Cry usually comes with tears, or suffering, or sorrow, or dissatisfaction, and then cry has some companion to keep it away from solitude and tragedy...I simply think about why I cry, and why I have to cry. Simply because it cures some pain from my heart perhaps it would be. It's an expression to me about myself and my perceieved world, surely. I feel like connecting myself to my deeper mind when tears come out, and it is like an electric connection. It is a violent demonstration to the level of impotence. Tears go downward only, and it is like a little stream of straying droplets flowing down to the pool of sensational reservoir. A collector's touch. Crossing the extensive farm field, there are birds flying high, and along the wind, it takes away the weep. For the first time, I have a recognition of the angel tears. It is symbolic, and it goes through the boundary of humanity and hypocrisy. This is a very relieved moment of bitterly sweet. Bombs are in the mood of blossoming, and hallelujah - humanity vocabulary is rather limited.
