Amor fati: Letter to an Unknown Friend

I am allergic to my lovely fate—

Which is to say, its trouble and strife.

In neither case are they to blame;

I can well alleviate the pain

And flinching live, once more, this life,

For I'm a nonesuch doing "great"

Who gets from work a bit of gain,

But wants input—perhaps a wife?

I write, as I always said I would.

We met sometime, but who knows when?

It must have happened, somehow good,

Though truth to tell, your face grows dim.

We never spoke—although we should

Have done so, dear, were now but then.

Wednesday, May 27, 2026