I never said I wanted to be a writer. I never wanted to be a writer. I just thought recording you, you as in the you to me, was important. You are important. Yes, that’s what I meant! You are important. You are momentuous, imperative, urgent yet benign. You are everything and so much more. So much more.

Did you know that?

You are stomachaches in the morning, you are the alphabet ‘i’, you are in everything I write, everything I see, everything I draw in and take out. When I close my eyes, you don’t disappear. You float around like green and purple waves. You are green and purple waves.

And I thought if I recorded you in the ways I see you to be, make you out to be, you just might become more real, more concrete. I want to say I don’t care what the others think, but I want them to see you like I see you. You are the entire galaxy. You are my blanket. You are the fancy pictures in glossy magazines that I tear out and put on my wall. You are every movie I watch. You are books I’ve never read. You are gossamer thin. You are elusive and subtle, intangible and true.

You are my ethereal imagination.
Do you understand now?