Skip to main content

Immigration stories of borders

My name is Amir and I am tired of dying. When does life begin? Can you tell me more? Because, here, we do not know anything. We are first lower pages of equally negligible books, strictly relegated to forgotten shelves.
There, where the unlabeled stories of the world live. Those that have no moral, otherwise I dare you to inform the protagonists that all that suffering has a kind of meaning.
They have only told me go ahead, you start, it is your turn.
So I went on stage, like everyone else.
And you know what? If I had known that all this would have happened, I would have remade the same steps.
I know that for many of you it is difficult to understand. If not, the gap between us would be the least of the problems.

Read more

Comments