- in the name of Allah -
Citgo
why are some summer evenings more memorable than others, seeming at moments a time we treasure in history even though one among them was just a trifle's victory. goals and ambitions, sterns of ships bogged down in revision, life's outlying outlines appear to be the fine print that needs a second hand to make it legible to the oft-invisibilified, illiterately unsuspecting man. back to the point of initial, what was it about that chance encounter that kept a beaming face and quirky smile etched in stone-age memories whilst the rest of life is subject to yet another factory recall. paths once deemed convergent only diverged to a point thought definitively defined, leave it to fate and destiny to erase my paper-mache designs from expected and utopian to bewildered endlessly recurring cycles of justice repaid for what was given in kind. i miss the bliss of innocence, how mere ideas could sustain me through times of ridiculous ocurrences. still so, i've boiled it down to doing good to family, keeping alive those threads so tenuously taken for granted in any life thought independently lead. soon though, Allah-willing i have yet other bonds of faith and friendship scattered that need resuscitation, making the social social once again and harmony of co-existence another key intermittently accepted for all the many laughs and cries. i know that i need, what exactly remains a bit fuzzy, but what wonders even your card-board cutout could do to a garden teeming with potential, needing but the last few drops of meaning that this life cannot strip away, the last few drops of completion that reach inside souls to silence demons and awaken faith in the shade of reason.
12.27.2006
12.15.2006
- in the name of Allah -
stay awake or go to sleep, either way the boogeyman slowly closer creeps. fears and fancies cant stay buried under rugs any longer so they run amok in the world i call home but feel is a prison where company only means being alone. people shake their heads and stamp their feet, amazed that one such as me should prod along in the subterranean living barely as if life was an aquarium for someone else to live out their lives. being sick has me on ropes, coughing and wheezing, an ancient bloke in the final moments wondering when the curtains close and the stage act is at last over. i reach around curves and bends, seeking a means or an end, purpose or truth, something to live by in a world reduced by the capitalist to a scramble for money, but lost in the mad rush is the thought of happiness in the rough of predetermined diamond mines. my quarry can't keep me away from that envyless existence, to chase the haggard with a mop and keep the cafe clean for more important visitors. people i long for are rarely the people i'm able to see, its all confounded to dust whence it came in an era bygone so simply. compartmentalize, trivialize, shrivel, hold strings for, watch them dance till they fall over dead not with a snivel or smile, frown or smear, but tears of sadness lost in the midst of the audience's applause, another invisible man remains tautly invisible to placate and amuse the logistically constant herder who appears all but immovable. need to catch some sleep before it catches me, a short death opening wide its arms in the dead of night, an embrace of warmthful illusion, beckoning to mindlessness, impervious to care but penetrable by reason, it withers slowly as the season is winter and the cold white consumes the lost, who bickered whilst retreating.
stay awake or go to sleep, either way the boogeyman slowly closer creeps. fears and fancies cant stay buried under rugs any longer so they run amok in the world i call home but feel is a prison where company only means being alone. people shake their heads and stamp their feet, amazed that one such as me should prod along in the subterranean living barely as if life was an aquarium for someone else to live out their lives. being sick has me on ropes, coughing and wheezing, an ancient bloke in the final moments wondering when the curtains close and the stage act is at last over. i reach around curves and bends, seeking a means or an end, purpose or truth, something to live by in a world reduced by the capitalist to a scramble for money, but lost in the mad rush is the thought of happiness in the rough of predetermined diamond mines. my quarry can't keep me away from that envyless existence, to chase the haggard with a mop and keep the cafe clean for more important visitors. people i long for are rarely the people i'm able to see, its all confounded to dust whence it came in an era bygone so simply. compartmentalize, trivialize, shrivel, hold strings for, watch them dance till they fall over dead not with a snivel or smile, frown or smear, but tears of sadness lost in the midst of the audience's applause, another invisible man remains tautly invisible to placate and amuse the logistically constant herder who appears all but immovable. need to catch some sleep before it catches me, a short death opening wide its arms in the dead of night, an embrace of warmthful illusion, beckoning to mindlessness, impervious to care but penetrable by reason, it withers slowly as the season is winter and the cold white consumes the lost, who bickered whilst retreating.
12.04.2006
- in the name of Allah -
the past few weeks have been fairly telling, as I learn just who are those I thought I once knew so easily pigeonholed and ready to order, now a suv overturned on a overcrowded highway. life is a journey and our only choice is to take or face death. there is no in between when it comes to living. as a bartender on tv said: "i see two kinds of people in life: the living and the dying".
no railroads or trolleys, the world runs on drunken donuts of sugared out coffee. the modern era is proclaimed a new age, a place of better chances and opportunities, but look past the borders and u see quite a few refugees flocking and stammering, in half-stupidity thinking the place they long for is better than the one they come from. its the bliss of ignorance that attracted and attracts all those immigrants, they dont know much of custom but as their identity slips away it all becomes just another necessary continuum of life. my own struggles and by-lines dont find front page in the public's eye but its just a microcosm of how life has become so unpredictable, imagine the day when the titans beat the colts on a field goal to win at home. side tracks are plenty and finding focus rare, a gem in the clouds of mysterious fate swirling about in wait to give us the recompense for deeds we thought once long dead. i marvel at the notions some once had, being called, formerly, a holy man, a pillar of belief, of how these things crumble as ideas in one fell heap. who would i be from a past like that, falling in the world of the fallen where all you see are begging hands pounding on air-tight bank vaults. having or not, one or the other, a state of status quo unimaginably prevalent though ambivalence is present as peaceful prosperity sets precedents of utopian ideas being possibly evident. now where was the direction with which i point these words, that lost me a mile ago down the road of revelation, stopped by a herd of grazing sheep, the simplicity of calm never ceases to bring amazement...
the past few weeks have been fairly telling, as I learn just who are those I thought I once knew so easily pigeonholed and ready to order, now a suv overturned on a overcrowded highway. life is a journey and our only choice is to take or face death. there is no in between when it comes to living. as a bartender on tv said: "i see two kinds of people in life: the living and the dying".
no railroads or trolleys, the world runs on drunken donuts of sugared out coffee. the modern era is proclaimed a new age, a place of better chances and opportunities, but look past the borders and u see quite a few refugees flocking and stammering, in half-stupidity thinking the place they long for is better than the one they come from. its the bliss of ignorance that attracted and attracts all those immigrants, they dont know much of custom but as their identity slips away it all becomes just another necessary continuum of life. my own struggles and by-lines dont find front page in the public's eye but its just a microcosm of how life has become so unpredictable, imagine the day when the titans beat the colts on a field goal to win at home. side tracks are plenty and finding focus rare, a gem in the clouds of mysterious fate swirling about in wait to give us the recompense for deeds we thought once long dead. i marvel at the notions some once had, being called, formerly, a holy man, a pillar of belief, of how these things crumble as ideas in one fell heap. who would i be from a past like that, falling in the world of the fallen where all you see are begging hands pounding on air-tight bank vaults. having or not, one or the other, a state of status quo unimaginably prevalent though ambivalence is present as peaceful prosperity sets precedents of utopian ideas being possibly evident. now where was the direction with which i point these words, that lost me a mile ago down the road of revelation, stopped by a herd of grazing sheep, the simplicity of calm never ceases to bring amazement...
11.13.2006
- in the name of Allah -
After reading an article about foreign nations arming Somali factions, I began to wonder a point that many others have brought up before: why, for all the other, various labels and ethnicities possible, does the American media refer to the warring factions as "Islamists" or "Islamic militants"? Why should they not be "African militants" or "Somaliists"? The question's answer lies in the adjective 'Islamic' and what it denotes. Thinking it over a few minutes, I realized the world knows that Islam is different from any other religion, more important to global affairs than any other religion, and perhaps most threatening to foreign interests overseas. Why is this unique? Because no other religion comes close to as much attention as Islam receives, albeit most of it negatively portrayed. It occurs to me that the key to changing the world, then, is Islam. It is change that people fear first and foremost, even though almost all will acknowledge that that is exactly what the world needs. The question arises how will people come to accept the change that is so needed, change to quell the poverty, strife, hunger, war, struggle, all of which run rampant in all the parts of the world we don't see. The western governments believe that to win this battle requires military force, intelligence gathering, and pre-emptive strikes. The problem is that it is not terrorism they are fighting, it is not evil they are fighting, but rather change. The thing about change is that it will always come, whether we like it or not. People want to remain in their comfortable positions of power, wealth, influence. They resist any 'threat' to those thrones, but as every nation of men in the past has found out, it is only a matter of time until truth surfaces amidst the cries of protest.
(http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/africa/11/13/somalia.reut/index.html)
After reading an article about foreign nations arming Somali factions, I began to wonder a point that many others have brought up before: why, for all the other, various labels and ethnicities possible, does the American media refer to the warring factions as "Islamists" or "Islamic militants"? Why should they not be "African militants" or "Somaliists"? The question's answer lies in the adjective 'Islamic' and what it denotes. Thinking it over a few minutes, I realized the world knows that Islam is different from any other religion, more important to global affairs than any other religion, and perhaps most threatening to foreign interests overseas. Why is this unique? Because no other religion comes close to as much attention as Islam receives, albeit most of it negatively portrayed. It occurs to me that the key to changing the world, then, is Islam. It is change that people fear first and foremost, even though almost all will acknowledge that that is exactly what the world needs. The question arises how will people come to accept the change that is so needed, change to quell the poverty, strife, hunger, war, struggle, all of which run rampant in all the parts of the world we don't see. The western governments believe that to win this battle requires military force, intelligence gathering, and pre-emptive strikes. The problem is that it is not terrorism they are fighting, it is not evil they are fighting, but rather change. The thing about change is that it will always come, whether we like it or not. People want to remain in their comfortable positions of power, wealth, influence. They resist any 'threat' to those thrones, but as every nation of men in the past has found out, it is only a matter of time until truth surfaces amidst the cries of protest.
(http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/africa/11/13/somalia.reut/index.html)
11.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Reading over the past words I’ve written, it’s pretty easy to see how up until now my destiny’s been scripted. Ask me a thousand times if I’d believe that some dreams could be impeded by glass ceilings and I’d tell you you’re crazy, but that’s precisely how it seems. Can’t predict a game much less life, tripping over possibilities with hardship the only thing in sight. But damn, how ignorant was I back then, thinking I knew how to handle people, knew how to give the words of comfort, when all I did was build black holes so other people’s dreams along with my own would eventually fold. Its wickedly fantastical how life seems to me now an eternally vigilant sabbatical, the shades over my eyes but for some damn reason I’m still not blind; I see clearly the pits and the falls but I go willingly without another motive to stir from an impetus of apathy, to the point where another claims its insanity. So I’ve come to know, from everything I’ve been through, what it is that I’ve learned all along: I’ve learned that I know nothing, that every assumption I’ve made is rooted in folly as it was probability all along without basis in the complexity of reality. As Nightcrawler once posed the question to Logan, would it hurt so much to see the world through different eyes? To maybe wake up one day in relief rather than having a feeling of pain inside. That could be my prescription right there, that what I see isn’t what’s really there but a mystery my subconscious loves to make as taunting for my fear. The can of worms opens and the sight isn’t pretty, notions of time and space go fuzzy as all becomes one in a senseless haze of panic strangely without worry. Words fail to describe how self loathing can carry a soul to its grave prematurely moping the loss of something never had but imagined, my world a visor of supposed protection dissolving away as the depths internal yearn for what has yet to happen. Maybe that’s the savior: the chance of a tomorrow effervescently ever-present, sometimes radiant, sometimes purgatory’s final descendant. Darkness consumes its own direction, as it can’t be sustained in a soul always leaning on idealism’s predilection. As the falling fall and become the fallen, strings from behind pull slowly, back to a point where it’s only a simmering cauldron. But what remains of those assumptions and theories?
Reading over the past words I’ve written, it’s pretty easy to see how up until now my destiny’s been scripted. Ask me a thousand times if I’d believe that some dreams could be impeded by glass ceilings and I’d tell you you’re crazy, but that’s precisely how it seems. Can’t predict a game much less life, tripping over possibilities with hardship the only thing in sight. But damn, how ignorant was I back then, thinking I knew how to handle people, knew how to give the words of comfort, when all I did was build black holes so other people’s dreams along with my own would eventually fold. Its wickedly fantastical how life seems to me now an eternally vigilant sabbatical, the shades over my eyes but for some damn reason I’m still not blind; I see clearly the pits and the falls but I go willingly without another motive to stir from an impetus of apathy, to the point where another claims its insanity. So I’ve come to know, from everything I’ve been through, what it is that I’ve learned all along: I’ve learned that I know nothing, that every assumption I’ve made is rooted in folly as it was probability all along without basis in the complexity of reality. As Nightcrawler once posed the question to Logan, would it hurt so much to see the world through different eyes? To maybe wake up one day in relief rather than having a feeling of pain inside. That could be my prescription right there, that what I see isn’t what’s really there but a mystery my subconscious loves to make as taunting for my fear. The can of worms opens and the sight isn’t pretty, notions of time and space go fuzzy as all becomes one in a senseless haze of panic strangely without worry. Words fail to describe how self loathing can carry a soul to its grave prematurely moping the loss of something never had but imagined, my world a visor of supposed protection dissolving away as the depths internal yearn for what has yet to happen. Maybe that’s the savior: the chance of a tomorrow effervescently ever-present, sometimes radiant, sometimes purgatory’s final descendant. Darkness consumes its own direction, as it can’t be sustained in a soul always leaning on idealism’s predilection. As the falling fall and become the fallen, strings from behind pull slowly, back to a point where it’s only a simmering cauldron. But what remains of those assumptions and theories?
11.06.2006
- in the name of Allah -
limited perceptions of mine frozen by time, isolation in such high doses it all seems frivolously designed. knocked sociality more than once, lost the argument more than twice, wrinkling the nose just doesn't bring the same feel inside. issues and wonder, questions without an answer, days roll smoothly along with only the self to find meaning from purpose cleft asunder. strings of apathy reach around obstacles and bends to try and take a hold of me, warmly embracing without worries or cares, matters for lesser mortals it pleads. can't let go again or else there may be no turning back, not giving a damn one more time and truly there might be no damn left to make even breathing seem worth the effort away slowly seeping. so mirrors should be friends or enemies, when no one else seems to bother with them anyway, shouldn't even care to please. its become about what has to happen rather than what should, for the ideal's been buried under sands of relic and value, with only the worthless left to represent the 'good and true'. my question at times is what to do, is simply the self refined enough or do we stretch our hands to those less fortunate, hoping to teach a thing I myself am ignorant of. I find there are no easy answers, no one step solutions, no formulaic equations to make life like math and all the complication just another part of living diluted. next steps seem like which next ropes to hang the hats off our heads first rather than our brains at least, only a time delayed for their moment of reckoning approaches without warning or cease. I can't scream insanity any more, its a plea of which I'm already guilty, so faith is just about the last pill left worth taking, the last remedy of remedies for spiritual aching. in this last poised stance, there are no spells to cast, no pain killers to lessen the past, but only hard heart aches to stomach and digest with a long gulp of patience to finally be free from dread. maybe tomorrow is a better day, and this possiblity is all I have, I've seen yesterday, and its only a drag.
limited perceptions of mine frozen by time, isolation in such high doses it all seems frivolously designed. knocked sociality more than once, lost the argument more than twice, wrinkling the nose just doesn't bring the same feel inside. issues and wonder, questions without an answer, days roll smoothly along with only the self to find meaning from purpose cleft asunder. strings of apathy reach around obstacles and bends to try and take a hold of me, warmly embracing without worries or cares, matters for lesser mortals it pleads. can't let go again or else there may be no turning back, not giving a damn one more time and truly there might be no damn left to make even breathing seem worth the effort away slowly seeping. so mirrors should be friends or enemies, when no one else seems to bother with them anyway, shouldn't even care to please. its become about what has to happen rather than what should, for the ideal's been buried under sands of relic and value, with only the worthless left to represent the 'good and true'. my question at times is what to do, is simply the self refined enough or do we stretch our hands to those less fortunate, hoping to teach a thing I myself am ignorant of. I find there are no easy answers, no one step solutions, no formulaic equations to make life like math and all the complication just another part of living diluted. next steps seem like which next ropes to hang the hats off our heads first rather than our brains at least, only a time delayed for their moment of reckoning approaches without warning or cease. I can't scream insanity any more, its a plea of which I'm already guilty, so faith is just about the last pill left worth taking, the last remedy of remedies for spiritual aching. in this last poised stance, there are no spells to cast, no pain killers to lessen the past, but only hard heart aches to stomach and digest with a long gulp of patience to finally be free from dread. maybe tomorrow is a better day, and this possiblity is all I have, I've seen yesterday, and its only a drag.
