Sometimes it seems to us that everything has already been said, and we live a life already lived by someone and only rearrange from place to place of action, characters, notes and even words. But sometimes the meaning of our being consists in a play on words.
Not every meaning finds instant echoes in the storehouse of the soul, but everyone is given the opportunity to touch the string. The only question is who is tearing and who is trying to barely touch ?! Everything has its time and result ...