Why do we live in pain? How can we live without pain? Is it possible? What is pain? Pain can be physical, but suffering is internal. Can we live with pain, but without suffering? Perhaps... Where does pain and suffering lie? Is it in memory? 

I undressed my memory
and found out
I was not who
they thought I was.

My name was not who I remember,
but who I love.

How could that be possible!

It had always been,
but I had been blind
with so much suffering.

Suffering contaminates in such a way,
we stop thinking,
and start acting in fury.

How is that possible?

My dear memory told me so,
and I listen to her as if her words
were made of diamond skies.

My dear memory forgot to tell me,
who I had been before,
as a tiny baby inside mother's womb.

Dear memory, who am I?
I don't want to die
with all that suffering
inside my heart.

Tell me!

Dear memory, who was I
before hating others?

Don't let me alone,
if I rely on your words
to be free, please,
take me with you
when I close my eyes.

Memory, dear memory,
am I asleep?

Is that the reason I can't see?
My eyes are closed,
and had I thought
they were open?

If I am asleep, dear memory,
tell me, remember me,
how can I wake up to love?

How can I forgive those
who have forgiven me?
How can I love those
who have hatred against me?

Dear memory, how can I love you if
you use your knowledge to hurt me
as I remember suffering,
as if I were suffering?

Memory, dear memory, I want to be free.
Where does freedom lie?

Suddenly, memory spoke,
for the first time,
I listened carefully,
and all she told me was:
There is nothing to remember.

How could dear memory be so mistaken?
Dear memory, why do you let me cry in silence?

Memory, dear memory,
didn't answer back.

It was then, in silence,
where I understood:
I didn't need memory to be alive,
because universality
is not about remembering
concepts, but the actuality
of giving, sharing and loving
at each instant of life.