It is difficult to say if words do have a power, but they surely are the shadow of a soul that the ink throw on the paper. When words are real, which means when they come directly from the heart, they carry in them a deep and long story: is the “I” scratched on the paper just a simple straight line or somehow is capable to represent the shadow of human existence on paper? And why there is a word for life and a word for existence? Because one cannot contain the other?
Why is the Statue of Liberty in Kafka’s Amerika holding an upraised sword instead of the torch we know? Is there a meaning we cannot see? Maybe that even freedom is just another perception of human slavery? Or that there is no freedom without fight for it?
(Dr. Divago)
Why is the Statue of Liberty in Kafka’s Amerika holding an upraised sword instead of the torch we know? Is there a meaning we cannot see? Maybe that even freedom is just another perception of human slavery? Or that there is no freedom without fight for it?
(Dr. Divago)