11.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
So after the last post, I was just thinking how easy it was to lose bonds forged in the course of life. how should one act? would attempting to retain some threads of semblance be a vain hope overstretched in the shadows of night, or a valiant effort to make sure the sunrise in fact goes appreciated for once? I am not quite certain, but there is one thing that is clear. if something is to be lost, it is not without our own hand in its doing so, whether we are able to see that reason or not. having said this, with loss still fresh, there is another mindset of which one should be aware. letting go but not forgetting may be the key. one cannot control per se who comes and goes on a personal level, but the distinct feeling one has in regard to another can most definently play a role. so, on that note, I choose not to detach myself, not to let go, yet also not to harbor or hope. it isn't necessarily for me this would be done, though I do take in how it might affect me, but also perhaps the belief that two can or may become more than just one.
So after the last post, I was just thinking how easy it was to lose bonds forged in the course of life. how should one act? would attempting to retain some threads of semblance be a vain hope overstretched in the shadows of night, or a valiant effort to make sure the sunrise in fact goes appreciated for once? I am not quite certain, but there is one thing that is clear. if something is to be lost, it is not without our own hand in its doing so, whether we are able to see that reason or not. having said this, with loss still fresh, there is another mindset of which one should be aware. letting go but not forgetting may be the key. one cannot control per se who comes and goes on a personal level, but the distinct feeling one has in regard to another can most definently play a role. so, on that note, I choose not to detach myself, not to let go, yet also not to harbor or hope. it isn't necessarily for me this would be done, though I do take in how it might affect me, but also perhaps the belief that two can or may become more than just one.
11.01.2006
- in the name of Allah -
they say some people we meet in life come for a reason, some for a season, and some for a lifetime. I'll take this moment to acknowledge having known someone for a season/reason, only the parting is, predictably, bittersweet. clearly, only Allah knows if two should ever meet again later on down the line, but for the moment, I am both gladdened (new word?) by having grown as a person because of this someone, but saddened to part from them. its part of the way Allah does His thing, showing us people at points in life for reasons we don't immediately comprehend, but only realize in hindsight. alhamdulillah for it all. in other news, it may not be initially apparent, but the ice around the land of my imaan seems finally to have thawed, and truth prevails.
one ponders the next step, what the path will hold tomorrow, what perils to be faced, what what fear masked as adventure will abound next. the most important thing I can recollect at this very moment, about anything and everything in general, is this: that beyond our daily lives, beyond our daily struggles, there is a place we have yet to know, a place where only eternity of answers exist for lifetimes of questions. watching a tv show, someone said
"Evolution is often an imperfect and often violent process. Morality loses its meaning; the question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice: survive, or perish." - (Heroes, 10.30.06)
that phrase is brilliant, and were its scope inclusive of anything past death, it would be entirely meaningless. the 'point of it all', the meaning belief everywhere gives, is a purpose in life that yields in death. if we live as if all we have to live for is these 70 or so years, then there exist no substantial reasons, no 'real' grounds, to live life by any rule or system, for any law to mean anything. the end result being, there is never just 'one simple choice'. there will always be many choices. all that remains is for people to choose. (reference: Pascal's wager)
they say some people we meet in life come for a reason, some for a season, and some for a lifetime. I'll take this moment to acknowledge having known someone for a season/reason, only the parting is, predictably, bittersweet. clearly, only Allah knows if two should ever meet again later on down the line, but for the moment, I am both gladdened (new word?) by having grown as a person because of this someone, but saddened to part from them. its part of the way Allah does His thing, showing us people at points in life for reasons we don't immediately comprehend, but only realize in hindsight. alhamdulillah for it all. in other news, it may not be initially apparent, but the ice around the land of my imaan seems finally to have thawed, and truth prevails.
one ponders the next step, what the path will hold tomorrow, what perils to be faced, what what fear masked as adventure will abound next. the most important thing I can recollect at this very moment, about anything and everything in general, is this: that beyond our daily lives, beyond our daily struggles, there is a place we have yet to know, a place where only eternity of answers exist for lifetimes of questions. watching a tv show, someone said
"Evolution is often an imperfect and often violent process. Morality loses its meaning; the question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice: survive, or perish." - (Heroes, 10.30.06)
that phrase is brilliant, and were its scope inclusive of anything past death, it would be entirely meaningless. the 'point of it all', the meaning belief everywhere gives, is a purpose in life that yields in death. if we live as if all we have to live for is these 70 or so years, then there exist no substantial reasons, no 'real' grounds, to live life by any rule or system, for any law to mean anything. the end result being, there is never just 'one simple choice'. there will always be many choices. all that remains is for people to choose. (reference: Pascal's wager)
10.28.2006
- in the name of Allah -
there is no in between for me, even though I'm in the middle. cradles of identity in crisis, revolving doors camouflage the individual. so many parts so contradictory, can't combine a cynic and pacifist in one to relish in the moral victory. paths meant to be taken end up being given short shrift, the world is alive but so carelessly in drift. people reach for the skies, land on their asses, proclaim the world as frauds, only themselves being hopeless and hapless. coping and learning, moping and yearning, necessities drenched in obscenity become simply more disconcerting. ironic I should lose to gain, perspective isn't loss, truth in both danger and name. beginning with depression, finishing with acquiescence, our imaginings a mirage longing for profundity with acceptance. humans evolved, yet trace descendants still exist, either theories are lies, or fables perpetuated myth. no attachment though still serenity, perturbation minimal though of alas plenty. to close, simply cease, desist continuing, just may find a lasting peace.
there is no in between for me, even though I'm in the middle. cradles of identity in crisis, revolving doors camouflage the individual. so many parts so contradictory, can't combine a cynic and pacifist in one to relish in the moral victory. paths meant to be taken end up being given short shrift, the world is alive but so carelessly in drift. people reach for the skies, land on their asses, proclaim the world as frauds, only themselves being hopeless and hapless. coping and learning, moping and yearning, necessities drenched in obscenity become simply more disconcerting. ironic I should lose to gain, perspective isn't loss, truth in both danger and name. beginning with depression, finishing with acquiescence, our imaginings a mirage longing for profundity with acceptance. humans evolved, yet trace descendants still exist, either theories are lies, or fables perpetuated myth. no attachment though still serenity, perturbation minimal though of alas plenty. to close, simply cease, desist continuing, just may find a lasting peace.
10.25.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I rode a black steed on my way toward a darkened sky where the sun never shone, but before the wind could carry away my fear something pulled back inside, and shadow failed once again. What crossing is there for me to seek, what bridge between now and then that I've yet to meet? Why do I feel as if I'm searching for a piece of glass in a sea of sand? They're both the same but different in my hand. Maybe reflections of moments past is what I long for, only too conscience with the realization of which door they're behind. Certainty is rare, tranquility a buried gem, can't find a thing, can barely see the path I've done. Words becoming impossible to string together, a thinning rope I can't hold onto alone forever.
I rode a black steed on my way toward a darkened sky where the sun never shone, but before the wind could carry away my fear something pulled back inside, and shadow failed once again. What crossing is there for me to seek, what bridge between now and then that I've yet to meet? Why do I feel as if I'm searching for a piece of glass in a sea of sand? They're both the same but different in my hand. Maybe reflections of moments past is what I long for, only too conscience with the realization of which door they're behind. Certainty is rare, tranquility a buried gem, can't find a thing, can barely see the path I've done. Words becoming impossible to string together, a thinning rope I can't hold onto alone forever.
10.23.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Indeed, it is over. Whats been different now from times past? Now has no meaning, now has lost its glitz, its shine, its allure. Innocence and naivete made things so easy to follow along without having to find purpose in the moment. Lose those two, and every time you try going somewhere, you ask yourself why, how, if it really matters. Sometimes, we reach the wrong conclusions, becoming limited by our own selves. It seems so significant that I feel physically sick, probably because of it. Inconsistencies between the soul and mind, between desire and need, become physically manifested when it becomes that big a deal. So what needs are there unmet? I am blessed with food, shelter, clothing, a loving family, but yet there remains something elusive missing. As for wants, I ridicule their very notion, so they only receive momentary attention and poof are gone again.
You might say its Islam I'm subconsciously seeking. Thats possible, although there was a time I 'had' it, yet still there was an unmistakable absence of something or other. You might say its a significant other I'm seeking. That wouldn't really be possibly, simply for that fact I've accepted the part I have to play (able to support) before that part of life can come to fruition. Is it possible then, the very thing I have disdained for the longest time, the concept of socialization, could be at the heart of the missingness? The paradox is there. I dislike excessive socializing, preferring a handful of meaning to a bucket of crap. It is true however, many relationships with people I'd formerly been well acquainted with have been broken in time. Is it as simple as reconnecting with kindred spirits? Only time will tell, and inshAllah, before it becomes a thing foregone.
Indeed, it is over. Whats been different now from times past? Now has no meaning, now has lost its glitz, its shine, its allure. Innocence and naivete made things so easy to follow along without having to find purpose in the moment. Lose those two, and every time you try going somewhere, you ask yourself why, how, if it really matters. Sometimes, we reach the wrong conclusions, becoming limited by our own selves. It seems so significant that I feel physically sick, probably because of it. Inconsistencies between the soul and mind, between desire and need, become physically manifested when it becomes that big a deal. So what needs are there unmet? I am blessed with food, shelter, clothing, a loving family, but yet there remains something elusive missing. As for wants, I ridicule their very notion, so they only receive momentary attention and poof are gone again.
You might say its Islam I'm subconsciously seeking. Thats possible, although there was a time I 'had' it, yet still there was an unmistakable absence of something or other. You might say its a significant other I'm seeking. That wouldn't really be possibly, simply for that fact I've accepted the part I have to play (able to support) before that part of life can come to fruition. Is it possible then, the very thing I have disdained for the longest time, the concept of socialization, could be at the heart of the missingness? The paradox is there. I dislike excessive socializing, preferring a handful of meaning to a bucket of crap. It is true however, many relationships with people I'd formerly been well acquainted with have been broken in time. Is it as simple as reconnecting with kindred spirits? Only time will tell, and inshAllah, before it becomes a thing foregone.
10.19.2006
- in the name of Allah -
With ramadhan almost over, one wonders ahead to whats next. Kind of ironic since it seems I made so little of the month while I had the chance, but its this time of year that brings out the most ironically cynic part of me that begs the question (to others) why should these days be any different in terms of how we treat them...though I can myself answer that apparent predicament. These days are different, they feel different, as if theres a light rain on the world, a soothing rain that brings a little peace to me, if only I had motive to seek it out. So to what end were these last 30 or so days coming soon to a close? Truly, only Allah knows His wisdom; humanity plays out its part and comes to know sometimes too late. Interesting to note, but I think that even if people knew or could know what really was to come tomorrow, they would still make the same mistakes over again. Which brings us to the point, how exactly humanity is defined, how it will define itself, how the just are seperate from the injust, and so on.
In any case, after a recent postulation from a friend regarding my own search of a passion, the answer hit that same night..what have I done all throughout my life, when times have been rough to when they've been idyllic? Poetry. As off as it may have been, thats the utensil I use in spilling the guts out my mind, of finding light at the end of narrower and narrower tunnels. And so, encore it goes.
a passion pruned, a mystery mourned, awoke the stargazer to find the world's been scorned. the planet spinned on its axis faster than he could have imagined, yet time lay still, a throbbing heart waiting for its moment of ashes. where were the spellbooks, the potions, the magicks of magic past? just when it mattered most, his lofty reverie failed him and it all came to crash. dull thuds and torrential knocks, reality's visitation was one he'd pay heed to else revoke his sanity to thoughts within a prison locked. the door of senses slowly open creaked, haunting memories in tow, for just another grave of dreams. no funeral, no tears, no black garb, only many needless fears laid to rest. though the coffins may never close, their runes are silent- in place of vigils, a darkened rose. there is no aftermath, no going back to the scene, fate stole the gazer's lines, leaving him speechlessly serene. its not often that an actor finds purpose from an unknown script, but when the roads are finally built, its hard not to appreciate what is.
With ramadhan almost over, one wonders ahead to whats next. Kind of ironic since it seems I made so little of the month while I had the chance, but its this time of year that brings out the most ironically cynic part of me that begs the question (to others) why should these days be any different in terms of how we treat them...though I can myself answer that apparent predicament. These days are different, they feel different, as if theres a light rain on the world, a soothing rain that brings a little peace to me, if only I had motive to seek it out. So to what end were these last 30 or so days coming soon to a close? Truly, only Allah knows His wisdom; humanity plays out its part and comes to know sometimes too late. Interesting to note, but I think that even if people knew or could know what really was to come tomorrow, they would still make the same mistakes over again. Which brings us to the point, how exactly humanity is defined, how it will define itself, how the just are seperate from the injust, and so on.
In any case, after a recent postulation from a friend regarding my own search of a passion, the answer hit that same night..what have I done all throughout my life, when times have been rough to when they've been idyllic? Poetry. As off as it may have been, thats the utensil I use in spilling the guts out my mind, of finding light at the end of narrower and narrower tunnels. And so, encore it goes.
a passion pruned, a mystery mourned, awoke the stargazer to find the world's been scorned. the planet spinned on its axis faster than he could have imagined, yet time lay still, a throbbing heart waiting for its moment of ashes. where were the spellbooks, the potions, the magicks of magic past? just when it mattered most, his lofty reverie failed him and it all came to crash. dull thuds and torrential knocks, reality's visitation was one he'd pay heed to else revoke his sanity to thoughts within a prison locked. the door of senses slowly open creaked, haunting memories in tow, for just another grave of dreams. no funeral, no tears, no black garb, only many needless fears laid to rest. though the coffins may never close, their runes are silent- in place of vigils, a darkened rose. there is no aftermath, no going back to the scene, fate stole the gazer's lines, leaving him speechlessly serene. its not often that an actor finds purpose from an unknown script, but when the roads are finally built, its hard not to appreciate what is.
10.13.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I imagine on this breezy chill of a fall afternoon, how it must be for countless numbers of people around the world, people who do not contend with their own selves as foes, but rather must face the harsh realities around them, battling hunger, poverty, strife as often they have time for breath. Their challenge is outside for them, in plain sight, but by no means as easy as seeing the obstacle. I compare that to myself, one who's greatest obstacle in life thus far has been his own mind, his own nafs. There have few, if any necessities, of which I have been deprived, and almost as few wants I have not had fulfilled along the way. Is my journey any easier or any more difficult than those who haven't homes or whose children have been lost in senseless conflict? I can't imagine it is. My only hope is that rather than becoming enamored in my own difficulties, I should join those select few who give a damn about the rest of the world and strive every day to bring it tangible peace, peace not hidden in cloaks of supposed democracy, but peace in plates of hot food, in bottles of clean drink, and perhaps most importantly, in rejoined pieces of families broken apart.
I imagine on this breezy chill of a fall afternoon, how it must be for countless numbers of people around the world, people who do not contend with their own selves as foes, but rather must face the harsh realities around them, battling hunger, poverty, strife as often they have time for breath. Their challenge is outside for them, in plain sight, but by no means as easy as seeing the obstacle. I compare that to myself, one who's greatest obstacle in life thus far has been his own mind, his own nafs. There have few, if any necessities, of which I have been deprived, and almost as few wants I have not had fulfilled along the way. Is my journey any easier or any more difficult than those who haven't homes or whose children have been lost in senseless conflict? I can't imagine it is. My only hope is that rather than becoming enamored in my own difficulties, I should join those select few who give a damn about the rest of the world and strive every day to bring it tangible peace, peace not hidden in cloaks of supposed democracy, but peace in plates of hot food, in bottles of clean drink, and perhaps most importantly, in rejoined pieces of families broken apart.
