Unspeakable

Book of what cannot be said PDF Well, here is what happened. Whenever my worry overwhelmed me, on those nights, I took my phone and left a faint call for thousands of strangers that hinted at my loneliness: "We will talk." My call would rise to a white window, on a screen overlooking darkness, and no one would look out from it, like a broken well; its bottom is my refuge. I used to crouch there, hopeful, waiting, anticipating the fall of the drops; and I would watch the people around the mouth of the well. The drops – at the moment of their fall – would hit each other, and rain questions on me that I do not know the questioners. In that darkness, we were alike, equal in the depths of confusion. The strange thing is the companionship of the confused, absurd and reassuring. I answered – from the bottom of the well – more than a thousand questions. I answered questions born in silent labor, I read them repeatedly, and my voice was borrowed, and my questions turned into something else. Fluctuating questions whose result was a fragmented dialogue, difficult to discipline, like the rapid thoughts of a mind longing for calm… and refusing silence.