Tragically, there are not enough words to describe everything we may think or feel. And, even when words do exist, fearing the effects of some of our potential verbal or non-verbal confessions, everyone learns to “speak” an inner dialect of censorship, a silent language whose vocabulary is too exquisite, too daring or too strong to share with the outside world: unrealistic hopes and dreams, indefinable emotions, feelings, relationships… inexplicable desires, sorrows, regrets...inappropriate affirmations...unconventional statements...All these and more have to live like hostages inside our limited selves since they are born until we die.
It's so difficult to live with them and even more difficult to draw lines all the time ... Still, if our mind cannot give us a full account of all the matters of our heart... I cannot figure out which is more in(de)finite: thinking or feeling?
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