Dear World,
And by that, this time, I mean the world of ghosts. The world of memory and the limits of memory. Of people and things and feelings departed. Of God and Santa Claus and stories. Of hope and meaning and the way things used to be even if they never really were. And of the final fading into absolute darkness when it passes from all living memory.
You're my home, if I have one. The place I come to sleep. The foggy grove I stroll through when my time belongs to me. I just want you to know how much you mean.
Love,
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