If somebody ask, did you have a good time? The answer would be,”Yes, I definetely did” Happiness is simple, and so is beauty. They both lies in simplest things. Like, having unattempted chatter with you all the time. Or, sarapan bareng walaupun menu yg dimaem beda. Visiting a serene graveyard in the noon, which soothes our mind and soul. Walking inside a traditional market, which...
The worst thing one can do is not to try, to be aware of what one wants and not...– Jim Rohn (via roscoe-)
islamenta: Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) said, “That which differentiates us from the disbelievers and hypocrites is our performance of Salat. He who abandons it, becomes a disbeliever.” [At-Tirmidhi].
March 8, 2012
writeletterstoyou: Dear You, Let’s, you and I, for just one moment, be instantaneous. You know how sometimes a storm picks up, the wind rises, and our eyes are struggling to open, but we are laughing, we are smiling, because we are happy to be in this, do you know that moment? Let’s jut pick us up and go, let’s run, let’s, for a moment, slip into nothing. Forget about tomorrow, forget about...
adustmitespeaks: I could paint you mornings of gold dusts and nights of glistening sands but you’ve found your other end of the string so i’ll give you matchsticks instead to keep you warm when the breeze brings life’s gelid hands.
Poetically Profound: Quarantined →
poeticallyprofound: Shooting sprees and eulogies You don’t know what your impurities do to me Few and far between obscurity I’m still searching for security But this prevailing paranoia Has got me stuck in a coma Taking away everything I once knew to be Your stench is an aroma Drawn to your touch Dreaming…
poeticallyundead: Dearest ghost why dost thou whisper through the starlit breeze weakening keepsake hearts trembling to mine knees Darling ghost why dost thou rumble in rolling waves of sorrow tarnishing lock box souls rusting the dawn of the morrow Precious ghost why dost though haunt me so sewn through the tears of mine being for every ache thou art bringing memories of jubilee fleeting ...