10.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
alas, time never ceases. things we take for granted often come back to us when we least expect them. alh, a calc quiz went well today, a first in that class. I wonder where communism went bad, maybe it was the lure of power and money? who knows.
few words left to speak as the mind finds its niche in the land of peace, though trifles arent so trifling when creditors and hurricane winds are both at the front door knocking, wanting a piece of your pie slice. with only crumbs left in crisis, how will you feed the wolves of fate and greed? there almost no easy answers, no shortcuts short enough, no solution without a method lost in the annals of collected dust. it all comes full circle as you either put the jigsaw puzzle together or lay mired in trenches of what's already been done. along the way of this tumultuous path, is there time to smell the roses, time to seek out sweet scents past the fences everyone's holding? maybe there's time to climb one or two, just in case those souls carry traces of Jannah's musk and need a little trust to be carried on through. its true there are no portals to sucess or happiness, but taken a bit at a time, you can build a monument of prosperity from shards of indigenously cynical reality. all it requires is time and some TLC, a little motivation, and love for Allah in large quantities.
alas, time never ceases. things we take for granted often come back to us when we least expect them. alh, a calc quiz went well today, a first in that class. I wonder where communism went bad, maybe it was the lure of power and money? who knows.
few words left to speak as the mind finds its niche in the land of peace, though trifles arent so trifling when creditors and hurricane winds are both at the front door knocking, wanting a piece of your pie slice. with only crumbs left in crisis, how will you feed the wolves of fate and greed? there almost no easy answers, no shortcuts short enough, no solution without a method lost in the annals of collected dust. it all comes full circle as you either put the jigsaw puzzle together or lay mired in trenches of what's already been done. along the way of this tumultuous path, is there time to smell the roses, time to seek out sweet scents past the fences everyone's holding? maybe there's time to climb one or two, just in case those souls carry traces of Jannah's musk and need a little trust to be carried on through. its true there are no portals to sucess or happiness, but taken a bit at a time, you can build a monument of prosperity from shards of indigenously cynical reality. all it requires is time and some TLC, a little motivation, and love for Allah in large quantities.
10.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
my cat
he looked into my eyes with a little suspicion, a little bit of wonder, a little bit of why, scars and scratches seemed to count off the tally of fate without even a shadow's glimpse of the love underneath. funny how sometimes we reach and we clutch for the very things we so easily push away, how every one of our wants become musts, how distant possibilities become certainties in league with our distrust. we seek power fame and acceptance but none of those things bring love without a whirlstorm of regrettable penance. maybe if our walls fall down for just a split second's time, we can open our eyes and see beyond the colorless blinds that impede sight and progress of time; maybe if we stop battling the tides and instead rejuvenate the truth, it just might overcome the haze of lies and spread the hand of innocence and vision lost early on in youth.
my cat
he looked into my eyes with a little suspicion, a little bit of wonder, a little bit of why, scars and scratches seemed to count off the tally of fate without even a shadow's glimpse of the love underneath. funny how sometimes we reach and we clutch for the very things we so easily push away, how every one of our wants become musts, how distant possibilities become certainties in league with our distrust. we seek power fame and acceptance but none of those things bring love without a whirlstorm of regrettable penance. maybe if our walls fall down for just a split second's time, we can open our eyes and see beyond the colorless blinds that impede sight and progress of time; maybe if we stop battling the tides and instead rejuvenate the truth, it just might overcome the haze of lies and spread the hand of innocence and vision lost early on in youth.
9.25.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Alh, ramadan has started and it already seems to be bringing in a peaceful aura so dearly missed from before. The question, though,incessantly remains: where are we going? what are we doing? I think much of life is a continual, gradual build-up of coming to know the self. As my own resistance and distaste for incorrigible incongruities of fate with religion and life subside, things are less cynical, less pessimistic. It doesn't mean that optimism has found its roots, yet, for sure. But, as with everything else we expose ourselves to, what begins also has an end, though in some respect humanity is the only (purpose for) exception to that rule; the state and nature of the soul is granted eternity from a singular point of creation. Why, how, morally yes or no, these are all questions I have stopped attempting to discern, for they cannot be. Our answers are simple and rehersed enough to fool the first glance or the second cursory one, but upon further, logical, examination, there are found many things one simply cannot explain/tackle/simplify/ennumerate/delinate/grasp/etc. Perhaps the only consistency I have found in life, albeit one that jumps and leaps over time (so you never know when), is that what you put forth is what you will receive in return. Treat others with respect, and at some point respect will find its way back to you. Dog the world, dog those 'beneath' you, and at some time or other, you will find yourself at the shorter end of the stick. I believe the same holds true for how much 'faith' we place in Allah. Place much, and one learns patience and steadfastness as primary qualities. Place little, and one finds only questions with no answers and solitude with no companion. Slowly, I ease back on track- beginning as usual, in my head. Alhamdulillah for it, as its something as spontaneous as it is gradual in coming. The one who spawned the cracking of the dams should be thanked, so thank you sal and may Allah reward you plenty now and then, ameen. Now, I need sleep for class/suhoor iA.
ma'asalaam.
Alh, ramadan has started and it already seems to be bringing in a peaceful aura so dearly missed from before. The question, though,incessantly remains: where are we going? what are we doing? I think much of life is a continual, gradual build-up of coming to know the self. As my own resistance and distaste for incorrigible incongruities of fate with religion and life subside, things are less cynical, less pessimistic. It doesn't mean that optimism has found its roots, yet, for sure. But, as with everything else we expose ourselves to, what begins also has an end, though in some respect humanity is the only (purpose for) exception to that rule; the state and nature of the soul is granted eternity from a singular point of creation. Why, how, morally yes or no, these are all questions I have stopped attempting to discern, for they cannot be. Our answers are simple and rehersed enough to fool the first glance or the second cursory one, but upon further, logical, examination, there are found many things one simply cannot explain/tackle/simplify/ennumerate/delinate/grasp/etc. Perhaps the only consistency I have found in life, albeit one that jumps and leaps over time (so you never know when), is that what you put forth is what you will receive in return. Treat others with respect, and at some point respect will find its way back to you. Dog the world, dog those 'beneath' you, and at some time or other, you will find yourself at the shorter end of the stick. I believe the same holds true for how much 'faith' we place in Allah. Place much, and one learns patience and steadfastness as primary qualities. Place little, and one finds only questions with no answers and solitude with no companion. Slowly, I ease back on track- beginning as usual, in my head. Alhamdulillah for it, as its something as spontaneous as it is gradual in coming. The one who spawned the cracking of the dams should be thanked, so thank you sal and may Allah reward you plenty now and then, ameen. Now, I need sleep for class/suhoor iA.
ma'asalaam.
9.07.2006
- in the name of Allah -
sometimes I find that caring can be just as detrimental as being apathetic, though in some ways that might make sense. imagine living life on any/either extreme; what does that set you up for? granted that life, in reality, is often always never unanimous or one-sided or open-and-shut as people think it is, it would mean that attaching dogma of the soul to either end of the spectrum is akin to asking for a letdown, in more ways than one. I find that neutrality is one of the safest places in life, somewhat akin to being in one's own world, except for allowing empathy with anyone and everyone else while maintaining a distance. lately I've been thinking about theories, not specific ones, but the idea of how much they really mean to people in everyday life. as it turns out, I honestly cant say I'd give a damn about them.
in some ways, the truth is always clear. its that people never want to see it. seeing personalized plates with personalized palattes makes more sense to most than seeing a whole, USDA Grade-A egg in the place of a steamed crab. it isnt always easy to distinguish truth, and it probably is a fact that every single position in life, from those of criminals to those of saints, has a main, central focus, that is, at surface, impeccably sound. I take that to mean that the truth, or parts of it, lies in everything. nothing can be a complete lie because we have the ability to attribute meaning, something no machine or statistical formula can do. but, is partial truth enough? I dont think it is. to this day, I dont know how people can look beyond what they want to see, without affecting their vision with their own bias. I think that I see the truth, as distateful or disliked it may be, and yet it is better that I do so instead of ignoring it or blasphemying it. in any case, the truth cant entirely be found within the self, simply because human beings are incomplete. we combine the good with the bad, and live as if everything was ok (or not). because of this, we have to look outside ourselves, get in touch with our inner humanity and soul.
eventually, we should ask "can life exist without purpose?". if you think it can be lived without purpose, I'd suggest go jumping off a bridge. if you think it can't be, I'd say you're on the right track. wonder why? let's use the basic instict of the nature of reason itself. we observe a law of nature that says actions which animals do tend to have meaning, to achieve some productive or destructive end, though never denying themselves the right to be. if I were to take the reason/logic from that statement, put it in a chair beside me, and interview it, the very first self-right it would claim would be that of existence. what thing would want something less than self-perpetuation? hence, reason firstly would want to "live" and not die, that being the order of nature. if it asserts the right of existence, we should probe deeper and likely we would reach the point of contention of all theologians and philosophers: what was before then, if it was meant to exist? in what defense would reason reply? in the very least, it would probably lead us to seek answers of more depth, more sophistry perhaps, than ones we usually settle for.
but a simple analogy may suffice: were life to be without purpose, then it would like having a bottle without a bottle cap; looking at whats inside cant quench your thirst, so what else is there except to open the bottle and find out whats inside?
sometimes I find that caring can be just as detrimental as being apathetic, though in some ways that might make sense. imagine living life on any/either extreme; what does that set you up for? granted that life, in reality, is often always never unanimous or one-sided or open-and-shut as people think it is, it would mean that attaching dogma of the soul to either end of the spectrum is akin to asking for a letdown, in more ways than one. I find that neutrality is one of the safest places in life, somewhat akin to being in one's own world, except for allowing empathy with anyone and everyone else while maintaining a distance. lately I've been thinking about theories, not specific ones, but the idea of how much they really mean to people in everyday life. as it turns out, I honestly cant say I'd give a damn about them.
in some ways, the truth is always clear. its that people never want to see it. seeing personalized plates with personalized palattes makes more sense to most than seeing a whole, USDA Grade-A egg in the place of a steamed crab. it isnt always easy to distinguish truth, and it probably is a fact that every single position in life, from those of criminals to those of saints, has a main, central focus, that is, at surface, impeccably sound. I take that to mean that the truth, or parts of it, lies in everything. nothing can be a complete lie because we have the ability to attribute meaning, something no machine or statistical formula can do. but, is partial truth enough? I dont think it is. to this day, I dont know how people can look beyond what they want to see, without affecting their vision with their own bias. I think that I see the truth, as distateful or disliked it may be, and yet it is better that I do so instead of ignoring it or blasphemying it. in any case, the truth cant entirely be found within the self, simply because human beings are incomplete. we combine the good with the bad, and live as if everything was ok (or not). because of this, we have to look outside ourselves, get in touch with our inner humanity and soul.
eventually, we should ask "can life exist without purpose?". if you think it can be lived without purpose, I'd suggest go jumping off a bridge. if you think it can't be, I'd say you're on the right track. wonder why? let's use the basic instict of the nature of reason itself. we observe a law of nature that says actions which animals do tend to have meaning, to achieve some productive or destructive end, though never denying themselves the right to be. if I were to take the reason/logic from that statement, put it in a chair beside me, and interview it, the very first self-right it would claim would be that of existence. what thing would want something less than self-perpetuation? hence, reason firstly would want to "live" and not die, that being the order of nature. if it asserts the right of existence, we should probe deeper and likely we would reach the point of contention of all theologians and philosophers: what was before then, if it was meant to exist? in what defense would reason reply? in the very least, it would probably lead us to seek answers of more depth, more sophistry perhaps, than ones we usually settle for.
but a simple analogy may suffice: were life to be without purpose, then it would like having a bottle without a bottle cap; looking at whats inside cant quench your thirst, so what else is there except to open the bottle and find out whats inside?
9.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
So the school year has begun and many times one finds busy-ness the primary occupation, though also dotted with sizable spells of freeness, when the mind can roam and time seems to move a little slower.
I marvel at human relationships, at how one memory, one tiny recollection from months or years ago, can at any present moment, lead one to act. What lever should click in his or her mind, what nuance of apparent negligible consequence could push the button in the consciousness that takes one from thought to action? It is simply amazing.
Anyways, what's more intriguing is the train of reaction/action that might result. Hmm, but it does seem that as time passes, things seem to mean less. What was once held as precious yesterday, is but a glare in the rear view mirror now.
to what end or avail is that wave of goodbye if Im only alive for another day to give death a warm, open greeting with pain as my speech and loss my lone understanding. there's much to be had but even more to be lost, a moment can make the brick on a mountain or break the hardest safe without one calorie's cost. trying is for achieving, but where would that lead? isn't there just a closed road seeming open where bandages cant stop memories from bleeding, a closed road where liars and cheats abound to make money to fuel appetites and divorced families?
- abruptly ended, train of thought derailed by a runny cold -_-
So the school year has begun and many times one finds busy-ness the primary occupation, though also dotted with sizable spells of freeness, when the mind can roam and time seems to move a little slower.
I marvel at human relationships, at how one memory, one tiny recollection from months or years ago, can at any present moment, lead one to act. What lever should click in his or her mind, what nuance of apparent negligible consequence could push the button in the consciousness that takes one from thought to action? It is simply amazing.
Anyways, what's more intriguing is the train of reaction/action that might result. Hmm, but it does seem that as time passes, things seem to mean less. What was once held as precious yesterday, is but a glare in the rear view mirror now.
to what end or avail is that wave of goodbye if Im only alive for another day to give death a warm, open greeting with pain as my speech and loss my lone understanding. there's much to be had but even more to be lost, a moment can make the brick on a mountain or break the hardest safe without one calorie's cost. trying is for achieving, but where would that lead? isn't there just a closed road seeming open where bandages cant stop memories from bleeding, a closed road where liars and cheats abound to make money to fuel appetites and divorced families?
- abruptly ended, train of thought derailed by a runny cold -_-
8.28.2006
- in the name of Allah -
From earlier today:
Vigilantes in vests combing the woods of antiquity without rest; so many loggers in uniform change public opinion from service to servitude with only pricks of conscience as thorns. Habitats and habits slowly crumble as chaos opens its arms, embracing the bosom of struggle. Pain breeds defiance or indifference, the former seeking ladders while the latter crawl into apathy's decadence. Criticism is plenty though surety is few, words uttered as insults dangle as daggers in throats while smiles cover up what wrongs people do.
As for what aim or purpose, just about purely random muse. Gotta love free time on the first day of classes.
From earlier today:
Vigilantes in vests combing the woods of antiquity without rest; so many loggers in uniform change public opinion from service to servitude with only pricks of conscience as thorns. Habitats and habits slowly crumble as chaos opens its arms, embracing the bosom of struggle. Pain breeds defiance or indifference, the former seeking ladders while the latter crawl into apathy's decadence. Criticism is plenty though surety is few, words uttered as insults dangle as daggers in throats while smiles cover up what wrongs people do.
As for what aim or purpose, just about purely random muse. Gotta love free time on the first day of classes.
8.18.2006
- in the name of Allah -
"...it was reported that Abu Waaqid al-Laythi (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: “Whilst the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) was sitting in the mosque and there were some people with him, three people came in. Two of them came to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) and one went away. When they came up to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him), they greeted him with salaam. One of them found a space in the circle and sat down, and the other sat down behind him. The third one turned and went away. When the Messenger (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) had finished (his talk), he said: ‘Shall I tell you about these three people? One of them turned to Allaah so Allaah accepted him; the second felt shy so Allaah will feel shy (to punish him); and the third turned away so Allaah turned away from him.” (Narrated by Maalik in al-Muwatta’, 2/960; Ahmad, 5/219; al-Bukhaari, 1/24, 122; Muslim, 4/1713, no. 2176; al-Tirmidhi, 5/73, no. 2724; Abu Ya’laa, 3/33, no. 1445)"
- (from Jaysh's post on islamica)
now about that bold part, isn't that what everyone's seeking?
