter few hours ago, but so many things are floating around and I like to share them with you:

Recently I have read a piece from book The hour of the star by Clarice Lispector. Please read small piece as well and think.

“The typist lived in a kind of limbo, hovering between heaven and hell. She had never given any thought to the concept: ‘I am therefore, I am.’ I suspect that she felt she had no right to do so, being a mere accident of nature. A foetus wrapped up in newspaper and thrown on to a rubbish dump. Are there thousands of others like her? Yes, thousands of others who are mere accident of nature. And if one thinks about it carefully, aren’t we all mere accidents of nature? I have only escaped from a similar fate because I am writer.”

***

Later this day I have browse some twitter of my followers and found this note:


# Has it really been 19 years ago today that my dad passed away? I still remember that night so clearly like it was just yesterday.10:05 PM Jul 5th from web


And start wondering how that could be if that was my daughter writings this in some years from now…