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Everything I've ever done has come from a place of fear and hurt, kindness and care and compassion.
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But god, what's wrong with me, after all? What am I missing? Why this emptiness, this nostalgia? What is this anxiety, as if I only loved something I didn't know?
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But god, what's wrong with me, after all? What am I missing? Why this emptiness, this nostalgia? What is this anxiety, as if I only loved something I didn't know?
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النَفسُ بِالشَيءِ المُمَنَّعِ مولَعَةُ
وَالحادِثاتُ أُصولُها مُتَففَرِّعَة
وَالنَفسُ لِلشَيءِ البَعيدِ مُريدَةٌ
وَلِكُلِّ ما قَرُبَّت إِلَيهِ مُضَيِّعَة
كُلٌّ يُحاوِلُ حيلَةً يَرجو بِها
دَفَعَ المَضَرَّةَ وَاِجتِلابَ المَنفَعَة.
