It's me again..sharing my read.. ;p Now, you may find my read intriguing, or maybe too "cheem" for your understanding. But nonetheless, it's something that shakes me to my core and i wanna share..and i only wish...someone to understand me one day. It's actually very simple..In those solitary evenings . . . I opened up the kind of memory that feels like a wistful hankering for something lost or something that never was. I think most of us have it, this potentially destructive habit of mental record-keeping that builds, distorts, then breaks up and spreads into even the farthest flung territories of reason and consciousness.What we do is accumulate pain, collect it like cranberry glass. We display it, stack it into a pile. Then we stack it up into a mountain so we can climb up onto it, waiting for, demanding sympathy, salvation.‘Hey, do you see this? Do you see how big my pain is?’We look across at other people’s piles and measure them, shouting, ‘My pain is bigger than your pain.’”Marlena de Blasi “A thousand days in Venice”Now, it aint too bad..isn't it? All you had to do is to let it digest..i hope you feel what i feel.Quote: What am i to youSigning off,Ru
talked more trash @
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