Life seems increasingly unfathomable to me of late, increasingly tumultuous. You cannot make sense of anything in the absence of silence. Yet, silence seems more and more like the luxury I can never afford again. My grip on reality is bound to become increasingly uncertain, I know. But then, has it ever been anything but uncertain? Through silence and tumult, it seems, in time, life is simply bound to lose all meaning, all significance. That is why I will be able to let go of it, one day. Will it be near?
The Ammar Abdulhamid Archive 