به کجا چنین شتابان؟گون از نسیم پرسید- دل من گرفته زین جاهوس سفر نداریز غبار این بیابان؟- همه آرزویم اماچه کنم که بسته پایم.به کجا چنین شتابان؟- به هر آن کجا که باشدبه جز این سرا، سرایم- سفرت به خیر اما تو و دوستی، خدا راچو از این کویر وحشت به سلامتی گذشتیبه شکوفه‌ها، به بارانبرسان سلام ما را

The hard part is that I lost myself. In the midst of life happening all around me, I lost the ability to be okay, I lost the ability to trust. I lost the ability to love myself, and when that happens, you lose everything. And when the one person in the entire world who loves you unconditionally is gone, then you start wondering who will love you? And then when you start wondering, you get scared that you have to even ask that question. But since you have already asked yourself that, you can’t ignore it. Who will love you now? Who could possibly love everything about you, now that the only person in the world who could, is gone? Hell, you don’t even love yourself. Why would someone else? And then when you realize that, the relationship you’re in seems pointless. Because you start believing that they won’t ever be able to withstand your problems and craziness. And then that snowballs to even more insecurities and fear, and you feel trapped in this broken body that can’t ever be healed. And then you feel lost, torn, broken, unfixable, damaged, and like nothing in the entire world could ever possibly be okay again. Because you know from the past, that even when everything seems okay, another devastating blow comes around again and knocks you back down. So you feel even smaller, even weaker. By that point you’re at the bottom, you’re looking up in tears, ready to scream for help. But you’re not sure who’s going to be there, and if the person who does show up, is going to be the person you need, the person who’s going to pick you up, and help you heal. And then you realize again, that you lost yourself. That in the midst of life happening all around you, you lost ability to be okay.

An awfulness was deep inside me, and I couldn't fight it; forced into submission and taken hostage by it, I could only just lie there, let it wash over me, and let myself be consumed by it. If I cooperate, maybe it won't stay too long; maybe it'll let me go free. But if I fight it, it might stay longer just to spite me. So I decided to let The Feeling inhabit me as long as it desired, while I lay still, cautious not to incite me, secretly hoping it would leave me soon and bother someone else, but outwardly, pretending to be its gracious host. The most discouraging element of what I felt was my inability to understand it. Usually when I was filled with an unpleasant feeling, I could make it go away, or at least tame it, by watching a light-hearted film or reading a good book or listening to a feel good album. But this feeling was different. I knew non of those distractions could rid me of it. But I knew nothing else. I couldn't even describe it. Is this depression? Maybe once you ask someone to describe depression, he can't find the words. Maybe I'm part of the official club now. I imagined myself in a room full of people where someone in the crowd, also suffering from depression, immediately noticed me-as if he detected the scent of his own kind-walked over, and looked into my eyes. He knew that I had The Feeling inside me because he, too, da The Feeling inside him. He didn't ask me to talk about it, because he understood that our type of suffering was ineffable. He only nodded at me, and I nodded back; and then, during our moment of silence, we both shared a sad smile of recognition, knowing that we only had each other in a room filled with people who would never understand us, because they didn't have The Feeling inside them.

Blue jeans, white shirtWalked into the room you know you made my eyes burnIt was like, James Dean, for sureYou're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancerYou were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hopBut you fit me better than my favourite sweater, and I knowThat love is mean, and love hurtsBut I still remember that day we met in december, oh baby!I will love you 'til the end of timeI would wait a million yearsPromise you'll remember that you're mineBaby can you see through the tearsLove you moreThan those bitches beforeSay you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll rememberI will love you 'til the end of timeBig dreams, gangsterSaid you had to leave to start your life overI was like, “No please, stay here,We don't need no money we can make it all work,”But he headed out on sunday, said he'd come home mondayI stayed up waitin', anticipatin', and pacin'But he was chasing paper"Caught up in the game" ‒ that was the last I heardI will love you 'til the end of timeI would wait a million yearsPromise you'll remember that you're mineBaby can you see through the tearsLove you moreThan those bitches beforeSay you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll rememberI will love you 'til the end of timeYou went out every nightAnd baby that's alrightI told you that no matter what you did I'd be by your sideCause Imma ride or dieWhether you fail or flyWell shit at least you tried.But when you walked out that door, a piece of me diedI told you I wanted more-but that's not what I had in mindI just want it like beforeWe were dancing all nightThen they took you away-stole you out of my lifeYou just need to remember....I will love you 'til the end of timeI would wait a million yearsPromise you'll remember that you're mineBaby can you see through the tearsLove you moreThan those bitches beforeSay you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll rememberI will love you 'til the end of time

