Parts of me

I don't remember when I changed, or when I became less talkative and more silent. All I know is that I never woke up one day and decided to become this way; rather, it happened gradually; one disappointment after another, one goodbye after another, until my heart was filled enough to fall silent. I used to think sadness was a passing feeling, then I discovered it could become a way of life. I no longer cry as I used to, nor do I complain as I used to, but I hide everything, even from myself, as if I fear admitting what remains inside me. I miss that version of me that was easily amazed, easily joyful, and believed tomorrow held something more beautiful. But now, I no longer expect anything, not because I have lost hope, but because waiting so much has taught me to lower my expectations so I won't break again. And despite all that, there is still a small part inside me that resists. Not because it forgot what happened, but because it is tired of carrying it alone.

11:11

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احب النمنميات الهيج

"تَرَكْتُ ظُنُونَ النَّاسِ عَنِّي وَرَأْيَهُمْ فَقَدْ كَانَ يَكْفِينِي صَحِيحُ ظُنُونِي وَأَعْرِفُ مِنْ نَفْسِي الَّذِي يَجْهَلُونَهُ وَأَفْهَمُ ذَاتِي فِي جَمِيعِ شُؤُونِي وَلَا أَرْقُبُ التَّقْدِيرَ فِي عَيْنِ نَاقِصٍ إِذَا كَانَ قَدْرِي كَامِلًا فِي عُيُونِي"