i beg to differ. kasari huncha testo? hoina hoina. sabdaharu kadaa prayog gare pani mitho suninu euta bidambana ho, tara mitho sunidaima satya hudaina...khoi khoi...etikai office ma kaam napayera :(
i know. philosophy can be debilitating. as can truth.but at least in poetry, we are allowed to play with them.
i was reading Marquez ko "the memories of my melancholic whores" asti tira. and then i read this. do you think somehow our lives are interconnected through fiction?
i don't know. fiction is made up entirely of lives. even the most fictitious of fiction. timro ho ki, mero ho ki. kosko kosko.nahunjel lai my ambition is to be one. but the grass is always sexier on the other side ni, liberty more liberatinghoina ruh?
reminds me of a certain woman...you only need to let the world know you're a whore once. and the rest of it is buried behind that 'sin'