A Diary I Write to The Inspirer, My Truest Father.

I write a message to a person as though it's a diary...

I keep on writing even though I know that I won't get any response because he was the only one who could be that way when no one else would even give it a try.

He listened, he heard, he spoke, and he consoled me, even after the many times that I had thought wrongly of him and his intentions.

He kept on going...

And so will I, I will go on and on, telling him how I feel, what goes on on my mind, I shall continue to share my thoughts and ideas, my plans and my growth... things that never seemed to tire him, not one bit.

But rather, the things that amused him.

He never quit me, not to stop listening, not to stop caring, not to stop giving me hope...

Therefore, I shall never quit him from my heart nor my mind.

Instead, I should be writing more and more to him as though it is a personal diary...

One that has a story just as how he used to tell me about his discreet past.

One that is well composed with emotions, thoughts, and movements, as how my hundreds of poems were jotted.

I shall, too, look at his pictures to get ideas on what I should write about next...

May it be his adorable deep-set brown eyes, glistening yet boyish silver hair, or the way he stares at the mountains as he climbs his feet all the way to the top...

Or the way his voice sounded in the short yet charming notes he sent me in the past.

Either way, he is my inspirer... from the way he lived, to the way he lives, to the paths he walked through that I could only wished to know more about.

As the Malay song goes, 'Engkau sumber ilham seniku'...

He is, and forever, will be one of, if not my only truest inspirer, my father in disguise.

Much love,

- the one whom you've inspired.