History, even in its own imagination, never conceived that things would continue for so long as to return to repetition and re-reading, and we, looking back at the path already trodden in our strained contemporary relationships, are adrift between truth and this distorted spectacle. Fictitious smiles are merely a sign of the eternal suffering that humanity relentlessly hammers onto the wall of its existence. This historical silence is our narrative of lies and absurdity; a place where doubt is the deepest form of bond between us.
Shahgol Safarzadeh
