By Vishal |
Date: 2004 Jun 03
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When I think about the times darkness has engulfed my life, I am always intrigued by my reaction, or rather the lack of it. I think about my tears, the ones I never cried when I needed to the most. In the days that threatened to suffocate me with their unbearable weight I waited for them to come in floods but none appeared. I glance inward and find more desert wasteland in my spirit than rainforest. I could feel the tears within me, undiscovered and untouched within their inland sea, these tears have been with me always.
I think that at birth men are alloted just as many tears as women are. But because we are forbidden to shed them we die long before women do, with our hearts exploding, or our blood pressure rising, or our livers eaten away by alcohol, because that lake of grief inside has no outlet.
We, men, die and wither because our faces are not watered enough.