To whom it may concern

letterI’m twenty six years old, and in that short time frame I’ve learned that life is rarely fair. But it goes on. Whether we like it or not, life goes on.

Maybe we live in a dangerous world. Maybe this world has always been “unsafe” for those who weren’t sure what to do.

And I’d like to tell you there’s nothing to be afraid of, I’d like to tell you that failures build a man, that every fall is also a step forward. That what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…

But the truth is that, most times, what doesn’t kill you makes you wish it did.

Without a specific reason, I’ve always been most afraid that I would die alone. And everything I ever did in this life was because of this bizarre feeling. For example, when I was a kid I wanted to be able to talk to anyone about anything. So I began to read a lot of books, to watch a lot of TV shows and sports and stuff like that…

Of course, I didn’t get out of the house too much. Until high-school I didn’t really have friends. That’s why I started writing in the first place, I guess.

I was alone.

Then again, it wasn’t the best option. Writing because you’re alone is like taking painkillers to heal a wound. Yeah, it stops the pain, but only for a few moments.

Then came high-school, which is a different kind of war. It’s a four year period which forms much of your personality. I’ve made a lot of friends. And I’m being somewhat modest when I say a lot.

But I had to give up writing. I had to keep that side of me a secret.

And then everything changed.

Looking back, I honestly can’t realize how it all happened. The free-fall. In less than a year I had nothing. No friends, no money, no future.

Do you know how it feels when all you want is to simply live another day? When you dream and dream and dream, but you feel you haven’t got the strength to anything other but dream? When you spend year after year all alone…

When hope dies.

During those years I learned pretty much everything I know about life. By myself, without anyone to tell me. I learned that my tragedy is all mine. Pain can’t be compared or truly understood; there’s no such thing as genuine compassion. We sift everything through the filter of our own perception.

I had become a puny man in a world that was too big.

Like they say, I had reached the bottom of the shaft, and all I could do was ask, “Why? Why?”

And the only answer I ever found was, “Why not?”

At the same time I realized that if I don’t change something, no one was going to help me. Like I wrote previously, I’ve spent all my life fighting against the monster of solitude, and all of a sudden I had realized that we are utterly and inconsolably alone.

I was free to do whatever I wanted. And that’s what I did.

Every once in a while someone asks me for writing advice. “How do I write a good story? What makes good writing good?”

There is only one answer.

Find the thing you’re afraid of the most, rummage through your brain until it hurts, and write about it.

Because in all those years that’s what I did. I wrote about what I had and lost, about what I never had, and about all that I was certain I’d never have.

And I wrote until all my wounds healed. Now I’m working on inflicting myself new ones.

As much as art is a constructive process, in which we play God, at the same time is also a destructive process, in which we break pieces of our soul and throw them on paper.

I think you can get everything you want in life, that you can figure out who you want to be, what you want to do, and all that stuff. I believe you’re capable of wonderful things, as long as you have the courage to accept that it’s never going to be easy.

As long as you accept that there will also be pain involved. Maybe lots and lots of it. And you just have to keep fighting. You have to constantly reinvent yourself until you discover who you really are.

And, yes, at times you’ll be afraid. At times you’ll feel comfortable, and you’ll simply want to freeze a moment, hoping it will last forever.

But you’ve got to remind yourself, over and over again, that there are no destinations in life. Only roads.

No matter who you are or what you do, life’s full of moments of doubt, of petty frustrations, or sacrifices. Sometimes you’ve got to go down roads that appear in no maps whatsoever. And then your compass breaks.

And if you look behind you, all you can see is a road paved with regrets. And it seems that before you lies this road going nowhere.

Maybe sometimes it’s well to remember that “nowhere” is a lot closer to “anywhere” than we might think.


Hi guys,

If you want to help this crazy Romanian kid out to keep his projects alive, to expand, to grow, you can do so by pledging one dollar (yup, you read that right) here.

P.S. Of course, you can “purchase” more than one if you want to.

If you wish to help me directly, you can contribute any amount you see fit via PayPal to contact [at] cristianmihai [dot] net.

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10 comments on “To whom it may concern

  1. Your story is very inspiriing, I look forward to reading one of your books I have on Kindle

  2. 50djohnson says:

    I don’t know how old you are but this is very deep thinking. I hope on your journey you do find that their is hope available now…you don’t have to go down the lonesome road to the end of life and find there’s nothing for which there is worth living. Blessings. Debbie

  3. I, too, had a traumatic period of time in highschool– it was definitely a time of Jesus changing me from the inside out.. And now that I look at it, even through the pain (that still hurts to face), I see that this is true: “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

    I don’t know a whole lot about life. All I can say, is that with Jesus as my Savior, Guide, Lord, and Friend on this journey– knowing that even in death, He will be with me– I have all that I need. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1). ❤

    Thank you for your post 👌

  4. michael69101 says:

    Grade school was the worst for me, but middle school and high school, I was numb and kept to myself as an outcast and I was mad at Jesus during my teen years and writing help out a lot after my teen years, no matter if it’s sad, angry, dark, or just complaining. What ever helps to get it out.

  5. True George says:

    you only 26 imagine the vastness of new discoveries by the time you reach 36

  6. I love this.

    I can really relate to the part: ‘When you dream and dream and dream, but you feel you haven’t got the strength to anything other but dream?’. This is something I’m working on right now.

    Thank you for the follow.

  7. One thing that helps is to focus on helping other people. Takes the focus off you.

  8. Lidia Spoto says:

    Your story is inspiring! I wish you all the best ✨

  9. me:fabi says:

    Loved it. Inspiring. No matter how old you are, you are the only one that knows your story. You can be 40 and not have lived or figured it out that much about life. It seems like you have :).

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