My dearest melancholic friend,

I dare you to joke with life itself, it is an utter comedy, a tragic death of our own idea about life.
Unfulfilled and yet still undesired, life, in such a peculiar way shows her real face, I can see now, no man can cheat happiness.
No man can be enough.
We fight one another in a battle that has been already defeated by ourselves, our fears and ego.
Which land can sustain such tragedy and which capacity can bare it?
Less than a human and more like an animal the will grows spiral, imagination is the extend or the safe trap for all this hollowness.
My friend, whose dreams and desires shattered unexpected we still fight for something greater than this.
It is our lives that need to be protected and bare that our existence will meet happiness at last.

For my incompetent comfort to understand
and my will to love

Foteini