Nic, I always like your writing. Can you write something, a poetry probably, for someone that you think of right now? ——— I look out into an endless city of strangers. I hear nothing but echoing white noise and I feel numb. Every day is just as empty as the last. Begone the stars, as they fade from the light pollution. Becoming insignificant. Are they still there? Does it even matter when we can’t see them anymore? I look up into the desolate sky and I internally scream out. The only time I allow myself to stop. Of course, the Moon never answers. I feel the autumn dusk and sometimes I wonder if the breeze reaches you. I wonder if you hear me over the white noise. I wonder if you feel cold. I wonder if you close your eyes the way I do when in a sea of strangers. Are you still there? Does it even matter when you don’t love me, Dad?