What surprised me the most is how real she is. Life for her is a matter of ego and self-revelation. She's got the inextinguishable inner desire to give. She's not a myth; she's just a timeless human being.
She begins in absolute chaos and darkness, in a bog or swamp of ideas and emotions and experiences, to come up with her own philosophy. With endless burrowing a certitude develops which is greater than faith or belief. She becomes more and more indifferent to her fate as a delicate creature, and, more and more certain of her destiny as a human being.
She even says, "Sorry!", sometimes.
She reminds me of something I've read for Bukowski, a while ago:
“Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it.”
And she does a lot of uncalled, unasked for good things to people, she loves.
Again, yes, she exists. She's the reason some of you out there regained faith in humanity. The very reason she might pull you out of your cold, dark hole.
Her name is Sahar.
She begins in absolute chaos and darkness, in a bog or swamp of ideas and emotions and experiences, to come up with her own philosophy. With endless burrowing a certitude develops which is greater than faith or belief. She becomes more and more indifferent to her fate as a delicate creature, and, more and more certain of her destiny as a human being.
She even says, "Sorry!", sometimes.
She reminds me of something I've read for Bukowski, a while ago:
“Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it.”
And she does a lot of uncalled, unasked for good things to people, she loves.
Again, yes, she exists. She's the reason some of you out there regained faith in humanity. The very reason she might pull you out of your cold, dark hole.
Her name is Sahar.
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