i have loved words. their complexity. their vain reflection on the paper. their strokes on mcdonnald’s tissue paper as i sat by the corner with a black pen. the way they are tattooed on my thoughts. inked out of precise tune of delicate compilation of strings of grammatical compounds. their manipulative ways of tricking the ones who do not listen. words are by far the most genius and vilest invention. even so, i have loved words since the beginning. their binding ways of reaching out to their other halves, asking, begging to be complete. to be a sentence. their caring ways of understanding attitude. their […]
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