The Search for Reason
 

 
The music of awakened Solitude, is like the dance of falling leaves; the sound of silence carried by the tinkling of bells a thousand miles away.
 
 
  Blogger Silenus Pathos ^dante
 
 
Thursday, May 02, 2002
 
My dad gave me a backhand to my thigh. And the following exchange took place in chinese.

I looked at him, said, "Pain?"
And I looked away.
He said, "If it's painful, stop shaking your legs."
I replied, "No, dad, I meant to ask if your hand is hurt from slapping my thigh."

I bolted.





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