Ivan (IV Vasilyevich) killed his own son you know. He killed him, why he killed him? I don't want to jump into rationalities or any other logistics. All I know is, he killed him because he couldn't control his anger. He couldn't gather the strength to stop himself from doing a hideous task. He just couldn't. Despite the fact that he was his son, he still murdered him. He still committed this sin, he executed his own son and no matter how much sad he gets, how much tears he waste on it, nothing would bring him back. Nothing would bring his son back to life. Only if he would have controlled himself from committing this act. All the claims, all the associations and all the love was either too weak or never existed in the first place. I feel like Ivan today, I feel like Ivan the terrible. I claim I have so much love for Allah Subhanahu wa Ta'ala and yet I don't stop committing sins. I say He's my best friend, but I don't speak about the sins with him. I
Evenings often have a certain exaggeration of emotions. Having a slight uplift or a notable stifle can be interpreted and labeled as a normality. But sometimes, normality isn't the outcome instead a deep, extensive and profound feeling of loss, defeat, regret or at times - relatability. These emotions are often correlated with the visualization of sky residing above us, though it's highly individual factor and vary from person to person. Be it clouds, either your life has been covered under great sorrow where no ray of joy could possibly reach you or you're so blessed under the velvet of love no shine of sorrow seems to touch you in anyway. But what to expect if one's self seems to be detached from within? A scattered persona, parallel to a scattered sky.