True friends stab you in the front.

Dear Friend,

I’ve never told you to what extent I did care, how deeply you concerned me in my strongest convictions, but most of all, how I do love you. I never really had the chance to say that to you in a proper way since that either you run away or we did it on each other. I believe you get the picture.

I’m a Man as you are. There’s no point in saying a Son of God once that we diverge in that same point. But though, you feel exactly the same emotions I do, with a different rationality and morality or ethics. I’ve been pursuing the Truth the moment I got its existence. But you know, as Fitzgerald said ‘There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired’; in which of them do you stand? I wonder why we became so ineffectively unconcerned or better, incapable of facing each other. I screamed, I cried, I wondered but further then that, I never got my back on you, it was quite the opposite, I had yours on me. The reason I write you this letter, these ideas and moderations, is the same one that conducted Mankind in all of his reflections: the need of justifying the unknown, either with self believe lies or with pure self believed unjustified truth. The moment I got we would be different, I demanded you nothing what life demands me: coherency. From the moment we took different paths, I demanded nothing but the compromise of following that same path until the end or once looked back, to get the guts of being whispered and joked to come all way back to then go for the less walked path, but in deed, which one? You might believe in invisible energies and the existence of energetic ‘gas stations’ on our body, but once again, how can we be sure of all that? And once on that term, how can we live without being sure of that? The energies you talk my friend, are nowadays seen by me as the correlations people get within each other whenever having a coffee in a random pub after fighting for a car place all day long. So, you might be asking yourself, what’s the problem then? The problem you veteran, is how far you take it. Look at yourself, as you thought me how to do it. Look with the utopic statement ‘no barriers and any misleading concepts’. Can you then tell me what you are? But then, who you are? Can you therefore wonder for a moment, what makes you inside, if there are no barriers with the outside? Can you be yourself? Pardon, can you state that with a convicted justification and a Plato’s sure being aware that furthermore you lye to the one asking you this, you will never me capable of lying to yourself? Then, why do you ignore yourself if what you have been fighting with such ideology is the search for the Truth? My friend, in my own opinion, you have neither been searching the truth or yourself. You have been searching a path to yourself, avoiding all the holes, the gravel and the other cars, in a road where it has always existed, not by option but by nature, you have been trying to build your own road in an attempt to get away such words as pain, sacrifice, guilt, duty, obligation, guts and responsibility, not to me, to yourself. What made me walk back once to never regret what I did was to see that if I’m walking from my house to the river side, there is no point in trying to get the river all away down to my own home. Intelligence is not just confined to know how to make the greatest and remarkable historic happenings to happen. Emotional intelligence is also part of us. The guts to know that you’re pissed with your sister just because so, has absolutely everything to do with the fact that you feel free to feel that same away. I mean, is it right just because you feel so? Just because you assure me that’s the emotion reigning on you? So, where do you stand your rationality? Where do you stand the rationality of your own ‘truth’? Then I wonder, where do you fit the balance between what you feel, and why you feel it? If you don’t, how can you assure me that that’s a source of truth? I’m not in any means saying whose wrong here. I’m just regretting and regarding my ignorance on the paper. You know what, I remember when I met you’re mother for the first time. I remember when I went your home for the first time and I still remember the first time you said something to me. But, on the other hand, I can’t remember when the last time you really listened to me was. I’m not asking you to believe in a merciful and strict and judgmental God once that myself, I took years to get there, and I am still so far away. What I’m asking you, with the coherency I demand to you, is to regard everything you are in a few seconds and then, with the same honestly way that you told me not to believe Him, tell me why. If you get the points all one by one according to your justification, but one plausible, I will get my sword on the sheath and walk way. But if not, if you conclude you just don’t believe him because you don’t want to, because it hurts, because it is hard and it is still a mystery that though you want to, you will never see proved in a positive way, and it is not because it is so unreachable to mundane man that it is wrong, then I beg you not to go away. As I said, I’m not asking you to change an entire life belief in this present moment once that you live in such a world that gets more mad and misplaced at each second I’m writing, I’m asking you to be the man you say you are and get your face upwards on yourself and if you feel proud after wondering every conviction you have then feel it forever, but if it is ashamed you feel, feel it as long as you want it to be there. But please old sport, just don’t call a candle, a lamp, even if both give you the light you need once that the lamp you will turn on and off as long as you wish; a candle, it is just needed a whisper. I could keep on writing about what friends are, what friends mean to me and whatsoever I didn’t tell you the last months we were absent from each other, but I won’t. Just remember that the big fish is the one fishers’ are looking for. The difference is that this net you can either decide whether to be trapped or to go away.

With the best wishes,

João Luis Modesto dos Santos (WW)