Tough , resilient , tangible and sound as Scottish drums. Deeply rooted in earth womb with an ugly look , rough and harsh. The sun burns its surface and it stands as a mount , while winds slap its skin , leaving it hard and full of fork-like pieces of wood. It seems as if it forgets its purpose and aim of being on earth and has become only a thing that looks like a living thing. But , still , unbeaten.
This seat reminds people of victims of abuse or let's say it properly: survivors of abuse. As people smuggling to seek a good life , reaching the unknown shores after a sea trip, half of which was on boat under dignity and the other half was under the boat to wash up and polish dignity.
Or villagers reaching the city for the first time, seeing and admiring even the road boards. After few time struggling in the city , they lose interest, lose appetite to living there , lose linkage with the village and loosen in the middle of the trip between city and village.
Or as immigrants when they travel to a new country , start a family, business and life. However, they burry their identity under where they put their feet and become free of identity as if it were a virus or infectious disease . Eventually , they lose ability even to identify who they are and the pain and guilt that they feel become their identity.
Or as a child , holding bunch of fainting roses , begging people to buy in the street with bare feet and nearly bare body as well. No one notices his bare stomach that did not eat for days or his shivering words when he speaks. All what people know about him is to push him away , ride cars with speed so that dirty water flashes on his face due to wheels' rapid movement. Or if they are polite enough , they will avoid seeing him as if he is a big annoying fly.
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