Sahur and half a kilo of rice

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1 year ago
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Life is like a wheel without anyone knowing when it is above and when it is below. Crashed one day and knocked over many times. Saying pain is painful. And is said to no longer have a heart, it feels appropriate to say that.

Sahur and half a kilo of rice, become real writing which in the end is written to be understood and understood. Without being felt, you feel and you really have to feel it, as soon as the voice of destiny becomes the sound of reality. It can't be avoided, and even if it can, I don't know what happened. Maybe it could be better or maybe it could be worse, no one knows for sure. However, this is proof of the reality that is lived only in the form of a story between sahur and half a liter of rice that happened.

Sahur finally tasted by only being passed by a plate of rice without the salty taste of salt really can't be bought. Moreover, the side dishes and side dishes are a dream to be enjoyed. A plate of rice for each person, totaling four humane people, is obtained from half a liter of rice which has also been divided. There is a quarter for breaking the fast earlier and another quarter for sahur in the morning.

Still lucky good luck accompanies, which can still be passed with a plate of rice. What about those who can't taste and will be able to eat in a matter of days?

The world side month of Ramadan is a month that is said to be full of blessings and also full of meaning. But the other side of the heart seems to be screaming where the blessing is and what is the meaning of this difficulty. For a moment, I realized that this was a test and a mistake about the conditions that were being lived to be able to self-correct. But the strength of the temptation, the screams of the heart sometimes remain uncontrollable and the wails are getting worse.

Given the period in which the condition is said to still be meaningful. The days passed with certainty without ever being told like this. Whereas other humans still look and come and go, for themselves, not for ourselves. Full of attention and sweet strings of words that are reflected in themselves. And at the end of a time like this, they run away from forgeting again and again.

Either forget or don't care. Even if they are asked and meet without an appointment, there is only an apology, being busy with the world they live in. Especially if billed for promises or just hoping for self-care, there is only insults and insults.

God says you shouldn't hold personal grudges. Forgiving each other is a mirror of self-kindness. But unfortunately, the heart cannot return to the Divine cradle. Because the pain from the cry of the heart that is now happening has damaged the conscience.

This is the story of the morning when sahur and half a kilo of rice become a cradle as a vent from the heart. Painful and not treated at this time. Because there is only revenge that is imprinted. Greetings from a hurting heart, O human - evil human without a heart.

-===-

#fuckofhumanity

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Written by
1 year ago
Topics: Life, Blog, Writing, Experiences, Story, ...

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