Thursday, January 12, 2012


dear |di(ə)r|
1 regarded with deep affection; cherished by someone : a dear friend | he is very dear to me
Nobody remembers a melancholy wave from the first waka to cross the Pacific in search of hope. Nobody remembers the first spear to reach into the very heart of a springbok. Who knows what prompted an entire generation and their sons to give up Sunday mornings in favour of suffering? Nobody's looking into this white room where you and I face each other. Nobody cares how we decorate the walls. The love or hate we create here is of no significance to anyone. Why don't we empty buckets of ocher and ultramarine on the bare walls and collapse in colour? Why don't we dance on the furniture and fall on the floor? This is ours now. Let's do with it as we please.

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