A man at the bus stop
Maybe it was just those words… Do i really know myself? Am I “good inside”? Am I? because, by Allah, I know I am not..
Now i have some certainty on how I bottled up my feelings… more like balloon rather than bottle.. as I kept these feelings inside this massive balloon.. it expands.. more and more. and I kept this balloon tightly inside a concrete wall.. I really did think nothing would happen.. no needle, no knife, no nuclear bomb, nothing.. would ever penetrate the walls. Thinking my ego will not break, emotions cannot handle me..
Boy was I wrong.
so simple.. so easy.. Allah sent a man to me.. he may not even be a Muslim.. he was trying to beg for some money in a form of fortune-telling.. but his words.. his words made through the walls and grazed the balloon..
So I lost it…
Fuck… in the middle of a bus stop.. I lost it.. 🤣🤣😂😂
maybe I’ll try not to forget what he said, maybe I can do better, I want to work hard… maybe I wont forget him (or maybe I will).. but heck.. now I know I am not that strong. Still… I’m keeping this feeling..
Plan dont tell.
Secret not a keeper.
Make prayers. Make du’a.