Love letter #1

I had resolved to start distributing love letters to you on the first day of 2013. Today I present the first one. It’s the 19th day! but who’s keeping track? ha!

Dear World,

In Suburbia, where I’m from, waking up is such a pleasure. My ears open up to the sweet sounds of birds on the tree outside my bedroom window, the rustling of leaves as insects pass through and dogs barking their throats out. My eyes are greeted with the beckoning dawn and the stillness of the atmosphere. My nose is greeted with breathable air that promises not to disturb my sinuses. My fellow Suburban people are courteous and kind beings. They do what should be done at the right times. Obedience to rules and regulations are the order of their days. Gosh I love them! This is what I’m used to and this is what I love.

Now that school is in session though, I have to leave my place of zen and go to the “city” to learn and further my education with the natives for convenience because I go to school in the world. My parents said the aim was for me to be well rounded – whatever.  I wake up to loud car, bus and truck horns and mufflers; the squealing of tires on asphalt & concrete laden roads as well as the loud racketing music that passes by. I wake to loud leaf blowers and lawn mowers and regular morning announcements. My nose gets greeted with smog and nasty air particles to trigger my allergies. You force me to adjust to this lifestyle, one that I truly hate.

I feel the love you give to me. I really do.

On the way to school I witness your native pedestrians crossing roadways on the green light, vehicles driving through red lights and the amber – well, it seems you should just take it off the grid. Potential bus passengers bundle instead of forming queues, taxi operators and bus operators take more than the stipulated number of passengers and most if not all are very ill-mannered. I have to interact with these people day in and day out. Pure joy.

I know you see me enjoying this interaction. You love it don’t you?

Suburban social life is set at my home with family, friends and neighbours (we value this type of interaction). Every now and then we venture into the world to mingle with the natives. We try to tolerate them. The native men see us Suburban girls as fresh alien meat to pounce upon and possibly try to devour. We have no room to breathe your dirty air. Your native females think the same of our Suburban men. I think you should teach them how to get a hold of themselves. ‘Tis very unattractive. Your natives are loud drunkards who are reckless right across the board. I think you should consider attaching “DANGER” to their titles.

Suburban ideals of fun and World ideals of fun differ.You know this and yet you try to change our fun when we mix and mingle with your natives. Okay, okay, so it’s partially on us as well because we venture purposely to your side to have our fun. You call it “having fun at your own risk”. Just watch your people. You think we love them but really – they’re hazardous. I know you love us but we love you enough to ask you to give us Suburban folks a break.

And finally. I know you love us here in Suburbia but I implore you. Tell your natives to stay away if they mean us no good. We love you too but we can not tolerate your native men and women coming here to torment us. Your people harm us while they steal and deface our property. What’s up with that? We inflict no harm to your natives, World. Suburban folks like myself are seen as alien to you. Damn it, we come in peace. Calm the wicked ways of your natives dear World. Please.

Thanks.

P.S – I will send another love letter to you soon

Signed with love

Candice K.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Simeca says:

    So am I to assume that Suburbia is not of or in the “World”?

    1. Assumption is almost correct. Suburbia is essentially my home (not just the physical structure) and my place of total comfort which includes those close to me. I personify the World like we are acquaintances or even friends. The World knows me and I’m trying to figure out the ways of the World.

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