Walk With You

Dear Freddie,

Even though I'm an atheist and I don't believe in angels or whatever, I'm still going to speak to you as if you are here, because...it keeps me sane, I suppose. It's a psychological thing. And I desperately wish it were true. Sometimes I imagine your presence in my bedroom, but then I think, "It's just me being paranoid again." That feeling gives me goosebumps and while I'd be startled at first if you appeared, I would eventually relax, and then cry, and then speak to you. Anyhow, here I am writing a letter to you as if you could read my mind (if you can, I am only slightly embarrassed, but also grateful, because you know what I'm feeling and don't underestimate me).

I've written many other letters to you, but I still gripped for dear life the slippery notion that you are actually here. But now I know you aren't. But you know what? I think I'm okay with that. Because while you are experiencing non-existence, the world still experiences you. You are a legend, and I feel that it is my duty to make sure you stay that way. Hopefully generations beyond mine will continue to keep your musical spirit alive. I hope that in one hundred years, the distant echo of your voice will whisper in the minds of techies who have radios installed in their heads.

Last night, as I lay down to bed, everything was very sharp - visually and mentally. Colours stood out and my mind was completely in the moment. And, of course, I was talking to myself. I have no idea what it was. Was it meditation? Was it insanity? Or was it a very powerful consciousness? The sensation was liberating for a few minutes, but then I started creeping myself out, so I turned my head into my pillow, closed my eyes, and shut off my brain.

Now, I want to experience it again. I'm not sure what it's like to be stoned, but I'm almost positive that what happened was the polar opposite of being high. Reality seemed so lucid, and my senses were on high alert. I realised that during most of waking hours, though I am fully awake, my mind is a still a blur of activity and motion. Stillness and serenity doesn't fit into my daily schedule.

I am a creature of the night, don't you think? That's when emotions are soaring, and when I am most likely to open up even the things I don't speak of in daylight (you should know that I am very outspoken, and can rarely keep one of my own secrets). At night, the secrets I do have are boiling at the surface, and I analyse them. Night is when I trust my mind. It is when I don't judge myself, and I forgive myself, and I worry about other people's well being. During the day, I admit, I am self-centered. Not conceited, not narcissistic - just self-centered. But when sun sets and I take off my shades, that is when I am most vulnerable and compassionate.

For instance, I have a friend; I can be pretty harsh about him when I speak of him to my other friends, and I'm often irritated at him. Except now I feel sympathy, because I realise that, of course, he is only human! And I sense that he isn't very, well, emotionally stable, so I feel bad for contributing to his torment, because he's always putting himself down. I also feel like a back-stabber. He tells me all sorts of secrets and I feel like I know him very well, and so shouldn't I be aware of his humanity? Shouldn't I defend him more than I harass him? So what if he acts a bit ridiculous and immature at times? It just bothers me that I seem to have such a hard time getting along with him, when he confides in me and when he has good intentions.

I think I should apologise, and clear up with my other friend that, I understand her dislike for him, but I'm not going to take sides anymore. I don't want to devalue his humanity. Because if I devalue his humanity, I will get in the habit of devaluing the humanity of others, and become a bitter person. It shouldn't be hard; he's a friend. It's much more difficult to accept the humanity of people who hate people like me. So if I can't even train myself to love my friends, however annoying they are, how can I love my enemies?

Have you noticed, Freddie, that this seems to be my theme in life right now? Realising the vulnerability of individuals? Some are pigs, some are stolid, some are quivering masses of doubt; but we're all worth the same amount, right?

I should walk the walk. And you know that I'm going to walk it with you.

Love you always,

Kaytee.