សារជាតិរបស់មនុស្សគឺលំបាកកែបំផុត។ សម្រាប់គួរអនាគត, បើអ្នករកឃើញថាសារជាតិរបស់គេ មិនត្រូវជាមួយអ្នក, ចូលអ្នកចាកចេញពីគេចុះ ទោះបីជាពេលនេះអ្នកស្រឡាញ់គេ ខ្លាំងប៉ុណ្ណាក៏ដោយ។ ព្រោះបើអ្នកនៅជាមួយគេ អ្នកនឹងរងទុក្ខ វេទនាជាអនេក។ ប្រៀបដូចជាទឹកនិងប្រេង ទោះបីជាអ្នកបន្ទន់ឥរិយាបទយ៉ាងណាក៏ដោយ ក៏មិនអាចនៅជាមួយគ្នា។ ទីោះបីជាអ្នកខំយកទឹកទៅលាយជាមួយសារជាតិផ្សេងៗ ដើម្បីបន្ស៊ីជាមួយប្រេង ក៏ធាតុទាំងពីរនេះមិនអាចចូលគ្នាបានដែរ។

When reading the history of the Jewish people, of their flight from slavery to death, of their exchange of tyrants, I must confess that my sympathies are all aroused in their behalf. They were cheated, deceived and abused. Their god was quick-tempered unreasonable, cruel, revengeful and dishonest. He was always promising but never performed. He wasted time in ceremony and childish detail, and in the exaggeration of what he had done. It is impossible for me to conceive of a character more utterly detestable than that of the Hebrew god. He had solemnly promised the Jews that he would take them from Egypt to a land flowing with milk and honey. He had led them to believe that in a little while their troubles would be over, and that they would soon in the land of Canaan, surrounded by their wives and little ones, forget the stripes and tears of Egypt. After promising the poor wanderers again and again that he would lead them in safety to the promised land of joy and plenty, this God, forgetting every promise, said to the wretches in his power:—'Your carcasses shall fall in this wilderness and your children shall wander until your carcasses be wasted.' This curse was the conclusion of the whole matter. Into this dust of death and night faded all the promises of God. Into this rottenness of wandering despair fell all the dreams of liberty and home. Millions of corpses were left to rot in the desert, and each one certified to the dishonesty of Jehovah. I cannot believe these things. They are so cruel and heartless, that my blood is chilled and my sense of justice shocked. A book that is equally abhorrent to my head and heart, cannot be accepted as a revelation from God.When we think of the poor Jews, destroyed, murdered, bitten by serpents, visited by plagues, decimated by famine, butchered by each, other, swallowed by the earth, frightened, cursed, starved, deceived, robbed and outraged, how thankful we should be that we are not the chosen people of God. No wonder that they longed for the slavery of Egypt, and remembered with sorrow the unhappy day when they exchanged masters. Compared with Jehovah, Pharaoh was a benefactor, and the tyranny of Egypt was freedom to those who suffered the liberty of God.While reading the Pentateuch, I am filled with indignation, pity and horror. Nothing can be sadder than the history of the starved and frightened wretches who wandered over the desolate crags and sands of wilderness and desert, the prey of famine, sword, and plague. Ignorant and superstitious to the last degree, governed by falsehood, plundered by hypocrisy, they were the sport of priests, and the food of fear. God was their greatest enemy, and death their only friend.It is impossible to conceive of a more thoroughly despicable, hateful, and arrogant being, than the Jewish god. He is without a redeeming feature. In the mythology of the world he has no parallel. He, only, is never touched by agony and tears. He delights only in blood and pain. Human affections are naught to him. He cares neither for love nor music, beauty nor joy. A false friend, an unjust judge, a braggart, hypocrite, and tyrant, sincere in hatred, jealous, vain, and revengeful, false in promise, honest in curse, suspicious, ignorant, and changeable, infamous and hideous:—such is the God of the Pentateuch.