Dear Paulo,

I believe in belief that you are reading my letter now.

You may not know me but you know the character into me as you portray in your novel sometimes. Yes, I find myself in “The witch of port folio” or the protagonist in “The fifth mountain.” There is a part of me in every character if not a whole. Your character shares my sorrows, pain, happiness, satisfaction and so on. Actually your character is not me, it is the portion of you, may be shades of you spreading through the plot of the story. If I am your character and they are the part of you, I can make the formula of algebra, which means I am you or vice versa.

Forgive my emotional insanity as the hormone of my body shoots up once in the month, I feel very low at present.  I think of future, insecurity and a lot of unnecessary questions which makes me sad.  I know I will overcome this phase soon. But you are my writer. You should understand me. You can scan my heart and easily diagnose the problem there.  I always imagine you have beautiful eyes which can x-ray the heart of anyone immediately. I wish you were here and see my heart making excuses to cover my hidden feelings.

You said telling a lie to make someone smile is better than telling the truth. I like the idea but I started to ponder can a lie makes the heart lighter? I have no idea if anyone can explain me this.  If this is practiced how do people forget and forgive? Question like this makes me more confused and I wonder if you can only appear in front of me and tell a story using same analogy again.

In some instances, majority of your statements gives me strength to move forward to the eternity where no one knows what is kept for the coming days. But I believe what my dearest writer says, procrastinate or share the ultimate truth of life.

I have a dream to see you somewhere in the world, drinking some red wine and discussing about the protagonist in “The winner stands alone”. As a matter of fact, I was trying to find my dearest narrator all over the story and I could only meet someone disguised in a different robe.  Once again, I am waiting for your next novel, like an addicted person craving for a next dose of heroin.