” All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I am supposed to be doing? I have no idea.

My soul is from elsewhere, I am sure of that, and I intend to end up there. This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back around to that place, I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile, I am like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary. The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop taste one sip of an answer. I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.

Whoever brought me there, will have to take me home.”

Maulana Rumi ( 1207-1273)

photo: Cambodia