Meaning is not clear cut...it is vague...just an outline until we understand the cultural underpinnings. How does one in this culture arrive at this thought...why do they think about it this way? Can some cultures be more left brain and other more right brain? What does love have to do with it? Passion is not easy to understand in America let alone China, Spain, France or Italy. It has seemed to me that passion in either America or China was usually more political but then maybe love is political in Spain, France and Italy. In the last couple of weeks I have had an experience of a lifetime reading some of the best expressions of life, love and the pursuit of happiness from deep inside of people. These readings have awakened in me an awareness to the nuances to a cultural legacy. What those in my culture mostly or decedents of diaspora. They came here and established over the hundreds of years a discrete subculture to the mainstream American we lived in public. Yes we all spoke English as a primary language and we ate our pizza and burgers in public but within the confines of our houses...we behaved as our parents or grandparents had in their town in northern Spain or Argentina. We ate the food, drank the beverages and celebrated feasts in traditional manners. I don't really think my friends gave much thought to what kind of life I may be living at home. They just assumed it was like theirs. Why did we hang on to those cultural habits? It was a facade a masquerade ball that we played a part in. But still...now it gives me the ability to understand the feeling behind words that a subdivided me must allow to be felt from deep inside my soul. Not long ago I was burnt out...crisp. What my eyes had taken in traveled to my heart and soul and hardened. My heart had the 1000 yard stare...it was void of feeling...flaccid. I had to find an oasis where I could pitch my tent and stay until my life pulse began to beat once more. Words are once again flowing. Flowing in their own way based more on my experiences than anything else. My own nuances are manifest in my writing. Now you can ask why does he say it that way or why doesn't he understand that doesn't fly in my culture. Don't try to understand me just listen to me and let your heart tell you how you are supposed to feel. Words are emotions so let them creep through your ears to what ever part of your body is affected and enjoy. When my skin became accustomed to you caress"do you read the word"sigh" or do you feel it touch you as it is whispered into your ear..can you taste the salt of a tear that graces your lips? Doesn't your imagination work any more? Can't you find yourself wiping your brow when a mental image of someone you share intamacy visits you in the middle of the day? Once upon a time people took time to read poetry...they integrated it into their vocal repertoire. It was our way of bringing emotion into everyday life. Why did we stop doing that?