"...it was reported that Abu Waaqid al-Laythi (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: “Whilst the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) was sitting in the mosque and there were some people with him, three people came in. Two of them came to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) and one went away. When they came up to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him), they greeted him with salaam. One of them found a space in the circle and sat down, and the other sat down behind him. The third one turned and went away. When the Messenger (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) had finished (his talk), he said: ‘Shall I tell you about these three people? One of them turned to Allaah so Allaah accepted him; the second felt shy so Allaah will feel shy (to punish him); and the third turned away so Allaah turned away from him.” (Narrated by Maalik in al-Muwatta’, 2/960; Ahmad, 5/219; al-Bukhaari, 1/24, 122; Muslim, 4/1713, no. 2176; al-Tirmidhi, 5/73, no. 2724; Abu Ya’laa, 3/33, no. 1445)"
- (from Jaysh's post on islamica)
now about that bold part, isn't that what everyone's seeking?
8.16.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Why must nihilistic fatalism be such a defining characteristic in the human persona? It defeats all notion of logic and sense, abiding only some waves of emotion's tide. Not to mention all the great 'criminals' of the past who've done the unthinkable, both new and terrible things. Were these actions a precursor to their doom, or was it some last-minute conspiratorial move by fate? Every day, it seems, is a day one cannot escape from fate.
Yet we are challenged, to be greater than ourselves, greater than our weaknesses, greater than our archnemesis. Such is the state of life, of this life. If we cannot find peace here, will it be found anywhere? Perhaps, though certainty only comes with death.
I can explain nothing, give reason to no personal fallacy of mine. The clouds of being are often more dense than my most impenetrable fog, a fog quite usually self-created. The paradoxical nature of my still breathing, hold air in my lungs, is a wisdom on the other side of the lids of my eyes: every time I open them, I think I see but just as quickly they vanish.
Why must nihilistic fatalism be such a defining characteristic in the human persona? It defeats all notion of logic and sense, abiding only some waves of emotion's tide. Not to mention all the great 'criminals' of the past who've done the unthinkable, both new and terrible things. Were these actions a precursor to their doom, or was it some last-minute conspiratorial move by fate? Every day, it seems, is a day one cannot escape from fate.
Yet we are challenged, to be greater than ourselves, greater than our weaknesses, greater than our archnemesis. Such is the state of life, of this life. If we cannot find peace here, will it be found anywhere? Perhaps, though certainty only comes with death.
I can explain nothing, give reason to no personal fallacy of mine. The clouds of being are often more dense than my most impenetrable fog, a fog quite usually self-created. The paradoxical nature of my still breathing, hold air in my lungs, is a wisdom on the other side of the lids of my eyes: every time I open them, I think I see but just as quickly they vanish.
8.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
After watching the video: "Against Zionism: Jewish Perspectives", something occurred to me. Oppression, wherever it is, has no favorites, has no friends, has no allies. Oppression hates anything and everything that isn't the same, or doesn't agree with its theology. Whats ironic is that I saw a new perspective, one I didnt quite imagine possible; there are a significant minority of Jews who are against zionism, against occupation. And imagine, "Jews" persecuting Jews. Whod a thunk it? It brings me to realize the danger of generalizations, and the even greater danger of oppression in the battles that all of us, every single human being alive, must fight at his or her own level every single day. I doubt there is a silver bullet, but I think an aluminum bullet of truth may do well to penetrate the bowels of injustice, so long as the guns of words rain truth from the mouths of the righteous and brave. (try saying that 5 times fast o_o)
may Allah grant the truth victory, and give it the ability to mesh with, and accept others like it wherever it is found. Ameen
After watching the video: "Against Zionism: Jewish Perspectives", something occurred to me. Oppression, wherever it is, has no favorites, has no friends, has no allies. Oppression hates anything and everything that isn't the same, or doesn't agree with its theology. Whats ironic is that I saw a new perspective, one I didnt quite imagine possible; there are a significant minority of Jews who are against zionism, against occupation. And imagine, "Jews" persecuting Jews. Whod a thunk it? It brings me to realize the danger of generalizations, and the even greater danger of oppression in the battles that all of us, every single human being alive, must fight at his or her own level every single day. I doubt there is a silver bullet, but I think an aluminum bullet of truth may do well to penetrate the bowels of injustice, so long as the guns of words rain truth from the mouths of the righteous and brave. (try saying that 5 times fast o_o)
may Allah grant the truth victory, and give it the ability to mesh with, and accept others like it wherever it is found. Ameen
8.10.2006
8.09.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Inna ma'al yusri, yusra. (Indeed, with hardship there is ease)
I've found this to be true, alh.
Pieces of my past find their graves easily enough, though the doors of possibilty were once opened, I think finally now I've been able to keep them shut. I don't know what price we have to pay for daring to dream, for daring to think ourselves above the ones who fall through the seams, but I know I'd rather have my dreams die in the pits than have myself fall in it. A small fee, to be sure, that I keep the nafs marching along to the tune of a song mechanically intertwined but in higher purposes designed.
To this day, I don't know quite what I want. Sure, to be on my feet is a something unto itself. But deep down, what? Is there anything? It probably takes a long to figure out what it is that one is really seeking..hopefully not a lifetime *shrug*. Interestingly, it occurs to me that what I "want" may not even be in this plane of existence, in this phase of life. So, if that is the case, what does one do exactly if the sea around you is Dead and dried, with the last moisture to be found is in the stars and constellations? :O
Inna ma'al yusri, yusra. (Indeed, with hardship there is ease)
I've found this to be true, alh.
Pieces of my past find their graves easily enough, though the doors of possibilty were once opened, I think finally now I've been able to keep them shut. I don't know what price we have to pay for daring to dream, for daring to think ourselves above the ones who fall through the seams, but I know I'd rather have my dreams die in the pits than have myself fall in it. A small fee, to be sure, that I keep the nafs marching along to the tune of a song mechanically intertwined but in higher purposes designed.
To this day, I don't know quite what I want. Sure, to be on my feet is a something unto itself. But deep down, what? Is there anything? It probably takes a long to figure out what it is that one is really seeking..hopefully not a lifetime *shrug*. Interestingly, it occurs to me that what I "want" may not even be in this plane of existence, in this phase of life. So, if that is the case, what does one do exactly if the sea around you is Dead and dried, with the last moisture to be found is in the stars and constellations? :O
8.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Everyone seems to be rushing towards the shores of acceptance while I remain a lone malcontent, wishing tomorrow was a bastard from today or the day after, a poor man trying to pay a decade’s worth of rent. Sun rises and sets don’t seem to carry their weight anymore, either that or aesthetics lost their appeal and all the colors became blurrily myopic through the dusty window of a ready-made store; only that ready-made stores no longer exist as the devil crept down from his throne and gave people a few more toys to play with. The community died when the individual was born, resulting in a society of separate and separated islands, each wanting its own when there’s no space for egos even when they’re silent. Speech is borne to dust and money and lust prevail as goals subtly disguised in the name of progress, the age is nicknamed liberal while truth is shackled to radioactive minerals, still digging the mines and providing the shinier things at its own expense, leaving the armies above to trample in ignorance while laying for their own selves a land of mines. I began these words with a personal aim but look I’ve diverged and my own purpose seems a casualty by indifference slain. I don’t care to look at the past if I rather live today, but when I look around me mountains and trees are falling while nature is supplanted with science and a metallic glimmer I find appalling. I wonder if science is the backbone of today’s democracies, governments and puppets who think they’ve played their roles in establishing order in a midst of perpetrated and perpetual chaos. Science or not, I think it was all lost when people commonly thought life without a god was the life to be lived, that killing the origin of ideals would solve the nuisance of metaphysical contributions, but alas, the physical that is meta is meta with reason and not such that their blunt swords and blades can penetrate while covered in treason. Life needs a purpose, no scientist can prove this, take it away and life is a rose dying with but a thorn to leave the world’s beauty a little more lifeless. She’s getting married today, a past I knew is hitting the winds and fans of time at a speed I never knew existed, with a dispassionate heave that I never thought I could muster, but its true, the instinct of survival persisted. I’m supposed to find fitting words in these last few lines, something to claim a grasp over the whole tribulation, but the metaphors and similes fail me; the icy grip of truth robs the heart and gives reins to reason, letting the ashes fall and the dust blow. Writing for ages wouldn’t soften the landing, but if there’s no landing, there’d never be another flight, another soaring to dare the skies of destiny and challenge a future I never knew lay ahead of me.
Everyone seems to be rushing towards the shores of acceptance while I remain a lone malcontent, wishing tomorrow was a bastard from today or the day after, a poor man trying to pay a decade’s worth of rent. Sun rises and sets don’t seem to carry their weight anymore, either that or aesthetics lost their appeal and all the colors became blurrily myopic through the dusty window of a ready-made store; only that ready-made stores no longer exist as the devil crept down from his throne and gave people a few more toys to play with. The community died when the individual was born, resulting in a society of separate and separated islands, each wanting its own when there’s no space for egos even when they’re silent. Speech is borne to dust and money and lust prevail as goals subtly disguised in the name of progress, the age is nicknamed liberal while truth is shackled to radioactive minerals, still digging the mines and providing the shinier things at its own expense, leaving the armies above to trample in ignorance while laying for their own selves a land of mines. I began these words with a personal aim but look I’ve diverged and my own purpose seems a casualty by indifference slain. I don’t care to look at the past if I rather live today, but when I look around me mountains and trees are falling while nature is supplanted with science and a metallic glimmer I find appalling. I wonder if science is the backbone of today’s democracies, governments and puppets who think they’ve played their roles in establishing order in a midst of perpetrated and perpetual chaos. Science or not, I think it was all lost when people commonly thought life without a god was the life to be lived, that killing the origin of ideals would solve the nuisance of metaphysical contributions, but alas, the physical that is meta is meta with reason and not such that their blunt swords and blades can penetrate while covered in treason. Life needs a purpose, no scientist can prove this, take it away and life is a rose dying with but a thorn to leave the world’s beauty a little more lifeless. She’s getting married today, a past I knew is hitting the winds and fans of time at a speed I never knew existed, with a dispassionate heave that I never thought I could muster, but its true, the instinct of survival persisted. I’m supposed to find fitting words in these last few lines, something to claim a grasp over the whole tribulation, but the metaphors and similes fail me; the icy grip of truth robs the heart and gives reins to reason, letting the ashes fall and the dust blow. Writing for ages wouldn’t soften the landing, but if there’s no landing, there’d never be another flight, another soaring to dare the skies of destiny and challenge a future I never knew lay ahead of me.
7.31.2006
- in the name of Allah -
It never ceases to amaze me how in the sight of family, there are no such things as distance and seperation. Sure, you find the moments of some choosing sides or those irreconcilable differences that cause divorce and the like, but I wonder at how often, if it came down to life or death and jumping off a cliff or grabbing hold of someone's hand, the truth would come to light.
What could possibly make a family ever greater? .... If the whole ummah was a part of it.
It never ceases to amaze me how in the sight of family, there are no such things as distance and seperation. Sure, you find the moments of some choosing sides or those irreconcilable differences that cause divorce and the like, but I wonder at how often, if it came down to life or death and jumping off a cliff or grabbing hold of someone's hand, the truth would come to light.
What could possibly make a family ever greater? .... If the whole ummah was a part of it.
7.28.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Sometimes the mind can be one's own worst enemy. Last few days, thoughts of the following:
It was a choice that I made, a choice to me that destiny gave. No whispers just the dark side coming to light and claiming the future as a pack of lies from forces above, how only the moment matters and nothing else does. Life is a maze with us as the rats, loving this lab and finding the cheese seems to be what we’re best at. There paths to be had with outcomes to accepted rather than expectations that last, making choice but a cloud which we can’t see further past. If life was fully just in consequences but nature’s grip one sided, just where is this panoramic view of utopia where no one’s fighting? The very character of what makes the human a being is his very downfall, his scissors turned sword when he thought he was an artist beyond all means. So if one isn’t to fall off cliffs or go rolling boulders, he lives in cages and prisons where gravity is the warden and death a forgotten savior. There’s sanity we’re told to uphold and hold dearly, for if we let the blinds fall and try to look clearly the sun comes down right over our heads and suddenly we’re blinded. If you choose to see, then it’s a path down a road with no return, if you choose to refrain, there’s a road where with every step comes the chance of a landslide that yesterday returns. Before every bliss is a bane and a trap, a tool for the sane that reaches deep down and turns clarity into cataracts. A bump in the road, bumped for a lifetime, stunted in growth, its raining with no clouds in sunshine.
Sometimes the mind can be one's own worst enemy. Last few days, thoughts of the following:
It was a choice that I made, a choice to me that destiny gave. No whispers just the dark side coming to light and claiming the future as a pack of lies from forces above, how only the moment matters and nothing else does. Life is a maze with us as the rats, loving this lab and finding the cheese seems to be what we’re best at. There paths to be had with outcomes to accepted rather than expectations that last, making choice but a cloud which we can’t see further past. If life was fully just in consequences but nature’s grip one sided, just where is this panoramic view of utopia where no one’s fighting? The very character of what makes the human a being is his very downfall, his scissors turned sword when he thought he was an artist beyond all means. So if one isn’t to fall off cliffs or go rolling boulders, he lives in cages and prisons where gravity is the warden and death a forgotten savior. There’s sanity we’re told to uphold and hold dearly, for if we let the blinds fall and try to look clearly the sun comes down right over our heads and suddenly we’re blinded. If you choose to see, then it’s a path down a road with no return, if you choose to refrain, there’s a road where with every step comes the chance of a landslide that yesterday returns. Before every bliss is a bane and a trap, a tool for the sane that reaches deep down and turns clarity into cataracts. A bump in the road, bumped for a lifetime, stunted in growth, its raining with no clouds in sunshine.
7.27.2006
- in the name of Allah -
How ironic is this:
"In its statement, Israel said it wants a U.N. resolution calling for Lebanese militias to be disarmed and a G8 statement calling for the release of all abducted soldiers.
'Israel is forced to continue to defend its citizens because of the failure to implement these resolutions until now,' the statement read." - http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/07/26/mideast.romeconf/index.html
SHALL IT BE NOTED HOW MANY RESOLUTIONS ISRAEL HAS IGNORED TO DATE? HOW MANY PEOPLE LOST THEIR LIVES BECAUSE ONE NATION OF SIX MILLION PEOPLE REFUSES TO CARE ABOUT OTHER HUMAN LIFE?
for fuks sake. there needs to be an end to the hypocrisy and bigotry thats so rampant in the land of the chosen ones.
How ironic is this:
"In its statement, Israel said it wants a U.N. resolution calling for Lebanese militias to be disarmed and a G8 statement calling for the release of all abducted soldiers.
'Israel is forced to continue to defend its citizens because of the failure to implement these resolutions until now,' the statement read." - http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/07/26/mideast.romeconf/index.html
SHALL IT BE NOTED HOW MANY RESOLUTIONS ISRAEL HAS IGNORED TO DATE? HOW MANY PEOPLE LOST THEIR LIVES BECAUSE ONE NATION OF SIX MILLION PEOPLE REFUSES TO CARE ABOUT OTHER HUMAN LIFE?
for fuks sake. there needs to be an end to the hypocrisy and bigotry thats so rampant in the land of the chosen ones.
- in the name of Allah -
Among some arcane recommendations on what good movies to watch, I went out on a limb or two and saw 'Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind'. Needless to say for those who know, the parallels are wow.
Alas, the quote of the movie:
"How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." - Alexander Pope
Some ringing echo in my mind's ear tells me that that isnt as obtuse as one might think. Some vestal indeed, some prayers too, but dunno if 'by the world forgot' really applies or not.
Allahu 'alim
But, dans la finis, "its ok"!
Among some arcane recommendations on what good movies to watch, I went out on a limb or two and saw 'Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind'. Needless to say for those who know, the parallels are wow.
Alas, the quote of the movie:
"How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." - Alexander Pope
Some ringing echo in my mind's ear tells me that that isnt as obtuse as one might think. Some vestal indeed, some prayers too, but dunno if 'by the world forgot' really applies or not.
