A letter I wrote when I was feeling cynical and annoyed with life. Please don't take it too seriously.
God/Buddha/Zeus/Shiva/Fate/delete as appropriate,
Somewhere in Heaven,
The Great Beyond
(postcode not applicable)
29th of January 2013 (by standard calendar)
Regretfully I am unsure as to how to refer to You, and I hope You will forgive me. I am writing to You because I would like to discuss the unpleasant and, in my opinion, unjust transaction that took place between us before my birth. In this letter I intend to detail my complaint, as well as my request to see you in person in sixty-five to seventy years' time.
I would like to start at the beginning of the series of recent events which distressed me the most. As an omnipresent force You will inevitably be acquainted with my move halfway across the country, and I must hastily express gratitude for the friends You have put in my path. Throughout the first three years of my life here, however, I strongly feel that I have been bombarded with 'opportunities for personal growth', or so the hippies call them. While I try to cultivate a more positive attitude, You have made me a curious, ruminating, and thoughtful kind of person, and thus I find it extroadinarily hard not to appear ungrateful for all the 'blessings in disguise' You have sent me.
One such instance is one that undoubtedly any teenager will have, that of the 'crush', 'first love', et cetera, et cetera. Thanks to the outcome of that burgeoning disaster, I have extreme difficulty believing in the entire concept of relationships. But, in context of my letter to You, I argue that though I was very young and silly at the time (in fact, we both were), You and You only had the power to not make the situation we were in quite so impossible. I think that there was absolutely no need to wave that kind of happiness under my nose, and then send him (and it) far away, with a ghost of a chance of his return. You are familiar with the details, however, a brazen 'it's for the best' is, unfortunately, not satisfactory in my quest to understand why such things are done in this world.
Apparently not satisfied with this upset, You have made sure I am able to frequent a Grammar school whose pace and style of teaching is high-octane and immensely stressful. Do You remember the person you created? The kind that would happily sit in a field in the mountains on a sunny day back in North Italy, with a notepad and pen, and all the time in the world? I knew from the start that my life's calling was to write, but You placed me here, where the Holy Grail is a job in a lawyer's firm or doctor's clinic! I am not built for Mathematics of any kind, and deadlines make my hair fall out! (I will thank You quickly for endowing me with thick, dark, curly hair, trouble though it is, at least it doesn't matter too much if some of it falls out from time to time.)
I remember ten years ago, I was praised for writing stories, but nowadays the market's in essays and poems. Poetry! Eurgh! Why? I have a story in me, but every time I sit down to write it I end up planning essays on my own characters instead. I am now convinced that, in order to survive, I must work incredibly hard (You made me for work, fortunately) to secure top marks (read: As and A*s, everything else is a fail) on eleven different subjects (eleven!) at once (and they say You watch over us?!). The conclusion I have reached is that I shall have to choose another career for my own survival in this money-starved world (You will probably have heard about the economic crises in Italy and Greece, presumably Your 'opportunity for national growth', perhaps?). The only conceivable option is one that would not allow me to write, like I was destined to do. I do not have much of a choice. Surely You will not condemn me to this?
I am not expecting a reply, as this is not a collaborative work and I have marked this work as Completed anyway, but I look forward to our final meeting, in sixty-five or seventy years' time. I look forward to Your explaining Yourself for this - or perhaps, events shall explain themselves.
Your faithful Servant,
J. R. Vandamme
Ps. I would also like to add here on behalf of the rest of the World (so that You are not assailed by letters like this) that starvation, poverty and inequalities of all kinds are still prevalent. Though Socialists and charities are doing their best to promote a more stable world as a whole, they are not doing a very good job. Before You argue that I don't donate that often to sponsoring and fundraising, I usually never have any money to myself anyway, and one Revolutionary cannot change the minds of seven billion people (simultaneously), but my effect, if I were to attempt to make one, could be greatly amplified...with Your help. -Vandamme