conteur
He was a boy with so many things that bothered him. Once, his father had an affair with one woman and he found out, but he never told his mother about it for fear that they would break up. He kept quiet a lot of times, but because of that he was very alone. He did things on his own and made no friends at all.
The world didn't begin with people. It began with trees and flowers and love and animals and peace and dry earth and fallen leaves and everything beautiful. The cicadas were singing, the trees were dancing. When people came into the picture, everything fell out of place.
People don’t really listen. They hear, but they plug up their ears to all sorts of sounds. They don’t hear the whispers of smiles and how the leaves giggle when the rain touches their beautiful faces with its soft tears. They don't hear the quiet sighs of the earth when it's stepped on, or the melody of the moon when it's sang to.