Allahu 'alim
But, dans la finis, "its ok"!
7.25.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Read "the alchemist" by Paulo Coehlo in the wee hours of this morning. initially, I couldnt help but imagine what life would be or have been like if dreams were our guide in life. would that exclude the element of deen? Im not sure. anyhow, the thought occurs to me that I should have read this book about 4-5 years ago. It might have meant something back then. now, its only a reminder that one persons reality doesnt always equal anothers. in any case, its a good enough read to be read by anyone.
Read "the alchemist" by Paulo Coehlo in the wee hours of this morning. initially, I couldnt help but imagine what life would be or have been like if dreams were our guide in life. would that exclude the element of deen? Im not sure. anyhow, the thought occurs to me that I should have read this book about 4-5 years ago. It might have meant something back then. now, its only a reminder that one persons reality doesnt always equal anothers. in any case, its a good enough read to be read by anyone.
7.24.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Had some free time chillin at my bros house; the following was written:
What if I could make a necklace of words look like a necklace of pearls? Closing the eyes and opening the mind, thoughts trickle down and white light starts to divide. I chased the rainbow but some one already stole the pot of gold. So after this fruitless chase, was the vision a mirage or the scattered pieces of a broken vase? Antiques may have been antiquated, but can an idea fade so fast as if fate had never even made it? I dont believe the truth is a mist to be burned away by the sun but a sauna to try the soul against the very thing that can bring it undone. Though so long as theres air in my lungs and blood in my brain, Ill probably never stop writing for whats inside I cant contain in this life of mortal constraint
J'ai confuse aussi
Had some free time chillin at my bros house; the following was written:
What if I could make a necklace of words look like a necklace of pearls? Closing the eyes and opening the mind, thoughts trickle down and white light starts to divide. I chased the rainbow but some one already stole the pot of gold. So after this fruitless chase, was the vision a mirage or the scattered pieces of a broken vase? Antiques may have been antiquated, but can an idea fade so fast as if fate had never even made it? I dont believe the truth is a mist to be burned away by the sun but a sauna to try the soul against the very thing that can bring it undone. Though so long as theres air in my lungs and blood in my brain, Ill probably never stop writing for whats inside I cant contain in this life of mortal constraint
J'ai confuse aussi
7.22.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Today I learned that a tree is not always the best kind of stop sign. o_o
Some idiot driving a car decided to take a right turn while I happened to be going straight (enroute to jumu'ah, ironically enough). He ended up barely nicked. I got a few cuts and a decommisioned (for a few days or so) left hand. Alhamdulillah for sure, as it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Soon as I find a pic of my (dad's) lost car, should have it posted up.
My old faithful, alas, you meet your fate :(
Today I learned that a tree is not always the best kind of stop sign. o_o
Some idiot driving a car decided to take a right turn while I happened to be going straight (enroute to jumu'ah, ironically enough). He ended up barely nicked. I got a few cuts and a decommisioned (for a few days or so) left hand. Alhamdulillah for sure, as it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Soon as I find a pic of my (dad's) lost car, should have it posted up.
My old faithful, alas, you meet your fate :(
7.21.2006
- in the name of Allah -
After some mildly strenous bball, I resort to some poetics written a few days back. Im not totally sold on what it means, if anything, but if I had to guess I would say its another (measley) attempt at whats known as a "goodbye" or whatever the hell one is supposed to say in my position. In any case, it is what it is
-only words 7.20.06
If I could reach for the stars
and find out where you are
I'd pluck your name from Neptune's rings
and show you just how soon the raven sings
For if departure meant the same as to diverge
then to completion would be lost an inner scourge
But as with every mortal blight on earth
the pain has its limit, and as such can be no curse
If we agreed that it was in fact a blessing
then water morphs to wine, with rain as its dressing
Yesterday was but a moment's memory
engaged to innocence it was, but married to reality
This life, this time in which we live
isn't ours to own, but only ours to give
Its trials come as oft the wind may drift
but nonetheless bound to time, revealing what truly is
All in all, whence my words run out, my pens run dry
the sky becomes my lake, and my thoughts the fishing line
for if those stars could but once, spell a single name
My destiny to the Immortal being, might find its beauty sane
After some mildly strenous bball, I resort to some poetics written a few days back. Im not totally sold on what it means, if anything, but if I had to guess I would say its another (measley) attempt at whats known as a "goodbye" or whatever the hell one is supposed to say in my position. In any case, it is what it is
-only words 7.20.06
If I could reach for the stars
and find out where you are
I'd pluck your name from Neptune's rings
and show you just how soon the raven sings
For if departure meant the same as to diverge
then to completion would be lost an inner scourge
But as with every mortal blight on earth
the pain has its limit, and as such can be no curse
If we agreed that it was in fact a blessing
then water morphs to wine, with rain as its dressing
Yesterday was but a moment's memory
engaged to innocence it was, but married to reality
This life, this time in which we live
isn't ours to own, but only ours to give
Its trials come as oft the wind may drift
but nonetheless bound to time, revealing what truly is
All in all, whence my words run out, my pens run dry
the sky becomes my lake, and my thoughts the fishing line
for if those stars could but once, spell a single name
My destiny to the Immortal being, might find its beauty sane
7.20.2006
7.18.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Who could have ever thunk it? Lately, bec of a chance encouter with some smallville episode, Ive been checking out Paul Schwartz and his New Age/Classical tracks. I dunno if theres anything more peaceful than that, excpt the Qur'an ofc.
Making a link here to music tracks is taking me too long..will post once Ive learned what it is Im doing
Who could have ever thunk it? Lately, bec of a chance encouter with some smallville episode, Ive been checking out Paul Schwartz and his New Age/Classical tracks. I dunno if theres anything more peaceful than that, excpt the Qur'an ofc.
Making a link here to music tracks is taking me too long..will post once Ive learned what it is Im doing
7.14.2006
- in the name of Allah -
if a friend was a friend even when the seasons took a turn for the worst, it might just be able to accommodate all the past with all its hurt. sometimes blessings travel overseas and you never know what you have until its something you can no longer see; becoming shoulder posts for leaning, easing the blows until the torniquet of belief can stop the bleeding. imagine that, another thing for which to be grateful, another drop of solace in an ocean of dried hearts and withered souls. when words dont come and the air is still with no molecular oscillations, the truth seems to surface even though all around one finds isolation. its as if raindrops were falling amidst a drought, people running around looking for a water-filled pouch, while sustenance falls from the sky of their apparent doubt. and while they stumble in confusion and haste, i simply stand and recognize the moment that was orchestrated by fate. i may never need a face-to-face, or anything more than reminders of sunnah people forgot over the ages, but i can still appreciate the connection and bond thats made when expectancy isnt a burden or a game of cards involving future stakes. theres a serene bellow of wind that gusts on the mindscape, refreshing the trees planted there and leaving nothing but peace in its wake. and i laugh because ive been foolish and naive before, thinking that just because something was wanted would make that a reason for it to be delivered to the front of my door. but whats been found isnt a thing to buy or even look for, its a purposeful accident of meetings, chance acquaintences becoming into friendship borne of open honesty and destiny's greeting. so what? so life's choir starts another tune and blindfolded actors play their parts while searching for the ending in a dune of sand.
if a friend was a friend even when the seasons took a turn for the worst, it might just be able to accommodate all the past with all its hurt. sometimes blessings travel overseas and you never know what you have until its something you can no longer see; becoming shoulder posts for leaning, easing the blows until the torniquet of belief can stop the bleeding. imagine that, another thing for which to be grateful, another drop of solace in an ocean of dried hearts and withered souls. when words dont come and the air is still with no molecular oscillations, the truth seems to surface even though all around one finds isolation. its as if raindrops were falling amidst a drought, people running around looking for a water-filled pouch, while sustenance falls from the sky of their apparent doubt. and while they stumble in confusion and haste, i simply stand and recognize the moment that was orchestrated by fate. i may never need a face-to-face, or anything more than reminders of sunnah people forgot over the ages, but i can still appreciate the connection and bond thats made when expectancy isnt a burden or a game of cards involving future stakes. theres a serene bellow of wind that gusts on the mindscape, refreshing the trees planted there and leaving nothing but peace in its wake. and i laugh because ive been foolish and naive before, thinking that just because something was wanted would make that a reason for it to be delivered to the front of my door. but whats been found isnt a thing to buy or even look for, its a purposeful accident of meetings, chance acquaintences becoming into friendship borne of open honesty and destiny's greeting. so what? so life's choir starts another tune and blindfolded actors play their parts while searching for the ending in a dune of sand.
7.13.2006
- in the name of Allah -
So I embarked upon something with less than perfect intentions, but lo' and behold, before it could happen I heard the Qur'an. If there's anything in the world that can cure a weakening heart, that is it. Alhamdulillah. Sometimes I wonder just how petty we human beings can be in our desires and thoughts. May Allah forgive me, and my brothers and sisters of the deen, ameen.
I've wondered, among other things, what should be the force of stimulus that brings one person into one's life. Should it be for selfish reasons, or to benefit the other? I think the only conclusion and basis of judgment can be the truth. Deep down, its often possible to discern if true benefit, i.e in both this life and the next, would be attainable according to any given intention. With part of that understanding, I've rescinded what was probably a no-win situation on one hand, to reaffirm the possibilities of truth in another.
One more realization, that wherever I find a trace of truth or a trace of Allah, I will no longer create impediments in my own path, no more doubts, no more walls between what is good for me and what it is I seek. Ameen
So I embarked upon something with less than perfect intentions, but lo' and behold, before it could happen I heard the Qur'an. If there's anything in the world that can cure a weakening heart, that is it. Alhamdulillah. Sometimes I wonder just how petty we human beings can be in our desires and thoughts. May Allah forgive me, and my brothers and sisters of the deen, ameen.
I've wondered, among other things, what should be the force of stimulus that brings one person into one's life. Should it be for selfish reasons, or to benefit the other? I think the only conclusion and basis of judgment can be the truth. Deep down, its often possible to discern if true benefit, i.e in both this life and the next, would be attainable according to any given intention. With part of that understanding, I've rescinded what was probably a no-win situation on one hand, to reaffirm the possibilities of truth in another.
One more realization, that wherever I find a trace of truth or a trace of Allah, I will no longer create impediments in my own path, no more doubts, no more walls between what is good for me and what it is I seek. Ameen
- in the name of Allah -
Deathbed of a poet
solemn and silent, the wind blows away the leaves and soil, finding in its path a fading vision no longer defiant. theres no struggle, no need to desist, the bodys decayed and the souls in a place of no peace, a place without rest. inanimate imaginings can walk through walls but cant see past the tips of their fingers, right where the blame would fall if they stopped to look only inside. theres quite a bit of longing for the greater and unbound, unfortunately the time for it isnt now and so it becomes an enemy in disguise as a friend or spy. thinking is an abyss for those who carry its torch to the farthest and most dimly lit part of its cave, anyone who goes in just might need another to reach closer and pull them back if they dare to try and save. stop and go, you never know when life's light turns green or red, never know when its finally all done and said until the covers laid over the head and over the eyes, shutting out the questions and ignoring the lies, fates finally been found- a concrete slab of a poet's deathbed.
Deathbed of a poet
solemn and silent, the wind blows away the leaves and soil, finding in its path a fading vision no longer defiant. theres no struggle, no need to desist, the bodys decayed and the souls in a place of no peace, a place without rest. inanimate imaginings can walk through walls but cant see past the tips of their fingers, right where the blame would fall if they stopped to look only inside. theres quite a bit of longing for the greater and unbound, unfortunately the time for it isnt now and so it becomes an enemy in disguise as a friend or spy. thinking is an abyss for those who carry its torch to the farthest and most dimly lit part of its cave, anyone who goes in just might need another to reach closer and pull them back if they dare to try and save. stop and go, you never know when life's light turns green or red, never know when its finally all done and said until the covers laid over the head and over the eyes, shutting out the questions and ignoring the lies, fates finally been found- a concrete slab of a poet's deathbed.
7.12.2006
- in the name of Allah -
(that masterpiece)
sometimes the soul is a sheet of music, either compressed or composed, finding outlet in rhythms and sounds when no other place seems to offer any repose. if we'd agree that life was cyclic, then how is it broken? can it only be through death or is change able to be little more than a metastizing token? some of my words float and fly while others sink and die, it doesn't mean their message is ever different, only that the medium they're received in seems to be from me independant. I've tasted a bit of what it's like to be free, to soar with the wings of birds and be bound by nothing but the aim of things. there is a test today and another tomorrow, each and every exam with a scantron of choices to see if we invest our fortune of time or live off of what we borrow. the pieces and parts inside have often lamented how fate appears as a final albeit divine intervention, sending x diverging from y, when the axis of life we thought was only in two dimensions. it turns out that I or we were wrong and what was perceived to be the course of budding history, was but a trial among trials to determine where we stand precisely. I won't be the fish with deception's light in the deepest depths of the ocean, every time I see faint glimmers lured its both a breath of life and a hellish roar of anguish. so, I recede my worthless currency from investing in you, from taking potential away and making a decisive divide between us two. there's a time when what we want is no longer what's best to be had, no longer the innocence of hope once nourished in the bosom of adolescence. therefore and thereby, every right you've been granted should be a right you exercise. enough is enough when the skin I developed wasn't quite thick enough for this. if from truth eventually follows peace, it's the reward of foregoing ourselves from dried bits of yesterday's destiny.
(that masterpiece)
sometimes the soul is a sheet of music, either compressed or composed, finding outlet in rhythms and sounds when no other place seems to offer any repose. if we'd agree that life was cyclic, then how is it broken? can it only be through death or is change able to be little more than a metastizing token? some of my words float and fly while others sink and die, it doesn't mean their message is ever different, only that the medium they're received in seems to be from me independant. I've tasted a bit of what it's like to be free, to soar with the wings of birds and be bound by nothing but the aim of things. there is a test today and another tomorrow, each and every exam with a scantron of choices to see if we invest our fortune of time or live off of what we borrow. the pieces and parts inside have often lamented how fate appears as a final albeit divine intervention, sending x diverging from y, when the axis of life we thought was only in two dimensions. it turns out that I or we were wrong and what was perceived to be the course of budding history, was but a trial among trials to determine where we stand precisely. I won't be the fish with deception's light in the deepest depths of the ocean, every time I see faint glimmers lured its both a breath of life and a hellish roar of anguish. so, I recede my worthless currency from investing in you, from taking potential away and making a decisive divide between us two. there's a time when what we want is no longer what's best to be had, no longer the innocence of hope once nourished in the bosom of adolescence. therefore and thereby, every right you've been granted should be a right you exercise. enough is enough when the skin I developed wasn't quite thick enough for this. if from truth eventually follows peace, it's the reward of foregoing ourselves from dried bits of yesterday's destiny.
7.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Modest Mouse - Float On Lyrics
I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well he just drove off sometimes life's ok
I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what can i say
Well you just laughed it off it was all ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on any way well
Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with a scam
It was worth it just to learn some sleight-of-hand
Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans
We both got fired on the exactly the same day
Well we'll float on good news is on the way
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on alright
Already we'll all float on
Now don't worry we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Alright don't worry we'll all float on
And we'll all float on alright
Already we'll all float on
Aliright don't worry even if things end up a bit to heavy
we'll all float on alright
Already we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Ok don't worry we'll all float on
Even if things get heavy we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Don't you worry we'll all float on
All float on
Modest Mouse - Float On Lyrics
I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well he just drove off sometimes life's ok
I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what can i say
Well you just laughed it off it was all ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on any way well
Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with a scam
It was worth it just to learn some sleight-of-hand
Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans
We both got fired on the exactly the same day
Well we'll float on good news is on the way
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on ok
And we'll all float on alright
Already we'll all float on
Now don't worry we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Alright don't worry we'll all float on
And we'll all float on alright
Already we'll all float on
Aliright don't worry even if things end up a bit to heavy
we'll all float on alright
Already we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Ok don't worry we'll all float on
Even if things get heavy we'll all float on
Alright already we'll all float on
Don't you worry we'll all float on
All float on
7.10.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Although I'm posting sooner than anticipated, for some reason I don't think it would be any less fitting..
