Dear Friend 10

Dear Friend,

I'm sorry I haven't written to you in a while. Today is a special day. It is someone's birthday. This someone could be important to my life. Mainly because she exists in my mind too long, too often.

Below is an interesting quote from Bruce Lee:

"Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless, like water.
Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup
you put water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle
you put water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot
Now water can flow, or it can crash
be water my friend"

I was intrigued by how he said it. He had that sense of assurance in his speech, a kind of certainty that seems to come with knowledge and understanding. The way he spoke made it seem profound, even though, it's quite ordinary.

"a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their
application would be incomplete without it"

What is interesting about me? What is central to my identity?

1. Dual Cultural Identity
2. Passion for Science
3. Interest in Music
4. Interest in community service
5. Love for nature

I need a specific event.

Day 1:

Dear Writer's Block,

It's not you, it's me. I have been watching you across the street since last week. Ever since you guys came into the neighbourhood, my writing has been stagnant. I first became suspicious of you when you first moved in in that white van. I assumed that you had a lot of furniture, but I was shocked to see that all you had in that van was a stack of papers. I said hello to you, but you ignored me, and I really hate people like that.

When I wanted to write about your arrival on the day itself, my computer crashed. When I decided to write on a piece of foolscap, I became distracted by the peculiar colour of my ink pen. When I tried to write about your arrival the next day, I suddenly became fascinated by manga.

I know you have been spying on me. Behind those green curtains of yours I occasionally see a flicker of reflected light that must have come from your binoculars. I have drew my curtains, and I secretly spy on you through means which you will never know of. Be warned!!!

I should probably address the fact that there are several of you. Writer living in the first level of the block, could you please use some dynamics in your music? I know you practise the violin, I can hear it from hear. But your music is emotionless, just like your writing. Writer living on the second level, how the hell did you manage to vandalise the exterior of your own building? Blue, black, iodine coloured paint on a reddish, iron precipitate coloured wall. That's disgusting, and no one understands your drawing. What's that squarish thing on the wall? Could you make more sense? And writer living on the highest level, remove that lego block from your windowsill, it's annoying me.

Anyway, this letter is for me, not you.

Regards,
The Retard living opposite