Dear Sir,

Dear Sir, Are you afraid?

Afraid of what?

Are you afraid that you are becoming dispensable. That tomorrow, people will wake up and see through the hypocrisy that are your thoughts? That your knowledge was never really your own, just a borrowed chapter to flower your ideals.....

All knowledge is borrowed, my dear. We are vessels that have a need to contain substance. Each with our own twist of flavour and zest. Without that, I would be empty and hollow. The substance might not be my own, but I will try my best to extract the holiest of water from the holiest of rivers, the spiciest flavours, from the wildest fields, and the sweetest sugars from the most colorful hearts. My vessel will be a spot of bringing together for a thing known but for things unknown. And together, when all is said and done, I would have created new knowledge. Unique and scrumptious, waiting for someone else to add it to their vessel.

At the end of the day, these thoughts are never my own. Words are always borrowed from dictionaries written by other people. Actions are mimicked, songs are covered, and philosophies are relived by different souls. It is true, the strive for our uniqueness, or our meaningfulness is sometimes lost in this confusing world that never seems truly ours. But I don't worry because I know that with every new taste I add to my vessel, and share with someone else, I am giving in to a system that was never my own, but embraces me with open arms to become a part of. Today I am standing at the edge of this sphere of understanding, and tomorrow I will take one small step towards the center, and the next day I will take another, until one day I reach the core of it all.

And maybe when I reach there, I might just find my soul...

So I guess, yes... I am a little afraid.