Prague 1933 and 1973
If there were a way to abandon words completely, I would be tempted. Perhaps I’ve had a life already, or one still to come, as a mute monk.
But it is not possible for me at the moment. Instead maybe I could abandon serious words for the majority of time and interactions?
After all, if I must mask, why not fit the mask better to my needs and moods? A closer representation of what lies behind.
