The night the pure sand grains gathered
Blessed is what I am to have strangers guide me to what's best for me. One can tell a lot more from a piece of paper than from a pointless conversation that would probably focus on the latest edition of Campus or a new concert down at the Culture Wheel.
For that I thank you.
I have been going through rough times lately; the roughest since… ever probably.
Our generation ain't about financial depression. We have the internet and we blog, we must be blessed then, huh.
الحمدلله على كل شيء
But then again… I think the plague of this era hits where it hurts the most. It hits the soul for those of us who've got one.
Any sheep can fall down, but it takes a man to get back on his feet.
Bring it on, I'll say.
I deserve better. I ain't a bad person. I must be worth something on somebody's price list.
This page means nothing to me now. It's served its purpose well. I will keep it out here as a souvenir; a reminder that one shouldn't really give up on things, a reminder never to be left off guard.
I will keep posting. I'll do it on a new page that marks a new beginning for me. I need it. I deserve it.
Something inside me died the past few days. This dead page should resemble the remains of that thing.
I don't want it anymore.
I'll keep it here.
I'll look at it and laugh at myself.
It helped me learn a valuable lesson.
The more you dream, the harder you fall… and the harder you fall, the more you learn.
I'll shatter this life painting into pieces of worthless glass…
And the glass morphed into a mirror that scared her off…
