Difable Angels

I like writing, I like it so much. I like the tic-tac sounds came from my laptop pads anytime I toot the letter pads. I like writing as much as I like the rain and the color brown. I can sit for hours, keep tracking of something beautiful, rain for oftentimes, then write them down. Just like now, enjoying the self-time, thinking, seeing dark and thunder, hearing nature, and write them down.

Do you ever think why there are a lot of kids and women and men, teens and olds who are alive but not live? I mean like those who are ill, paralyzed, or disabled from the beginning of their life. What’s the purpose of their born? For their surrounding, of course they give them many lessons, to be grateful for our life, to be grateful for this hands and legs, for this eyes and good lungs and strong heart, and the liver, and so on. But for they their-selves? What is it? What’s Your plan, my Dear Lord? In my limitary logic, I think they are Angels You sent to world, for humanity, for people like me. I hope, really hope they are truly Angels. Please made them Angels, Lord, let them all be happy.