Choices
choice is a blade that cuts and divides, truth from falsehood and falsity from lies. choice is a glue that binds hearts and minds, even when insanity is welcome and no one cares for time. choice is a rope that chokes and saves both kings and slaves, no preference to either but for all an abyss of consequence. to make a choice is to choose a side, a side colored in black or white but with plenty of grey striped for occasions ripe. it's not an apple or a tree, but two neurons interclicking and clacking, finding a way to release the fruits of a cortex bound in a hurricane of 'either-or' gifts in wrapping. no stockings no trees, no stars on the tips of branches, no evergreen leaves. no pumpkins no candles, no costumes no hiding beneath mantles. there's no season needed, no precip to fall, thats required for a choice to be made for in any weather it conspires to stall. here you'll find no theory of conspiracy however, the time is short and pivotal moments approach with apathy for a time or despite forever. still choice remains like a floating fire forever aflight, lit deep inside the soul, able to make warm in december or throw blizzard on top of the cold.
Although I'm posting sooner than anticipated, for some reason I don't think it would be any less fitting..
Choices
choice is a blade that cuts and divides, truth from falsehood and falsity from lies. choice is a glue that binds hearts and minds, even when insanity is welcome and no one cares for time. choice is a rope that chokes and saves both kings and slaves, no preference to either but for all an abyss of consequence. to make a choice is to choose a side, a side colored in black or white but with plenty of grey striped for occasions ripe. it's not an apple or a tree, but two neurons interclicking and clacking, finding a way to release the fruits of a cortex bound in a hurricane of 'either-or' gifts in wrapping. no stockings no trees, no stars on the tips of branches, no evergreen leaves. no pumpkins no candles, no costumes no hiding beneath mantles. there's no season needed, no precip to fall, thats required for a choice to be made for in any weather it conspires to stall. here you'll find no theory of conspiracy however, the time is short and pivotal moments approach with apathy for a time or despite forever. still choice remains like a floating fire forever aflight, lit deep inside the soul, able to make warm in december or throw blizzard on top of the cold.
- in the name of Allah -
SubhanAllah. Just got back from Niagara Falls some hours ago, and what an experience it was. Unusually enough, I had a difficult time actually appreciating the natural beauty that was everywhere since the mind kept wandering. Nonetheless, the fact that I couldn't fully appreciate it didn't take away from the whole thing in any way. Should be posting up some pics soon iA.
As for the major events preceding the trip, at least for those who know me well enough lol, I had removed all the games I played on my pc. That was one step in what I foresee as continued development of the self and perhaps a bit farther away from the isolationist scene to which I've previously been inexorably linked. As for the events during the trip, I actually dipped into the indoor heated pool at the hotel we stayed at. Being the first time ever I've tried swimming, it was more fun figuring out how the heck to try and stay afloat, but alh seems like a beginning to certainly build off of. I was reading a bit of T.H. White's "The Once and Future King" (yep, same book as the one seen in x3), and I came across a passage that was particularly resonating. The character in the book, Merlyn, described swimming as akin to flying. And whaddaya know, he was right. So, the first step before I can (inshAllah) fly in jannah, is swimming, and if that turns out to be half or even a tenth of the experience flying promises to be, then indeed, the wait was well worth it.
All throughout the trip, I kept remembering people, for some odd reason or other. Some very unique and perhaps illogical ideas occurred to me too, but then such seems to be the case when the subconscious is inherently pensive. Any how, I checked out the two playlists and they seemed pretty cool, though admittedly not entirely my kind of flavor. Some more good ideas are always welcome.
Anything else I think should go here can probably wait till a good night's sleep, so iA.
ma'asalaam
SubhanAllah. Just got back from Niagara Falls some hours ago, and what an experience it was. Unusually enough, I had a difficult time actually appreciating the natural beauty that was everywhere since the mind kept wandering. Nonetheless, the fact that I couldn't fully appreciate it didn't take away from the whole thing in any way. Should be posting up some pics soon iA.
As for the major events preceding the trip, at least for those who know me well enough lol, I had removed all the games I played on my pc. That was one step in what I foresee as continued development of the self and perhaps a bit farther away from the isolationist scene to which I've previously been inexorably linked. As for the events during the trip, I actually dipped into the indoor heated pool at the hotel we stayed at. Being the first time ever I've tried swimming, it was more fun figuring out how the heck to try and stay afloat, but alh seems like a beginning to certainly build off of. I was reading a bit of T.H. White's "The Once and Future King" (yep, same book as the one seen in x3), and I came across a passage that was particularly resonating. The character in the book, Merlyn, described swimming as akin to flying. And whaddaya know, he was right. So, the first step before I can (inshAllah) fly in jannah, is swimming, and if that turns out to be half or even a tenth of the experience flying promises to be, then indeed, the wait was well worth it.
All throughout the trip, I kept remembering people, for some odd reason or other. Some very unique and perhaps illogical ideas occurred to me too, but then such seems to be the case when the subconscious is inherently pensive. Any how, I checked out the two playlists and they seemed pretty cool, though admittedly not entirely my kind of flavor. Some more good ideas are always welcome.
Anything else I think should go here can probably wait till a good night's sleep, so iA.
ma'asalaam
7.07.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Alhamdulillah for new days and short term memory. Sometimes, its the only key one has to survival. Anyhow, on to more important news. Tonight, I should be heading off with family to Niagara Falls. iA, should be a heck of an experience.
Meanwhile, the playlist recommendations are going pretty well; of course, whoever has any more ideas (songs) need only drop a line. If I can make it to Pirates of the Carribean (sp?) this afternoon, that'd be the best scenario, but I dunno exactly how much needs to be packed so we'll see iA. Jumu'ah time approaches, and my new lease on life says I need to go, so ma'asalaam
Alhamdulillah for new days and short term memory. Sometimes, its the only key one has to survival. Anyhow, on to more important news. Tonight, I should be heading off with family to Niagara Falls. iA, should be a heck of an experience.
Meanwhile, the playlist recommendations are going pretty well; of course, whoever has any more ideas (songs) need only drop a line. If I can make it to Pirates of the Carribean (sp?) this afternoon, that'd be the best scenario, but I dunno exactly how much needs to be packed so we'll see iA. Jumu'ah time approaches, and my new lease on life says I need to go, so ma'asalaam
7.06.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Peace is a treasured blessing only oblivious to those who don't pay enough attention to find it in life. Alhamdulillah, things are moving along pretty well. The summer session of Anatomie and Physiologie II should be over in less than a month, and iA then starts the program this fall. Among other interesting things, it seems I have a(nother) stalker..lol...Allah help us all, ameen.
Peace is a treasured blessing only oblivious to those who don't pay enough attention to find it in life. Alhamdulillah, things are moving along pretty well. The summer session of Anatomie and Physiologie II should be over in less than a month, and iA then starts the program this fall. Among other interesting things, it seems I have a(nother) stalker..lol...Allah help us all, ameen.
7.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Alas, life never ceases to surprise. Alhamdulillah though, some things are easier to weather than others. Take, for instance, someone calling me with the caller ID blocked and then refusing to speak on the other line. Like, what kind of a conversation is it when it's entirely one sided?? Not to say I can't use my imagination, or attribute more to it than meets the eye, but whatever it is it's still trifling. In other news, caught up with an old friend who should be coming up to MD this week iA. It's gonna be a kodak moment seeing how he fits back in the masjid scene, if only for a minute.
Meanwhile, I'm on the second season of Smallville (DVD's). It's progressing quite nicely, and of course it has its moments of utter geeky-cheesiness and unsufferable sentimentality, but all in all it's a series worth seeing if only for how it all unfolds.
In other news, I'm compiling a list of good songs to make a playlist out of and I need help. I was able to pick out SR-71's Tomorrow out of what I was watching, but I need more input. Leave all suggestions as comments please, thanks. It's interesting though, how my "taste" in music seems to be evolving. Things liked yesterday don't seem to be appreciated today. No doubt the endless march of life to the tune of change, but intriguing to see how the self evolves nonetheless.
A random poetic..
If I close my eyes and could see ahead of time, would I tip the scales and favor the smaller fish over the bigger whales? or would I doubtless become just another bottom dweller in the ocean of possibility, searching my way amidst the depth of great pressure and no visibility. I can't foresee ahead not even the steps my feet take in walking, for it might come to pass I die and fall to the ground though what's ahead of me hasn't stopped harking. If death is the end of all desires, why should we live for them? Don't the things that mean more and most than those deserve the time and space that our being composes? It's easy as slicing butter to take our piece of the pie, but when it's time for our neighbor to die, there's not a tear shed, not even a whiff of concern; wonder why? If our own lives were guaranteed saftey while those closest were to live in peril, could we accept this and leave another's hopes as a needle of chance made sterile? I've found in these last few days, perhaps more than any moment prior, it's hard not to love or care especially of a period dire.
and so, what have we in this physical existence but each other's hands to hold and shoulders to clasp, hearts to make firm, dreams to make last?
Alas, life never ceases to surprise. Alhamdulillah though, some things are easier to weather than others. Take, for instance, someone calling me with the caller ID blocked and then refusing to speak on the other line. Like, what kind of a conversation is it when it's entirely one sided?? Not to say I can't use my imagination, or attribute more to it than meets the eye, but whatever it is it's still trifling. In other news, caught up with an old friend who should be coming up to MD this week iA. It's gonna be a kodak moment seeing how he fits back in the masjid scene, if only for a minute.
Meanwhile, I'm on the second season of Smallville (DVD's). It's progressing quite nicely, and of course it has its moments of utter geeky-cheesiness and unsufferable sentimentality, but all in all it's a series worth seeing if only for how it all unfolds.
In other news, I'm compiling a list of good songs to make a playlist out of and I need help. I was able to pick out SR-71's Tomorrow out of what I was watching, but I need more input. Leave all suggestions as comments please, thanks. It's interesting though, how my "taste" in music seems to be evolving. Things liked yesterday don't seem to be appreciated today. No doubt the endless march of life to the tune of change, but intriguing to see how the self evolves nonetheless.
A random poetic..
If I close my eyes and could see ahead of time, would I tip the scales and favor the smaller fish over the bigger whales? or would I doubtless become just another bottom dweller in the ocean of possibility, searching my way amidst the depth of great pressure and no visibility. I can't foresee ahead not even the steps my feet take in walking, for it might come to pass I die and fall to the ground though what's ahead of me hasn't stopped harking. If death is the end of all desires, why should we live for them? Don't the things that mean more and most than those deserve the time and space that our being composes? It's easy as slicing butter to take our piece of the pie, but when it's time for our neighbor to die, there's not a tear shed, not even a whiff of concern; wonder why? If our own lives were guaranteed saftey while those closest were to live in peril, could we accept this and leave another's hopes as a needle of chance made sterile? I've found in these last few days, perhaps more than any moment prior, it's hard not to love or care especially of a period dire.
and so, what have we in this physical existence but each other's hands to hold and shoulders to clasp, hearts to make firm, dreams to make last?
7.03.2006
- in the name of Allah -
It's ironic how someone can feel like they're three times their age, but when it comes to the knowledge and experience of feeling that way, they have no answer. Basically, it's a hassle not knowing and not experiencing a lifetime's worth this very second. Sometimes you're surprised at some things, and they happen to be not so bad. It still is so messed up how rebellious I feel towards fate in the smallest of ways. Take, for example, the unhidden irony in the fact that production of gastric lipase (an enzyme present in the stomach that breaks down fat) is at its highest in adolescence but declines significantly in adulthood- is it just me (ha ha) or do we tend to need it MOST as adults, but yet our biological systems appear designed as if to simply accomodate more and more lipids (fats), no matter the consequence to our health..THAT is irony if I ever knew it. So you see, it's not only the big things that provoke one's sense of right and wrong and throw them to the wind, it gets down to very building blocks of our physical existence, and how yet we must fight and struggle against even our own selves down to the molecular level! I can't presume to know what only Allah knows, but it's damned obvious just how much of a test this life is. It makes things so much more interesting.
It's ironic how someone can feel like they're three times their age, but when it comes to the knowledge and experience of feeling that way, they have no answer. Basically, it's a hassle not knowing and not experiencing a lifetime's worth this very second. Sometimes you're surprised at some things, and they happen to be not so bad. It still is so messed up how rebellious I feel towards fate in the smallest of ways. Take, for example, the unhidden irony in the fact that production of gastric lipase (an enzyme present in the stomach that breaks down fat) is at its highest in adolescence but declines significantly in adulthood- is it just me (ha ha) or do we tend to need it MOST as adults, but yet our biological systems appear designed as if to simply accomodate more and more lipids (fats), no matter the consequence to our health..THAT is irony if I ever knew it. So you see, it's not only the big things that provoke one's sense of right and wrong and throw them to the wind, it gets down to very building blocks of our physical existence, and how yet we must fight and struggle against even our own selves down to the molecular level! I can't presume to know what only Allah knows, but it's damned obvious just how much of a test this life is. It makes things so much more interesting.
7.02.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I'm still human.
Fuck the cylces and the motors, just take me to a time when all the rollercoasting's over. A day passes and a sun rises then it sets and gradually the moon sows all the seeds of inability's regrets. I stay a path it seems only so long that I know how much it is what I really need, only to have my weakness peek around the corner and give trifling hopes a stake in the heart, burying pieces and parts in a tomb of finity's gloom. Where's consistency's shoulder when its my effort that falling cold, flat and impenetrable, like the bones and will of a war vet grown old. What if I was fated to die in a moment of forgetting, what'd become of all the things I planted but a Great Wall of Shortcomings? Right now its suffocating to be human, to be always breathing and choking in an asthmatic sea of self-made burden. Two seconds I'm free and above, then three hours I'm encaged and below, this is the test of life's little truffles every wise man intimately comes to know. To pass or fail, is there a choice in it of mine? Easily I would say I should pass, but then I see a mirror and it occurs to me the only way to find out is if I can last.
I'm still human.
Fuck the cylces and the motors, just take me to a time when all the rollercoasting's over. A day passes and a sun rises then it sets and gradually the moon sows all the seeds of inability's regrets. I stay a path it seems only so long that I know how much it is what I really need, only to have my weakness peek around the corner and give trifling hopes a stake in the heart, burying pieces and parts in a tomb of finity's gloom. Where's consistency's shoulder when its my effort that falling cold, flat and impenetrable, like the bones and will of a war vet grown old. What if I was fated to die in a moment of forgetting, what'd become of all the things I planted but a Great Wall of Shortcomings? Right now its suffocating to be human, to be always breathing and choking in an asthmatic sea of self-made burden. Two seconds I'm free and above, then three hours I'm encaged and below, this is the test of life's little truffles every wise man intimately comes to know. To pass or fail, is there a choice in it of mine? Easily I would say I should pass, but then I see a mirror and it occurs to me the only way to find out is if I can last.
7.01.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Alhamdulillah, another day I'm alive. Life is truly precious when you think how easy it is to lose someone you love, especially a family member. I was thinking about how I would feel if my someone in my family died, how devastating it would be. And imagine, how one can care again when once it seemed like apathy would rule the day. Alhamdulillah for that too. Few minutes ago, I wondered whether it was better to not care and as a result not experience loss or to care and be subject to it every second of every day- I think the choice is clear: to care is better even though in doing so we may find sadness. The rationale would be that those who risk the least gain just as much, whereas those who risk the most tend to gain the same. Of course, the greatest "risk" in this life seems to be to believe in something we can't see. Science would have one believe that that's impossible, but it wouldn't be the first time it's been wrong and proven to be so.
Getting back to whatever topic it was I intended to start with, life is a journey. You can't expect to do it all in one day, or know exactly where your next pit stop is going to be. The thing that makes all the difference in the world, the thing that balances destiny and free will is choice, the only thing we control. We may not be able to understand the scope of the decisions we make, making it all the more important that we make positive choices with discretion towards moderation and due process. There's no end that is without its beginning, so if we never try we will never attain. It is by a first step that a marathon or a sprint is run, and it is by a first brick which gradually builds the skyscaper. I spoke with a friend today and we discussed some things I learned from my experiences, lessons noteworthy enough to mention.
