Dear little one,
My eye. Song of my frightful heart.
Always remember who you are. Drink each cup of sorrow with great laughter and spit it out in a fountain of wonder and love. Sink your teeth deep into the apples of your imagination and let each core that’s covered in your bitemarks be a phantasmagorical universe of what you create.
Sing in binary and compose pixelated melodies of your soul. Let no one ever tell you that you weren’t good enough. And dance my precious, like a Nataraja on the voices that try to destroy you even when your feet can’t carry you anymore.
Love deep and with all the worlds passion, regardless if it would split in you half.
Dear little one. Fight. Even when the Earth has opened and tries to devour you alive and each cell in your body cries out in pain. Fight.
Fight for each song in your frightful heart.
What would you tell your younger self?