C'est ma vie

‘My Dearest, how can a person knock on a door that has been closed in his face over and over again?! .. How can he forget every time cruelty directed at him? To find himself among his papers writing letters he knows very well that whoever he’s sending them to will not bother to reply to them or even read them? How can we weave the threads of illusion with the return of the absent, so that the shadow becomes a person of flesh and blood, that we fall into his arms and forget it’s unreal? Why do we break our covenants every time that we will not surrender to our impossible dreams that have always killed us, a cruel and merciless death? Tell me, my dearest , as are my days in your absence.. When will this girl stop writing to you with the heart of a child so full of hope and enthusiasm? To turn her dreams up for grabs to the harsh reality To find herself surrounded only by the absence of the one she loves and the nothingness around it. Juddy Abbot.’

Orientalism, Edward Said.