I forgot a language yesterday, when I could not place a letter.
A little bit of luck while writing
A little talent and a little knowledge
Sunken in a star of perceptionis what gives a light...
Like a torch on fire in the dark, dark night
And I cannt write in the language I forgot:
A paradox of English.
Maybe my language is not a language,
But a culture of mixed identity.
Yet why should I identify with that which I speak?
I am what I feel and not what I utter.
Yet my utterance is my feeling and my thought-
And my language (or languages)
Becomes my world.
I wrote this probably inspired by marsh languages, and partilly because I didn't remember a basic sanskrit letter: "ae"!!! This was just before our first CA! (not too sure of the date)