Here I am as the same person you asked and never answered, "When I'm gone, will you still write about me the same?" — sitting here, typing this message to you at nine in the morning.
For sure, until I draw my last breath.
Because...
There isn't a day that ends when you're not visiting my thoughts.
The thought that keeps me awake at night.
And the reason I don't want to get out of bed in the morning.
For sure, until the world is out of paper.
I will write till angels are flooded with letters and ask me to stop.
Till heaven became an ocean of my letters.
Hoping to reach you wherever you are.
Flying around, knowing in your heart that you were loved by every inch of my being.
For sure, at that moment, I froze in time.
Because...
That's the only thing you will anchor me, my thoughts of you — your memories.
My longing for you will be ceaseless. Incurable. Haunting.
For sure, through my words I commit to a pyramid of papers, we will continue to exist."
-Jhunamae Moja (Smnllyl, until when?)
JD: 10.15.23
