byalizade

  The startling glances of those around me as I try to hide my sudden tears. What can make upset this cold-blooded person? This time the story is neither detective nor horror. I hated love stories and didn't write them. This time the story is a girl's love of a father and her motherland which is the story of a girl who couldn't visit the grave of her father, who died 32 years ago. Armenian aggressors occupied the girl's motherland 27 years ago. She grew up and has waited for years to return to her motherland. The girl travels there in her dreams, wants to breathe in the smell of the soil when she wakes up. Yeah, I know her. The woman who said "I wonder if we can find my father's grave when we get back there" is my mother. We’ll return to our homeland.  I t doesn't make sense to say anything now. This is not the end. Hopefully, I’ll make my first movie in Agdam.                                 ...

We bumble through every day. Hundreds of people we don't know pass by us. We have no idea what kind of they are. Can we see the souls of the people? We can see their appearance, not their inwardness. One who is a nullity for you is maybe the treasure for someone. There are some valid quotes, although they sound like a template. Human worth is also measured by what others think of themselves. Life is too short to waste any amount of time wondering what other people think about you. You can change people's minds, not their mode of thought. Allocate time for people who see your soul, not those who are blind to you.                                                     You are precious.

We can tell "I love you" maybe in ten languages, but not "I hate". Words are not enough to express love, but a glance hatred is enough. When you look at this drawing, firstly, you'll think of me, not this. I love art, not people. You can see that two people love each other. I see the harmonization of colors. 

Look at the girl dancing in the rain. Is she crying? You can't realize it. She conceals her tears in raindrops, expresses sorrow in her dancing. She seeks for you, needs you. Hold her hands and rescue her away from the darkness. Pride or love? It's a difficult question. Which makes you happier? In which will you get the best future? Which one will you not regret? Enough talk!😉

  .. .lifeless body in front of his eyes, he looks her execrably with bloody hands.No, not hate, he touches on her hair. What murder is this? He has been the killer of everyone except her. His eyes fill with tears, he now realizes what he is doing, can't bear to this, he sticks a knife in his own heart...and end...no... Every time the knife stuck to his heart, the pen touched the paper. Each time a tear fell on the sheet, the other set on fire. Every step of the way, his eyes searched for her. Whom? Who can someone who has lost himself seek? Hush! Nobody understands. The empty room filled with the smell of cigarettes...a glass of wine...and finished...the door knocked. He picks up a knife from the table and comes near the door.                                                                          ...

  …the author fell in love with the character he created…it was too tardy to realize… "Could black befit a woman so much?" he thought. He had never thought that this woman would blacken his life. For a long time, he had not written anything, had not left the house, had stopped keeping in touch communication with acquaintances, put the phone on silent, and had ordered food from outside. Someday the door was knocked. "Hi, excuse me, I just moved here, and I need your help." ...this grace...almond-eyed...her smile... the glory of her timbre… New neighbors became friends. One day, during a conversation, the woman said to him, "You should remain firm, there is always hope every morning and God." He held on to life with these incantations and was working on his new work every night.-"Sunshine".Someday he confessed his love for her, and she said that she loved him very much. He thought that he's the belike happiest man in the world. He was s...

She was younger me in front of me. I laughed when I saw her. I told her vainly that I would not fight with her. When she attacked me, I was solely fending myself. She punched me over unless I wanted to hit her. I could not stand, I must teach her a painful lesson. I started hitting her, but she was sturdier. Her whole body was injured, and mine was worse. She knew my vulnerable point very well. She hit harder when I hit her. We both fell down exhaustion. I was in writhe, and we both started crying. However, the fight was not over. Those around us provoked the struggle. I turned my head and stared at my rival. Impossible!!! This was me… This was my childhood… I was utterly stricken. This fight was a turning point in my life.                                              ...