Rain drop keeps falling on my head. It falls everyday telling me to write something or whatever I can write about. Well, I have decided to see the world in a more old-fashioned way and touch on our common, humble, unique, and heroic sensitivities that define the sorrow and happiness of our existence.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Identity unknown..
If the world is to last 2 more million years or more, then who are we? If that is the case and if it is going to be true, naturally we are a very much an unknown being with an unknown identity of all sorts and kinds. Are we only good for the garbage in the world history of mankind? Are we a good listener? Are we a loving kind whose sorrow ought to be shared and distributed? We write with our pen and not with our mind. We say things with words of notorious kind. We split opportunity that can split the world into pieces. Who are we? For now identity unknown....
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