Tag Archives: open letter

An Open Letter to my Dad


24th December 2005 to 24th December 2014.

9 whole years and counting.

It’s been a long time, dad. (The only way I can use that word anymore is by writing it because I certainly can’t say it to anyone else.)

I thought you’d be curious about what’s been going down here. We’ve got phones with as many megapixels as your old camera that you used to take family photos and preserve memories with. In general, 3D movies have gotten better. You missed Inception and Interstellar and I think you would have liked the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean movie just as much as the first. My Play Station 2 has remained boxed up for years, not so much fun to play without you in the living room. Things are not the same.

After you died, Molly wouldn’t come out of her cage for months, making me realize that birds grieve just as much as their human counterparts. Poor thing didn’t know what happened and now I am twenty years old, questioning religion, resenting my luck and catapulting into a quarter-life crisis, feeling like maybe I am the one who does not know what happened. Molly must have forgotten while I continually remember.

I seek comfort in imagining the afterlife. Yours. If Albus Dumbledore was indeed right, that to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure, I am sure yours is just that, perhaps more.

Now tell me…

what am I missing?


An ever grieving daughter


To all the musicians out there…

To all the musicians out there…

Thank you. Whether I like your music or not, there is someone out there whose heart you’ve touched with your music. A safe place  you’ve given them the minute they plug in their headphones. A feeling like no other. That is a gift. So don’t let anyone stop you. Because the world would be a terrible place without your art.


Those who are drowning in the depth of your voices (in the good kind of way)

I dislike those who bash on other people’s taste in music as if their’s is superior. Liking pop stars doesn’t mean your taste is stupid like some people like to point out. What is stupid is that they don’t understand that music is music and that there is an audience for every artist. Respect them all.

Dear Once Upon a Time

Dear Once Upon a Time,

For once, you are not going to be the start of a piece of written work because guess what? I’m in charge and you will not get another fifteen seconds in the limelight.

To start off, let me fill you in on all the things that I think about you:

1. You hog all the attention simply because you’re the precedent.

2. You set the tone and drive a story.

3. You take me for granted.

People think that we go together like peanut butter and jelly or like Laurel and Hardy but they have no idea what it’s like to put up with your cocky arrogance. You make a mess and then I have to come to the rescue, cleaning up the breakage.

Having said all this I can honestly say I don’t like you very much. Because you will always be first and I will always be last.

Sincerely yours,

The End



An Open Letter to the Monster Under My Bed

Dear Monster under the Bed,

There are times when I just sit in the dark and my thoughts turn to you. I know that the more I think of you, the more you think of me.

You’re the only form of company I have and it seems as if I’m yours. We’ve been sharing the same bed for too long to be anything else, nothing but two sides of the same mattress.Though, I’m unsure which side is murkier… I’ve gotten to be quite close to the demons dancing in my mind.

And you’ve heard all my dirty dark secrets, the words I whisper to myself and the things I can’t say beyond the four walls of my room. Sometimes it’s as if someone is listening but it’s always been you. Only you.

The tears I’ve cried into the pillow have seeped below my bed till you soaked it up like a blanket. You must be intoxicated from the sadness like I am  when I’m drinking my time away.

We’re a dysfunctional pair that can’t live without the other. We’re more alike than you think. You know me better than anyone else. There may be a reason for that.

Because we’re not enemies. We’re not friends.

We’re the same.

sincerely yours,

The Monster above the Bed

p.s See you on the other side (pun intended).

a/n: I’m obsessed with The Monster. Eminem and Rihanna seriously need to record a whole album, I swear.