Rain drop keeps falling on my head. It falls everyday telling me to write something or whatever I can write about. Well, I have decided to see the world in a more old-fashioned way and touch on our common, humble, unique, and heroic sensitivities that define the sorrow and happiness of our existence.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
that real..?
Why all stories that I heard seem to represent my present, past, and future? I know it they won't last. But they seem to act and react on the spur of their moment, short moment. Wallahualam. Allahuakbar.
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