Pain is a gift when eradicated. You uproot it and spit it out. It’s beautiful. You can’t eradicate your suffering where it was provoked. You drag it around and watch it like your shadow. You cannot make movies with unripe sorrow, nor with another’s eyes or hands. We come undone long before leaving.
Read MoreEveryday we talk, we conversate, we communicate. Everyday we use words. Nevertheless, the symbolic language with which we express ourselves is a mere invention, and as such confined by our imagination. So, I wonder, if the words we use to communicate are bound to remain in limbo, why do we continue to talk obstinately?
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