Writing is a way to organize my feelings and thoughts. Here I am in front of a friend who accepts everything I say without judgments. An imaginary perfect friend who will not try to answer every question or doubt I have. A friend that will listen and not question if what I say is true or false. It will let me go out of myself and let me return whenever I feel like. It will not keep asking me to come back and put my feet on the ground. It knows I can fly and I know how to land. It understands that minds need wandering. That every spirit is free to commit their million-mistakes over and over again until they get tired and learn from them. If I mean what I say or if I say what I mean, that is none of anybodies’ business. And it knows that. It respects my humanity.