A Letter to Kurtz from a Heart of Darkness
A Letter to Kurtz from a Heart of Darkness
I am writing this letter to you, to a shrouded unknowingness, a deep scar left upon my soul--that, which seems to have been an obscurity and the only reason for traveling through this maze of green walls. Before I ever realized it, I had become so engrossed and drawn to this enigma of the darkness. I am now arriving at the inner station. This has been a captivating and intriguing experience thus far, and to realize it is not yet over, utterly exhausts me. I have only eight miles to meet you, the gaping hole in my soul. The quietness of the green wall and motionlessness of the river is eerie, almost unsettling--the movement in the bushes became numb with an unnatural sleep. I am now sleeping this unnatural sleep as well; the air in my chest shortens and deepens, as if it were a foreboding omen lying ahead in the foggy darkness. Nearly two months I have been on this voyage, waiting, to meet you, a vague obscurity in my reality--I have seen more than I would like to see. This has turned into an atmosphere of death, death has followed life, it now awaits it, it peers at us, simply waiting, patiently. Like a snake waiting to strike, devour its prey, it waits for us. And like its prey, I have questioning life and death. Death; illness; both are misinterpreted approaches to death. You must wonder what I am speaking of; as do I, I will notify you the moment that I find the answer in this sea of doubt. I do not intend to mail this letter off because it is mostly for me. So, with this being said, I would like to describe my version of “Kurtz,” the Kurtz that I believe is the plug to this hole.
I am in the Jungles of Africa searching for you. I have traveled hundreds of miles to see you; I have survived attacks to see you; I have seen death, torture and slavery to see you; I have seen what, I hope, no other man should be allowed to see, simply to see You. You, you is a he whom I believe I...