Does art make you open, sad, awestruck, filled with love, close to tears?
Does all the art in the world come close to this?
I wonder, silently, what it is that makes it hurt, (to watch this) like it used to hurt when you knew your mother was leaving on the first day of school.
What hurts is all the feelings you are not allowed to have. Or maybe you remember. Or maybe you know it was meant to be like this when you came here but it wasn’t. Everybody was afraid. Until you got that way too.