My son.

I'm more proud of you than you could ever know. All your misgivings, slurred words and impurities make you a broken treasure to behold.

As you walk down the path of youthful self-destruction I see in you myself walking the same path thirty years ago. The path will eat you alive and yet, at the same time, you will devour every square inch of it which falls under your feet; like the Egyptian snake devouring itself. You need to grow, as I have and as others before me have.

The road is long and laid by another's hand. The question is this: will you walk your own road? Will you have the courage to flout the compass and the stars and walk with the faint murmerings of the heart? When I die I will see you on the crossroads of your life. I will hold a sign. I will hold a sign and you will know what it means; you will know the direction to which I point.

One day you may see in the mirror your old man. But you're not me. I have shaped you out of dough and set you baking. May you rise in the oven of life and fill with the effervescense of experience. You will see me in the mirror next to you but we will never merge.

I will kiss your head like I did when you were a child. Words come few and actions are often impotent but you have been taught well. You have been taught well because you have been taught that there is no one way to live. Carry on, my son. Carry on.

One day you will love. You might marry; but, in your case, maybe you won't. You might have a child and question why. Life might seem meaningless but it's all we have. We must carry on, like dust blown from the great unknown. Having a child is just another experience. Life is renewal. Life is a many-faced beauty which shimmers golden light in a hall of mirrors. Life is a many great things and yet nothing at all.