Notes to a Stranger.

Hello stranger, the object of my lust and hope of peace in life.

In some future, we shall meet, and things will be perfect thereafter. I’m supposed to be waiting for the elusive you after having lost perhaps a few folks who I thought were you, but evidently in the sight of things that have befallen since, were definitely not, a poor choice maybe, a necessary experience as well, and maybe just one step closer to finding you, as the trophy in my life, the one who made it all worth doing. I suppose you’re also going through the trials and tribulations of your life in the same manner, although I hope with better poise than me, as of course I will settle for no one less than perfect – and that to me means more confidence and swagger than I carry. Your life should be more perfect than mine, as only then the Union of our fates should be rationally worthwhile for me, else, it will never equalise the ripples of our acquaintance.

You should read Joyce, and be capable of waxing eloquent about his famous works as well as infamous letters – a kind which you secretly imitate in messages to me – so that I feel a sense of pride in your company. You should be working not as a slave, stuck in his role as many others around me, ever since they got out of business schools, but rather as a proud contributor to something you believe in, and truly are inspired by. I’ll bring to your life unpredictability, imagination and passion that’ll blow your mind. Life will be an adventure as I’ll show you how to look for new experiences and create a life that you’ll be delighted of having had. I can promise you this. What do you think? Are you even looking for me?