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@h__r666: ماتنهزم هاشميه وسميتها وسميتها فرس👌#سوريين_في_السعودية🇸🇦🇸🇾 #اكسبلورexplore #خيل_وخياله🐎 #شيلات #الاشراف_احفاد_الرسول

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Wednesday 08 October 2025 21:21:05 GMT
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Few men are capable of staying still. To sit with a warm cup of coffee in hand and keep at bay the endless procession of intrusive thoughts that come demanding attention. The unpaid bill. The difficult meeting. The future. Yesterday's regret. Tomorrow's uncertainty. To simply drink the coffee while it is still hot seems, for many of us, almost impossible. I have tried. I have failed, terribly, each time. And so I have come to admire those type of men. My body sits, but my mind is already standing elsewhere. The coffee cools while I rehearse conversations that may never happen. I answer questions no one has asked. I carry tomorrow into today and wonder why the present feels so crowded. Even in silence, something within me continues running, as though peace were a form of negligence and every quiet moment must be filled with planning, remembering, repairing, or worrying. And so I have developed a deep admiration for men who know how to remain where their feet are. Men who can sit beside a child and not allow the affairs of adulthood to take the empty seat between them. Men who listen to the child’s long, wandering story without reaching for the phone, without rushing the ending, without letting the mortgage, the office, the business, and the burdens of the household enter the room. For those few minutes, the child does not have to compete with the whole world for his father’s face. Such presence is a kind of love. Men who receive an uncomfortable phone call, hear news heavy enough to alter the shape of the day, and yet, when the call ends, they do not spread the burden onto everyone around them. They place the phone down gently. They take a breath. They gather themselves before returning to the room. The trouble is real, but they refuse to make their wife, their children, or the innocent waiter at the café pay for what another person has placed upon their shoulders. I hope one day to become such a man. Not a man without burdens. But a man who knows that every burden has its place, and that not all of them deserve a seat at the table.
Few men are capable of staying still. To sit with a warm cup of coffee in hand and keep at bay the endless procession of intrusive thoughts that come demanding attention. The unpaid bill. The difficult meeting. The future. Yesterday's regret. Tomorrow's uncertainty. To simply drink the coffee while it is still hot seems, for many of us, almost impossible. I have tried. I have failed, terribly, each time. And so I have come to admire those type of men. My body sits, but my mind is already standing elsewhere. The coffee cools while I rehearse conversations that may never happen. I answer questions no one has asked. I carry tomorrow into today and wonder why the present feels so crowded. Even in silence, something within me continues running, as though peace were a form of negligence and every quiet moment must be filled with planning, remembering, repairing, or worrying. And so I have developed a deep admiration for men who know how to remain where their feet are. Men who can sit beside a child and not allow the affairs of adulthood to take the empty seat between them. Men who listen to the child’s long, wandering story without reaching for the phone, without rushing the ending, without letting the mortgage, the office, the business, and the burdens of the household enter the room. For those few minutes, the child does not have to compete with the whole world for his father’s face. Such presence is a kind of love. Men who receive an uncomfortable phone call, hear news heavy enough to alter the shape of the day, and yet, when the call ends, they do not spread the burden onto everyone around them. They place the phone down gently. They take a breath. They gather themselves before returning to the room. The trouble is real, but they refuse to make their wife, their children, or the innocent waiter at the café pay for what another person has placed upon their shoulders. I hope one day to become such a man. Not a man without burdens. But a man who knows that every burden has its place, and that not all of them deserve a seat at the table.

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