February 28th, 2009
Well, I am certainly speechless. Never would I have thought that deep before complimenting one's work until now. If I take it into account, there are one too many great pieces of art that I expressed gratitude for, but not once pondered if I was beautifying more than what it is.
Tell me, am I calling Claude Monet's cataracts a gift from God if I'm calling his artwork a blessing? Are many people receiving acclaim for dying if the public finds the Titanic film very beautiful, trivializing their death? Are the people applauding my best works in fact beautifying my pained childhood? My, what are we truthfully enthusiastically praising? It's much to think about, isn't it?
But if I may ask, my dear Elaine, what is it am I exactly beautifying about you? Pain, but what specifically? Am I beautifying anxiety? Depression? Loneliness? Whatever you may say, remember that it will only be kept between our letters the mailman delivers.
With love,
M
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With Love ◛ Michael Jackson
FanfictionAfter the death of an aspiring writer's mother, she sends letters to her void address to cope. But what she doesn't know is the address is occupied and that her letters have been read by someone else until he writes back. This Is It era Afro British...
