Nojoto: Largest Storytelling Platform

You grew in me and I found myself in within the pa

You grew in me and I found myself in within the palms, that reaches out to you. 


(Read Caption) 

I saw the Germans wives, crying alone on the edge of streets and Jews daughters breaking mirrors and glancing at the broken pieces, as if renouncing the badge of humility and finding the reason, Why the world remembered holocaust yet and forgot, why Sartre was out against the Nobel prize but still he accepted it, as a writer? 
Only to find out, in Iraq, the books in the book market remain in the street at night because the Iraqis say, 'the reader doesn't steal and the thief doesn't read'.
Simultaneously, I was watching, Life is beautiful, alone in the cinema theatre in 1997, and I peeped into World War II, when Hitler came back from Berlin and children with happy faces, rushed to train of subdued oppression, from which he was waving and throwing out opiates from his mouth, which felt same like, last night. Where something broke in me like the philosophies of nihilism, that life is meaningless and my atoms of life scattered, eavesdropping, Neitzsche talking to Dr. Breuer, 'it will be the only truth if you tell your patient, that he will die soon'. And Dr. Breuer, kept reading him in secrecy, trying to solve the reasons, What made this Man so open to him? 
And I questioned, What made me fall in love with you? Reminiscing about how you came, when I was living in the cult. My bones were hollowed by the ashes and books travelled through my nerves, which told me, How love weakens one, when one needs it the most and makes one insomniac.
I remember, how every night, I became more sleepless, and the reason sat beside me. I sang  melancholy, while musicians played piano of hope at the back of my eyes. Intermittently, reminding me of tragedies and the grey in between black and white, where I was all blue, desiring of lilacs. 
And I found myself in the middle of Iraq, where my conscience took me to the thoroughfare of books, and I end up guarding you in every word, like the rope around my neck, which will save me from burglary, reminding me at every breath, how you took them and made me breathless.
You grew in me and I found myself in within the palms, that reaches out to you. 


(Read Caption) 

I saw the Germans wives, crying alone on the edge of streets and Jews daughters breaking mirrors and glancing at the broken pieces, as if renouncing the badge of humility and finding the reason, Why the world remembered holocaust yet and forgot, why Sartre was out against the Nobel prize but still he accepted it, as a writer? 
Only to find out, in Iraq, the books in the book market remain in the street at night because the Iraqis say, 'the reader doesn't steal and the thief doesn't read'.
Simultaneously, I was watching, Life is beautiful, alone in the cinema theatre in 1997, and I peeped into World War II, when Hitler came back from Berlin and children with happy faces, rushed to train of subdued oppression, from which he was waving and throwing out opiates from his mouth, which felt same like, last night. Where something broke in me like the philosophies of nihilism, that life is meaningless and my atoms of life scattered, eavesdropping, Neitzsche talking to Dr. Breuer, 'it will be the only truth if you tell your patient, that he will die soon'. And Dr. Breuer, kept reading him in secrecy, trying to solve the reasons, What made this Man so open to him? 
And I questioned, What made me fall in love with you? Reminiscing about how you came, when I was living in the cult. My bones were hollowed by the ashes and books travelled through my nerves, which told me, How love weakens one, when one needs it the most and makes one insomniac.
I remember, how every night, I became more sleepless, and the reason sat beside me. I sang  melancholy, while musicians played piano of hope at the back of my eyes. Intermittently, reminding me of tragedies and the grey in between black and white, where I was all blue, desiring of lilacs. 
And I found myself in the middle of Iraq, where my conscience took me to the thoroughfare of books, and I end up guarding you in every word, like the rope around my neck, which will save me from burglary, reminding me at every breath, how you took them and made me breathless.
meeraali9245

Meera Ali

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