1. online communication isn't the best
2. attachment can be dangerous
3. sometimes people don't mean what they say and say what they don't mean
4. the female gender can be quite complex
5. in the end, all you have is faith
For various reasons, these are part of the culmination of wisdom from experiences many years in the making. Asking why regarding these isn't as important, as the eventual acceptance and internalization that result. To find the path, in spite of the thorns encountered on the way, is better than to have wandered forever though never meeting a thorn and never being able to savor even the smallest victory.
Another interesting aspect of the conversation was the discussion of how a male-female friendship could be qualified within the bounds of Islam while still being beneficial for both parties involved. Previously it was my conviction that such a thing was impossible, that any such kind of communication would irrevocably lead to something more. Now, my perspective has changed. Partially, the reason is having experienced two major periods in life where I had a friendship and attempted to make it into something more and it didn't work out either time. So, experience says that attempting or forcing a relationship in a deeper direction can easily backfire. So how can it be easier or possible for the relationship to remain a friendship and nothing more? The answer is fairly simple; Islam should be the means and purpose by which we are bound to each other, and if it is the case, then as protectors, brothers and sisters to one another, mutual support is a key facet of our existence. What is a lone individual but precisely that, a lone individual? One supported and advised, accompanied and consoled, is surely able to go farther than one without such friendships in place. All of this is only relevant and considered with respect to full honesty with one's self and others. Dishonesty or ill intention are seeds of regret waiting to be planted in those hearts who seek where they should not find. Even so, the balance of human nature and human responsibility in any scenario can be achieved only, as far as I know, through consistent openness and awareness of the self and of Allah. We can and may falter, but the point is not in having fallen, it is in rising again.
Alhamdulillah, another day I'm alive. Life is truly precious when you think how easy it is to lose someone you love, especially a family member. I was thinking about how I would feel if my someone in my family died, how devastating it would be. And imagine, how one can care again when once it seemed like apathy would rule the day. Alhamdulillah for that too. Few minutes ago, I wondered whether it was better to not care and as a result not experience loss or to care and be subject to it every second of every day- I think the choice is clear: to care is better even though in doing so we may find sadness. The rationale would be that those who risk the least gain just as much, whereas those who risk the most tend to gain the same. Of course, the greatest "risk" in this life seems to be to believe in something we can't see. Science would have one believe that that's impossible, but it wouldn't be the first time it's been wrong and proven to be so.
Getting back to whatever topic it was I intended to start with, life is a journey. You can't expect to do it all in one day, or know exactly where your next pit stop is going to be. The thing that makes all the difference in the world, the thing that balances destiny and free will is choice, the only thing we control. We may not be able to understand the scope of the decisions we make, making it all the more important that we make positive choices with discretion towards moderation and due process. There's no end that is without its beginning, so if we never try we will never attain. It is by a first step that a marathon or a sprint is run, and it is by a first brick which gradually builds the skyscaper. I spoke with a friend today and we discussed some things I learned from my experiences, lessons noteworthy enough to mention.
1. online communication isn't the best
2. attachment can be dangerous
3. sometimes people don't mean what they say and say what they don't mean
4. the female gender can be quite complex
5. in the end, all you have is faith
For various reasons, these are part of the culmination of wisdom from experiences many years in the making. Asking why regarding these isn't as important, as the eventual acceptance and internalization that result. To find the path, in spite of the thorns encountered on the way, is better than to have wandered forever though never meeting a thorn and never being able to savor even the smallest victory.
Another interesting aspect of the conversation was the discussion of how a male-female friendship could be qualified within the bounds of Islam while still being beneficial for both parties involved. Previously it was my conviction that such a thing was impossible, that any such kind of communication would irrevocably lead to something more. Now, my perspective has changed. Partially, the reason is having experienced two major periods in life where I had a friendship and attempted to make it into something more and it didn't work out either time. So, experience says that attempting or forcing a relationship in a deeper direction can easily backfire. So how can it be easier or possible for the relationship to remain a friendship and nothing more? The answer is fairly simple; Islam should be the means and purpose by which we are bound to each other, and if it is the case, then as protectors, brothers and sisters to one another, mutual support is a key facet of our existence. What is a lone individual but precisely that, a lone individual? One supported and advised, accompanied and consoled, is surely able to go farther than one without such friendships in place. All of this is only relevant and considered with respect to full honesty with one's self and others. Dishonesty or ill intention are seeds of regret waiting to be planted in those hearts who seek where they should not find. Even so, the balance of human nature and human responsibility in any scenario can be achieved only, as far as I know, through consistent openness and awareness of the self and of Allah. We can and may falter, but the point is not in having fallen, it is in rising again.
6.26.2006
- in the name of Allah -
"To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour." -William Blake
I believe one singular moment of peace and tranquility is worth a thousand painful pricks. If only one such moment is found, and can be recollected in times of distress, who's to say the world and all its trifles become nothing more than a speck on the window of happiness?
What is perhaps more revealing, is the hadith of the Prophet (saw) in which it is said that whatever is good that befalls a person is because of Allah, and whatever is bad that befalls a person is because of his own doing. What truer statement can their be? Nay, what other statement can make so much sense? If any athiest used convential logic about the role of God (Allah) versus the role of man, and how one should play a role in the existence of the other, then this hadith alone would be enough to quell any misgivings. Allah has been assumed by many former people of the book (Jews and Christians) to be all-Good and it is wondered as to why evil could occur in the world if the postulated creator of the world was inherently and entirely "Good". Analyzing the hadith in this context, one sees that whatever good is found or expressed anywhere is as a result of Allah's will, whereas whatever evil and wrong is found or expressed anywhere is as a result of people following their own desires. Those who wish to reap need only look to what they sow to know what eternity has in store.
On a similar note, alhamdulillah. There are many amongst friends who are facing strenuous situations in life; may Allah make the burden easier on them all, ameen. As for myself, may Allah make the deen easy for my heart to accept and my mind to enact, ameen.
"To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour." -William Blake
I believe one singular moment of peace and tranquility is worth a thousand painful pricks. If only one such moment is found, and can be recollected in times of distress, who's to say the world and all its trifles become nothing more than a speck on the window of happiness?
What is perhaps more revealing, is the hadith of the Prophet (saw) in which it is said that whatever is good that befalls a person is because of Allah, and whatever is bad that befalls a person is because of his own doing. What truer statement can their be? Nay, what other statement can make so much sense? If any athiest used convential logic about the role of God (Allah) versus the role of man, and how one should play a role in the existence of the other, then this hadith alone would be enough to quell any misgivings. Allah has been assumed by many former people of the book (Jews and Christians) to be all-Good and it is wondered as to why evil could occur in the world if the postulated creator of the world was inherently and entirely "Good". Analyzing the hadith in this context, one sees that whatever good is found or expressed anywhere is as a result of Allah's will, whereas whatever evil and wrong is found or expressed anywhere is as a result of people following their own desires. Those who wish to reap need only look to what they sow to know what eternity has in store.
On a similar note, alhamdulillah. There are many amongst friends who are facing strenuous situations in life; may Allah make the burden easier on them all, ameen. As for myself, may Allah make the deen easy for my heart to accept and my mind to enact, ameen.
6.23.2006
-in the name of Allah-
Alhamdulillah
some things you ask for and don't recieve, others you don't ask for and do recieve. and yet, in both cases, there is always a greater, divine wisdom. for this guiding aspect of fate and its holder, i am grateful
so i'm no longer in the market for hearts, no more looking for wholes but i'll take spare parts wherever i find them, becoming complete or helping along other wayfarers' destiny. life is nothing i or someone else hasn't already said it is, so whats there left to say, what words could bring us closer to truth than our own experience? indeed
but experience is but one facet and for those who lack, there's the complement of wisdom's visor and understanding's bootstrap. sometimes you let yourself and those you know take the roads that are theirs, even if it means parting in this lifetime and facing your fears. i can't acquiesce just yet, there's too much blood in my veins and too much of my soul with a purpose momentarily blind but whose sight it seems can never (iA) be stolen. in accepting what's been decreed, i don't forego the past i've seen or the possibilities of a tomorrow not yet breathed, i simply acknowledge my role and place in time, a trifle's trace that cannot be erased but in open heart and mind certainly embraced. every now and then may be laced with memory's poison or pen, but let it be noted that ink does'nt last, dis-ease is a token of this life for as long as we live in the hourglass. what's gone is gone and for now may never be, but let what might and may be take its hold and lead us to eternal serenity
it's only for a chance that we're alive; maybe, just maybe, this one chance is all we need, inshAllah
Alhamdulillah
some things you ask for and don't recieve, others you don't ask for and do recieve. and yet, in both cases, there is always a greater, divine wisdom. for this guiding aspect of fate and its holder, i am grateful
so i'm no longer in the market for hearts, no more looking for wholes but i'll take spare parts wherever i find them, becoming complete or helping along other wayfarers' destiny. life is nothing i or someone else hasn't already said it is, so whats there left to say, what words could bring us closer to truth than our own experience? indeed
but experience is but one facet and for those who lack, there's the complement of wisdom's visor and understanding's bootstrap. sometimes you let yourself and those you know take the roads that are theirs, even if it means parting in this lifetime and facing your fears. i can't acquiesce just yet, there's too much blood in my veins and too much of my soul with a purpose momentarily blind but whose sight it seems can never (iA) be stolen. in accepting what's been decreed, i don't forego the past i've seen or the possibilities of a tomorrow not yet breathed, i simply acknowledge my role and place in time, a trifle's trace that cannot be erased but in open heart and mind certainly embraced. every now and then may be laced with memory's poison or pen, but let it be noted that ink does'nt last, dis-ease is a token of this life for as long as we live in the hourglass. what's gone is gone and for now may never be, but let what might and may be take its hold and lead us to eternal serenity
it's only for a chance that we're alive; maybe, just maybe, this one chance is all we need, inshAllah
6.19.2006
-in the name of Allah-
It hasn't been as easy a road as I thought it would be. Time and time again, I find myself being away from all the things and people and places I used to know in life. Why is this so, why do I seem to run away, to avoid the subtle hints of the past? There's no more sanctuary left for me, that once used to be. It's raining outside, alh a little cooler now. Feels good for the soul.
Not two weeks ago, I thought it was all over in my mind; imagined I'd moved past all the ghosts of the past that haunted me...but that wasn't the case. They're still there. Slowly, I battle them for control of my soul, for a firmer grip on giving a damn instead of letting fate disintegrate plans into thin air. There's much I've wanted to say, but others have told me to do so would be unwise and purposeless. They are right. So, I will not. The remnants of years will remain as shards for my mind, until I can manage to construct another glass house. I would make it of stone, but stone doesn't let one see like glass and it opposes me in many subtle ways. Still, if Allah wills, a house of glass can survive a hurricane, so not all is or could be lost. I retain proofs of pains past, small evidences that convince me I wasn't entirely caught by insanity's net. Still, the past is where it will remain.
I was a fool. I still may be. But to forgive the fool of folly would be best for all.
Where is there to go from now but forward, what steps and strolls to take
that might make experience not a burden but a steward
It hasn't been as easy a road as I thought it would be. Time and time again, I find myself being away from all the things and people and places I used to know in life. Why is this so, why do I seem to run away, to avoid the subtle hints of the past? There's no more sanctuary left for me, that once used to be. It's raining outside, alh a little cooler now. Feels good for the soul.
Not two weeks ago, I thought it was all over in my mind; imagined I'd moved past all the ghosts of the past that haunted me...but that wasn't the case. They're still there. Slowly, I battle them for control of my soul, for a firmer grip on giving a damn instead of letting fate disintegrate plans into thin air. There's much I've wanted to say, but others have told me to do so would be unwise and purposeless. They are right. So, I will not. The remnants of years will remain as shards for my mind, until I can manage to construct another glass house. I would make it of stone, but stone doesn't let one see like glass and it opposes me in many subtle ways. Still, if Allah wills, a house of glass can survive a hurricane, so not all is or could be lost. I retain proofs of pains past, small evidences that convince me I wasn't entirely caught by insanity's net. Still, the past is where it will remain.
I was a fool. I still may be. But to forgive the fool of folly would be best for all.
Where is there to go from now but forward, what steps and strolls to take
that might make experience not a burden but a steward
6.16.2006
-in the name of Allah-
It's folly to think that what has gone will lie calmly down in the grave I've dug, every shovel of earth carries with it a scream of agony in hopes to reach the skies above. Alas, the fate of the dearly departed mound of dirt is simply to bury, nothing else though ghosts might entice the digger not to hurry. I need fuel to absorb and process, understand and internalize, or else the mind will erode my inner being from the deepest core wherein the soul lies. But where is the care one's supposed to feel while approaching friends and acquaintances? There's nothing but an absence, slowly creating and widening another lovely, black-hole of an abcess. Sure, I can keep my conscience above this fray that occurs on the lowest levels of being, but how long can it go on without erasing knowledge of meaning? I began to read some of yesterday and the consequences came in a vision I expected but couldn't quite imagine. Abruptly, the pages close and another effort is made to keep the book of history under cloaked threat of coals. Can tomorrow mean something without a past complement? Can ideals survive the battering of thought and fate? Can a lone prayer wipe clean a darkened slate? Questions and answers posed by a restless mind caught in a senseless world, a little bit of clarity perhaps before it becomes a lazy swirl of death's memory.
It's folly to think that what has gone will lie calmly down in the grave I've dug, every shovel of earth carries with it a scream of agony in hopes to reach the skies above. Alas, the fate of the dearly departed mound of dirt is simply to bury, nothing else though ghosts might entice the digger not to hurry. I need fuel to absorb and process, understand and internalize, or else the mind will erode my inner being from the deepest core wherein the soul lies. But where is the care one's supposed to feel while approaching friends and acquaintances? There's nothing but an absence, slowly creating and widening another lovely, black-hole of an abcess. Sure, I can keep my conscience above this fray that occurs on the lowest levels of being, but how long can it go on without erasing knowledge of meaning? I began to read some of yesterday and the consequences came in a vision I expected but couldn't quite imagine. Abruptly, the pages close and another effort is made to keep the book of history under cloaked threat of coals. Can tomorrow mean something without a past complement? Can ideals survive the battering of thought and fate? Can a lone prayer wipe clean a darkened slate? Questions and answers posed by a restless mind caught in a senseless world, a little bit of clarity perhaps before it becomes a lazy swirl of death's memory.
6.13.2006
-in the name of Allah-
Time can be a blessing if only one understands how it brings about healing for the soul and camels for journeys across desert sands. There aren't many oases to be encountered, so take each as it comes, without making it subject to irrelevant wish or whim. Some I know take the bones of the past to make reminders of skeletons, but I think that all they do is make more glass ceilings. Where are those fellow thinkers to help digest and interpret fate's earthquakes and tremors? but Where is he who thinks compared to he who acts? Can one become of both a unfied entity, or are they different species, each clamoring for a chance to be expressed and free? Slow steps for caution, strides for ambition, taking a stroll in between might bring the best of both in voices of unison.
alh
Time can be a blessing if only one understands how it brings about healing for the soul and camels for journeys across desert sands. There aren't many oases to be encountered, so take each as it comes, without making it subject to irrelevant wish or whim. Some I know take the bones of the past to make reminders of skeletons, but I think that all they do is make more glass ceilings. Where are those fellow thinkers to help digest and interpret fate's earthquakes and tremors? but Where is he who thinks compared to he who acts? Can one become of both a unfied entity, or are they different species, each clamoring for a chance to be expressed and free? Slow steps for caution, strides for ambition, taking a stroll in between might bring the best of both in voices of unison.
alh
6.11.2006
-in the name of Allah-
To think, I was foolish enough to imagine the worser times and moments had passed me by, when only there needed to come a day without any pills taken but many wonderings why. I've bordered on heresy before, knowingly questioning the vicissitudes of fate and what it had in store. But yet, so many elements that define me remain paradoxially linked to a future seemingly threatened to its brink. It amazes me how one idea can have sway over man, how just the mere taste of a vision is enough for the mouth to water and all other senses fail in a pattern almost a given. Alas, it's the fate of people such as me, who's favorite past time is thinking and best foresight is thinking..its idea upon idea, slowly building a mountain of unfulfillment. So I posed a question to a friend, can such an idealist survive the tide of time? The shores of the mind are slowly being eroded, the beach's beauty slowly lost, and during it all one wonders reality at what cost. Now, as at every crossroad faced before, I have two options: remain steadfast and know that all has its course and moment, or let loose and live as if anguish was life's only motive. As much as I try, I'll probably fall into the former, for to find the latter my end would puzzle even the coroner.
