This too shall last

A Fictional Letter by Inês Filipe

The pieces didn’t fit quite naturally

I used to watch things always from the outside
All people. All professions. All jobs.
Never being quite specialized in anything but me.
At least specialized in anything that could matter.
To the other people. To the other professions. To the other jobs.
I guess I called myself an outsider. Of my inner thoughts.

Never ran into a deep path that could lead me into aligned stars
Until I started to realized there could be other outsiders just as me.
Just as the planets could collide, I could bump into other human beings.
And from this encounter, something could be born into this world

This happened only once in life.
How long ago?
It doesn’t matter anymore.
From the outside, we were able to give hands
and to fit into each other thoughts.

This happened only once in life.
But lyrics will be heard until the end of times.
From all people. All professions. All jobs.
Lyrics will remain, aligned with love rhythms.

How to crash into someone allowing this to happen?
You have to be open, naively open, selflessly open.
You have to let it be and then you have to let it go.

The third eye
Will never die.


Photography and Words by: Inês Filipe