When i was a lot younger, my mother taught me to swallow my tears - nobody cares that you’re sad, so you must not care either. And now, you seem to have learnt it by yourself when that is the last thing i want you to do. Do not be like the pristine pond my mother wanted me to be; do not just ripple, make waves. Do not just collect as a cloud, do not even fall lightly as rain; make yourself a hurricane! Be the kind of sunshine so strong people run out of ways to shield their faces. Be seen.

Knowing you, you would interpret the pearl necklace as simply a kind of jewellery that is more often than not passed on as a family heirloom. The stories behind leave deeper scars than you’d think they would. This necklace hold stories within each bead - it in its entirety is a metaphor. A metaphor for the fight between the lust for ignorance and the nirvana of clarity. You are -  wounded on the battlefield - caught in the middle of this fight more than anyone else i know.