Dear Morrissey,
Throughout my life I have always had the feeling that I was alone, in a world that did not want me and did not understand me and with a perennial desire to shout who I was, how I felt. I thought that I would never be able to do it because nobody would ever listen. Until I found you.
From that moment I realized that I was not really alone, that there was a person who feels, thinks, like me and who gave me a voice. There was a time in my life (and I don’t know if it still persists today) where I thought it would be better if I died, because it would be better for everyone. I felt understood by you and now, even if I can’t say I feel happy, because “every day is like Sunday”, I continue to resist, because you give me the strength to do it.
The constant attacks you receive and have always received are just the umpteenth proof that ignorance and bigotry are diseases that hurt others and not the sick.
As you give strength to us, I would like you to know that we are here, to be on your side, of your music and poetry, which in the lives of our detractors are completely non-existent.
You are our light that never goes out. Forget what others say, you are okay (by me). I hope one day I can hug you and give you at least some of the warmth (a warmth and irony few people understand) that you convey with your music. (If you come to Italy, just let me know, so I’ll come and thank you in person!)
Forever thankful,
Oscar Wilde – whoops, I meant Daria
Letters to Morrissey 