The forth letter..

Dear N,

It’s been a long while, a really long while, since I have been immersed in such a unique text. You speak of praise, my friend, and it is all back at you now. Do you write somewhere? I would like to know.

The blog was closed because I was having a sadly usual episode of trouble with writing. Some unfortunate events had transpired in my life and led me to lose my skill at making peace between breathing and writing. You talked about small pieces of guilt. I’m not sure they are small pieces of guilt; rather large rocks of misery (I confess weakness of simile here, in candidness, hopefully). Trying to justly articulate the mishap has always been a failure, so in simple words, I just couldn’t write anymore and sleep well the same night. The purpose behind writing was stolen from me, and cast in some abyss, for the third time.

I’m going to make a conjecture and say that you had that dream three months ago; which is around the time I closed the blog. I hope I wouldn’t sound too tenacious, but from your first text I had the impression you’d had it the very morning you sent it? I still can’t paint a timeline of your interesting affairs. (There was a smile on my face as I wrote affairs).

About the dream, well, I’m usually very conservative about it; I really don’t know what it means. It’s been years. I’m going to let you know about a couple of very interesting things, though.

In your dream you’d just seen me by the window. It wasn’t shown to you; I was indeed looking at a full moon with its glorious large mares, contrasted to the white of the rest of its surface. It was thinly clear to me, I could even see sparkles, and it was as if I was looking over people there. What appeared to you as being startled was me stunningly taken aback by actually spotting some sort of movement on the surface! From that far! I’m not sure if they were the maria somehow regrouping, or if the semblance of a head there had made what was very close to, okay, to a smile! It was very frightening. I have no recollection of what urged me to go to our guestroom after that, but it’s not that I was afraid.

The second thing; well, I have spent like five years after that trying to search for ‘Ehaba’. The numerous nights of my life when it happened that I’d be wearing those red PJs of mine (yes, I actually still have those and I’m wearing them right now, they’re very old and worn out, but I love them), and go to our balcony and look at the full moon, probably waiting for a cosmic miracle to happen, well, those nights were quite cool. I’m not sure if saying that some very special events in my life had been oddly synchronized with full moons is of any importance, but oh well, that happened as well.

The very interesting thing I’m about to tell you, N, is that during one night overloaded with spare time, I had persevered on google and located a document about cosmology. It was describing some religious traditions of an Asian tribe that lives in some deserted part of India, their language is now extinct, it supposed. The people of that ancient tribe used to have two calendar happenings that I think are related to the phases of the moon. And guess what, both of those events were enunciated in that ancient language, describing both phases of the moon amongst which was the full moon itself, in a tone that has ehaba in it. The transliteration in the document described both names, and both were suffixed with ‘-ehaba’. I kept that document for some other years, and now I lost it. We can google it again. I think I’ll leave that to you. Let me know how it feels.

What does it all mean? Probably nothing. Sometimes I think that I’ve given enough thought to that night, and that I should just appreciate how special and very beautiful it was, and move on.

I end my letter with informing you that although I’m not sure about it yet, I don’t intend to stop the flow of our messages sooner than you would, if you feel like you should.

Yours,

ibhog

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