I knew buying your book was a bad idea.

If I had known reading every word of your spontaneous prose would hypnotise me, intoxicating me and leaving me dizzy with infatuation for you

I knew I was in for the trip of a lifetime when I saw your picture whilst repeatedly reciting your poems under my breath

And from that day on all hesitations vanished and everyday was a journey. I had become free, finally embracing carefree philosophies, ripping consciousness and anxiety

Yes, you have awakened the other side of me and put my depression to sleep.

I can’t work any longer, I’m just always too elated

But it’s been fifty years since and you’re nothing but a spirit

Without any means of reaching me but through your writings that don’t talk to me directly

All this heartbreaking proof that all you are is an illusion to me

A fantasy forever unachieved and forever shall it live in your stories.



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