Sanum

Speak your heart out.

[blablabblooom]

“Onerous life of world”

I can not stop laughing sometimes. The laugh of pain. 

What a bloody world we live in. Hahaha! You can not tell the truth. You can not, OK?

Otherwise, you’re simply a sick person. they a’int going to listen to you but rather tell you you’re wrong, you’re with low Iman (faith). You can not get angry because you’re fucking robot. Understand? 

They are the only people who are cool af, who can not face anger of others. Who will bully you by reminding that your too naive, you always talk about your religion and you have no right to get angry even if things are wrong. You can not loose hope, you can only breathe because you’re not normal human, you’re just your religion practitioner. 

What the hell is this? then they argue about it whenever you make them understand thing. Actually, they are the people who suffer with their emotions, they are too afraid the reality of death yet always behave as they don’t afraid. They are blindly following their fantasy but not reality. They are people who have to raise fingers on others, only thy are the genius of this world. Hahaha! But no matter what they do and say there’s always ending to every story. I hope they could see the reality, I hope they could understand the process of hope, how to get there, how to achieve hope.Because you only get it when you put all the efforts, every possible way to make things right to get best solutions to problems.

But sadly, all they do it is sit and keep saying God will help them. But they forget that God will question them why you didn’t use your brain, your facilities I given you? why? You were ungrateful who wasted their brain and knowledge by not taking right actions when it has been taken immediately. All you did was to keep running from reality.

Well, at the level of life where I don’t hate them anymore but feel pity for them. I have lost courage to make them understand anything because they have locked their minds and lost the keys somewhere . It’s hard to escape from this kind of surroundings. After all you realize that God is testing your patience level, try not to fail. But i fail badly after losing it after building for so long.

There are many points we can talk about our older generation but no one is ready to listen it. They will shut your mouth that you’re being ungrateful whatever we did for you.

Trust me, we are not ungrateful but we’re trying to make things easy for everyone.

This is the bitter reality of life we have to live with, you have two ways to face it; become numb or be ready to fight to survive.

05.04.2020.

[blablabblooom]

[langleavpoetry]

[fatmaninalittlesuit]

Put yours in the tags.

[noonchaifromkashmir]

Creation, power, miracle.

[blablabblooom]

Power, life, gratitude.

[islamic-art-and-quotes]

“No human is perfect; we all have our hidden sins. Hypocrisy is to delude yourself into denying your own sins and allow arrogance to grow within you.”

— Yasir Qadhi

[blablabblooom]

[blablabblooom]

"Aehsa'saat ki maut hojana kisi insaan ki maut sy kam nahi."

~Sanum.

[blablabblooom]

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

“Trauma shatters your most basic assumptions about yourself and your world - “Life is good,” “I’m safe,” “People are kind,” “I can trust others,” “The future is likely to be good” - and replaces them with feelings like “The world is dangerous,” “I can’t win,”“I can’t trust other people …””

— Mark Goulston

[quran-verses]

- -

[contemporaryartdaily]

AR: Astrid Klein at Deichtorhallen

[thealfaguy]

[blablabblooom]

#throwbackto2017 #onesidedlove #growth #moveon #learnfrompast #bewiser #randomwriting

[langleavpoetry]

[noonchaifromkashmir]

Kashmir.

I’ll Explain Some Things

By Pablo Neruda- Today, these words make sense. They give me goosebumps. They make my blood boil. They make my heart cry. Kashmir, you’ll rise again.

You’ll ask, Where are the lilacs?

And the philosophy dreamy with poppies?

And the rain which kept beating out

Your words, filling them

With water-specks and birds??

I’m going to tell you everything that happened to me.

I lived in a neighborhood

In Madrid with church bells

And clock towers and trees.

From there you could see

The dry face of Castille

Like a sea of leather

My house was called

“The house with the flowers” because around it

Geraniums exploded. It was

A beautiful house

With dogs and kids.

Raúl, do you remember?

Frederico, do you still remember

Under the ground?

Do you remember my house with the balconies

Where the June light soaked your mouth with

The taste of flowers?

Brother! Brother!

The market place of Arguelles, my neighborhood

With its statue like a pale inkwell among

The fish stalls.

It was all

Loud voices, salty commerce,

A deep rumble

Of feet and hands filled the streets,

Meters and liters,

The sharp essence of life,

Fish stacked up,

The texture of roofs in the cold sun in which

The weather-vane grows tired.

Fine, crazily carved ivory of potatoes

Lines of tomatoes to the sea.

Then one morning flames

Came out of the ground

Devouring human beings.

From then on fire,

Gunpowder from then on,

From then on blood.

Bandits with airplanes and Moorish troops

Bandits with gold rings and duchesses

Bandits with black monks giving their blessing

Came across the sky to kill children

And through the streets, the blood of children

Ran simply, like children’s blood does.

Jackals that a jackal would reject

Stones that a dry thistle would bite and spit out

Vipers that vipers would hate!

I have seen the blood

Of Spain rise up against you

To drown you in a single wave

Of pride and knives!

Generals

Traitors

Look at my dead home

Look at broken Spain –

But from each dead house

Burning metal shoots out

Instead of flowers.

From every shell-hole in Spain

Spain will rise.

From every dead child a rifle with

Eyes will rise.

From every crime bullets will be born

Which will one day find a place

In your hearts.

You ask “Why doesn’t your poetry

Speak to us of dreams and leaves

Of the great volcanoes of your native land?”

Come

See the blood along the streets

Come see

The blood along the streets

Come see the blood

Along the Streets.

[blablabblooom]

28.08.2019. I enjoy rain just listening to the voice of pouring rain. 🙌♡💯

#thisiswhoiaminside #manythingschangedthisyear #rain #voiceofraindrops #backgroundscore🎶 #heart #karachirain

[703302]

so obsessed with becoming a better woman. physically, mentally and emotionally.