When one has the soul of a writer, may one have the belief (or might it be a powerful intuition?) that if one writes something beautiful enough, that if one chooses words and silences wisely, then one could achieve what one deeply wishes for: that a person who has closed the gates of their mind or their heart, would now embrace the love beneath our searches, our fears, our stubborn attempts to build up bridges instead of walls. Is there anyone out there who has wondered about this? I guess I heard about this in one of Roberto Begnini's movies. So far so good, he has touched the lives of so many, by inviting them to dance in the rhythm of poetry and idealism. Some evenings of reading, writing and tea drinking such as this, I sit and wonder, how can I tune the words of my deepest longings, and find a way out of certain labyrinths?
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