To think, I was foolish enough to imagine the worser times and moments had passed me by, when only there needed to come a day without any pills taken but many wonderings why. I've bordered on heresy before, knowingly questioning the vicissitudes of fate and what it had in store. But yet, so many elements that define me remain paradoxially linked to a future seemingly threatened to its brink. It amazes me how one idea can have sway over man, how just the mere taste of a vision is enough for the mouth to water and all other senses fail in a pattern almost a given. Alas, it's the fate of people such as me, who's favorite past time is thinking and best foresight is thinking..its idea upon idea, slowly building a mountain of unfulfillment. So I posed a question to a friend, can such an idealist survive the tide of time? The shores of the mind are slowly being eroded, the beach's beauty slowly lost, and during it all one wonders reality at what cost. Now, as at every crossroad faced before, I have two options: remain steadfast and know that all has its course and moment, or let loose and live as if anguish was life's only motive. As much as I try, I'll probably fall into the former, for to find the latter my end would puzzle even the coroner.
6.10.2006
-in the name of Allah-
another chapter, albeit much smaller, in life comes to a periodic close. i wonder if i'm happier now that i've saved myself from high likelihood of grief only to find no avail everywhere else. i'm a step away from what's good for me and i'm a step away from what's not, so what am i closer to? there should be a pill for turning off the nafs and everything that springs from it. sometimes there'd be relief to be found in complete indifference. as that's impossible for me, i meander forth.
certainty is gold, comfort is silver, if i could gift wrap myself an ounce of each i'd be a trillion dollars richer. you might wonder why give myself a gift, it's because i can't quite find the other half in a rear view mirror's tilt. of patterns this i've noticed, imagination is fruitless as long as life is corrosive. building so many towers out of dreamer's bricks, everything evaporates once the stars of fate become even remotely lit. letting go now to be a little safer later on, i see gatsby's ball failed and his only friend came when the bullet revolved. ambitions and dreams, desires and goals, all make up the idealistic idiot that fills all the cameo roles. like a mime i follow his signs and try to gain mastery of time, but what's real and unforeseen clouds my vision to what's a given buried in smokescreens. to each of these ryhmes add a drop of bitterness and a pound of frustration, bake for a lifetime, open the casket to reap heavenly or hellish gestation.
-needing du'a
another chapter, albeit much smaller, in life comes to a periodic close. i wonder if i'm happier now that i've saved myself from high likelihood of grief only to find no avail everywhere else. i'm a step away from what's good for me and i'm a step away from what's not, so what am i closer to? there should be a pill for turning off the nafs and everything that springs from it. sometimes there'd be relief to be found in complete indifference. as that's impossible for me, i meander forth.
certainty is gold, comfort is silver, if i could gift wrap myself an ounce of each i'd be a trillion dollars richer. you might wonder why give myself a gift, it's because i can't quite find the other half in a rear view mirror's tilt. of patterns this i've noticed, imagination is fruitless as long as life is corrosive. building so many towers out of dreamer's bricks, everything evaporates once the stars of fate become even remotely lit. letting go now to be a little safer later on, i see gatsby's ball failed and his only friend came when the bullet revolved. ambitions and dreams, desires and goals, all make up the idealistic idiot that fills all the cameo roles. like a mime i follow his signs and try to gain mastery of time, but what's real and unforeseen clouds my vision to what's a given buried in smokescreens. to each of these ryhmes add a drop of bitterness and a pound of frustration, bake for a lifetime, open the casket to reap heavenly or hellish gestation.
-needing du'a
6.06.2006
6.04.2006
-in the name of Allah-
what the hell am i thinking? sometimes i wonder if i really live in my physical body at all or do i visit other places while thinking to be conscious. i think, once in a while, one experiencing this should bang the head against a wall, then repose the question: what am i doing? o_o
i mean ffs, its as if i created words in my mind to take the place of what someone else said..what other greater form of self-delusion/fallacy can there be?!?!
what the hell am i thinking? sometimes i wonder if i really live in my physical body at all or do i visit other places while thinking to be conscious. i think, once in a while, one experiencing this should bang the head against a wall, then repose the question: what am i doing? o_o
i mean ffs, its as if i created words in my mind to take the place of what someone else said..what other greater form of self-delusion/fallacy can there be?!?!
-in the name of Allah-
so i went camping this past weekend. alhamdulillah, was a generally good experience. met my first beach (without attractions, alh) and saw the waves just crash on the shore. the skies, after rain, made their own cool forms, nice to see but even better when you could actually sit outside somewhat comfortably. in the past time or fore time, managed to write some poetics, release thoughts from within that just kept coming whether people liked it or not lol, but alh, a brain working is a brain able to think over its Creator
Under these stars what words can one soul compose? just enough perhaps to have built a crossing road, spanning seas of trials with wily winds of turbulence. gone past the learning phases and trifles of denial, i know that in life i've reach yet another plateau.
who are you that would not be of those already been, who are you that might solve the puzzle of whom and when? some notions i carry thus, of what becomes from ashes of apathy, exactly what one must. so what new plan have i designed, that might counter scenes previously contrived? i'm now aware and have accepted, how destiny and fate are both by one Single force directed. in the scheme of our existence, it matters little whether our flesh should ever meet, but wholly of this acquaintance that we might acquire a piety more than simply skin deep. with these words i conclude lines of early morning, iA so that in a span of this hour, we find an eternity more endearing.
Cloudy waves
why does the sky hold an animal's remains, rib cage and bones, a mirage soon to be changed? i see the whole as a picture's frame, wondering why it was slaughtered; maybe a deed it did wasn't quite rightly proffered? if it had to die, let us have learned not to spurn a vow long ago sworn.
not many hours later the clouds are transformed, wisping away while revealing stars to help the moon shed light on a nightly cover. darkness may deceive the casual observer, but look a little deeper and find nature's beauty in a muffled whisper.
i purposely write this imagery laced with backflashes and forward slashes because His is a rope i can't seem to let go or ever need any less; every time life rudely awakens in screams of stress, i pull tightly and the twine survives every duress. just as that is the fuel of my soul and the mould of the heart, there some things so innate that a clam's shells need never part to unseal the pearl- a love by infinity trade marked.
so i went camping this past weekend. alhamdulillah, was a generally good experience. met my first beach (without attractions, alh) and saw the waves just crash on the shore. the skies, after rain, made their own cool forms, nice to see but even better when you could actually sit outside somewhat comfortably. in the past time or fore time, managed to write some poetics, release thoughts from within that just kept coming whether people liked it or not lol, but alh, a brain working is a brain able to think over its Creator
Under these stars what words can one soul compose? just enough perhaps to have built a crossing road, spanning seas of trials with wily winds of turbulence. gone past the learning phases and trifles of denial, i know that in life i've reach yet another plateau.
who are you that would not be of those already been, who are you that might solve the puzzle of whom and when? some notions i carry thus, of what becomes from ashes of apathy, exactly what one must. so what new plan have i designed, that might counter scenes previously contrived? i'm now aware and have accepted, how destiny and fate are both by one Single force directed. in the scheme of our existence, it matters little whether our flesh should ever meet, but wholly of this acquaintance that we might acquire a piety more than simply skin deep. with these words i conclude lines of early morning, iA so that in a span of this hour, we find an eternity more endearing.
Cloudy waves
why does the sky hold an animal's remains, rib cage and bones, a mirage soon to be changed? i see the whole as a picture's frame, wondering why it was slaughtered; maybe a deed it did wasn't quite rightly proffered? if it had to die, let us have learned not to spurn a vow long ago sworn.
not many hours later the clouds are transformed, wisping away while revealing stars to help the moon shed light on a nightly cover. darkness may deceive the casual observer, but look a little deeper and find nature's beauty in a muffled whisper.
i purposely write this imagery laced with backflashes and forward slashes because His is a rope i can't seem to let go or ever need any less; every time life rudely awakens in screams of stress, i pull tightly and the twine survives every duress. just as that is the fuel of my soul and the mould of the heart, there some things so innate that a clam's shells need never part to unseal the pearl- a love by infinity trade marked.
6.02.2006
-in the name of Allah-
I know that sometimes wherever one goes, there are always trailing wisps of yesterday to follow, and if they don't happen to be in actuality, then they would be ideally. But enough of ideal and actual, terms I've pondered much over already; there need be no bleeding whence there is surgery.
So what is the current state of affairs? Summer session starts next Mon. iA, and here I go fullsteam toward being a little closer to slightly-self-sufficient (its assumed that Allah is the best of providers, so whatever I can 'attain' for myself, it is only that He makes it easy for me and enables all avenues pertaining to ambition). Ah, its almost time for Jumu'ah. I should be heading out soon iA.
a Toast for 2, 1 Past, 1 Maybe new
so what drives a mountain lion to seek the highest peek? is it his prey he chases, or is it worship, in ways of which we can only dream? maybe the earth below was just enough in yielding fruit, to entice the prey who'd become not long thereafter nourishment to boot. perhaps he knows there's little oxygen to sustain him on those treacherous slopes, but why would he continue, if he knows that death chases all such similar blokes? viewing ascension as a metaphor, and his climb an outlet of earnest truth to find, does there remain for him another door, whence lay another path once his soul decides? it very well may be that it is not for him to decide, but simply ascertain, the road in his eyes made clear, distinct between both loss and gain. so he is to choose, from a spring of reasons seeming to others obtuse, but if he sees the twinkle of a fire's burning on a mountain summit, why should he like others find thirst in an oasis of drink, where to rise is endure and despair is to plummet? questions aside, the lion's fate is written, whether he dies in a wimper or a roar, its all a given. what solely remains is to choose the path either of cowards, or of strain. in the path of struggle, beasts are prey to insanity, while stoics embody those who've found their peace, in the yet-unseen reality.
I know that sometimes wherever one goes, there are always trailing wisps of yesterday to follow, and if they don't happen to be in actuality, then they would be ideally. But enough of ideal and actual, terms I've pondered much over already; there need be no bleeding whence there is surgery.
So what is the current state of affairs? Summer session starts next Mon. iA, and here I go fullsteam toward being a little closer to slightly-self-sufficient (its assumed that Allah is the best of providers, so whatever I can 'attain' for myself, it is only that He makes it easy for me and enables all avenues pertaining to ambition). Ah, its almost time for Jumu'ah. I should be heading out soon iA.
a Toast for 2, 1 Past, 1 Maybe new
so what drives a mountain lion to seek the highest peek? is it his prey he chases, or is it worship, in ways of which we can only dream? maybe the earth below was just enough in yielding fruit, to entice the prey who'd become not long thereafter nourishment to boot. perhaps he knows there's little oxygen to sustain him on those treacherous slopes, but why would he continue, if he knows that death chases all such similar blokes? viewing ascension as a metaphor, and his climb an outlet of earnest truth to find, does there remain for him another door, whence lay another path once his soul decides? it very well may be that it is not for him to decide, but simply ascertain, the road in his eyes made clear, distinct between both loss and gain. so he is to choose, from a spring of reasons seeming to others obtuse, but if he sees the twinkle of a fire's burning on a mountain summit, why should he like others find thirst in an oasis of drink, where to rise is endure and despair is to plummet? questions aside, the lion's fate is written, whether he dies in a wimper or a roar, its all a given. what solely remains is to choose the path either of cowards, or of strain. in the path of struggle, beasts are prey to insanity, while stoics embody those who've found their peace, in the yet-unseen reality.
5.28.2006
-in the name of Allah-
summer is slow. and hot. i think my brain functions differently under higher temps than cooler. anyways, i think some things become a part of one's self so intrinsically its imagined that the actual, true self is what you see. no, this is isn't lamenting anymore, simply reflection.
patterns and phases mark the dawn of yesterday in shadows traceless. if every rendezevous was a bridge, then how is it crossed? certain qualities crop up and again remind me in some places i remain lost. if i've learned and accepted from past lessons and directives, then from where does the volcano of habit erupt to bring forth new life, when the old is so stubbornly erected? as a side note, i notice the unrefined and vulgar of essence are repulsive, even if the message conveyed was intended to comfort and solace. and so, if demons once vanquished ever dared to raise again their faces, i'd pass the plate on to someone more desirous of a soul i deemed abrasive. still fate may play its tricks and traps, when we think doors to chance are shut- poof opens the latch and so stunned, we react. i feel former chains releasing my being away from memory's storied enclave, to a place a little safer, at least until the soul is saved. surely i won't deny phantoms a drink of water or even a dinner's meal, but when comes time of rest and repose, all shall retire to destiny's originally scheduled reel.
summer is slow. and hot. i think my brain functions differently under higher temps than cooler. anyways, i think some things become a part of one's self so intrinsically its imagined that the actual, true self is what you see. no, this is isn't lamenting anymore, simply reflection.
patterns and phases mark the dawn of yesterday in shadows traceless. if every rendezevous was a bridge, then how is it crossed? certain qualities crop up and again remind me in some places i remain lost. if i've learned and accepted from past lessons and directives, then from where does the volcano of habit erupt to bring forth new life, when the old is so stubbornly erected? as a side note, i notice the unrefined and vulgar of essence are repulsive, even if the message conveyed was intended to comfort and solace. and so, if demons once vanquished ever dared to raise again their faces, i'd pass the plate on to someone more desirous of a soul i deemed abrasive. still fate may play its tricks and traps, when we think doors to chance are shut- poof opens the latch and so stunned, we react. i feel former chains releasing my being away from memory's storied enclave, to a place a little safer, at least until the soul is saved. surely i won't deny phantoms a drink of water or even a dinner's meal, but when comes time of rest and repose, all shall retire to destiny's originally scheduled reel.
5.27.2006
-in the name of Allah-
for the first time in recent memory, i find myself posting twice on the same day. *shrug* there's a first time for everything. i found out today that fate isn't escapeable, it can't be hoodwinked, it has no roundabout way- its simply to the point.
so on this listless saturday afternoon, what thoughts are there to describe? what potions to release from the mind and soul to make the ink of expression? whatever it is, it's been a long time coming
Back to the Future
its true that often do we expect, but rarely do we realize any fruit. so what use are those times when simpler, subtler pleasures sufficed to bring one at ease and fall easily asleep at night? the answer to this lies in the annals of wisdom's labyrinth, a path whose end is only found when truth and the self are in sync. the nafs had bubbled and boiled, almost overtaken the stove and killed the chef who toiled over its care; now the time arrives when recipies proven contain and define the very dish that left so many lost in confusion. my own wants are to be slaves to truth, slaves for One, slaves for whom there is no underground railroad to hell, slaves whose only recourse is in whats written when this life is done. i will love again if its my destiny, but never again can i let blind me. for in those days, i foolishly assumed that the soul without action could be enough to build for me my carriage in this traveller's life, so unaware that folly would consume my time and waste it away, robbing me of all its insight. so if experience had any fruit, it'd be an onion; though bringing tears, it helps the vision.
that sucked. next time, i wait until i actually feel like writing t_t
for the first time in recent memory, i find myself posting twice on the same day. *shrug* there's a first time for everything. i found out today that fate isn't escapeable, it can't be hoodwinked, it has no roundabout way- its simply to the point.
so on this listless saturday afternoon, what thoughts are there to describe? what potions to release from the mind and soul to make the ink of expression? whatever it is, it's been a long time coming
Back to the Future
its true that often do we expect, but rarely do we realize any fruit. so what use are those times when simpler, subtler pleasures sufficed to bring one at ease and fall easily asleep at night? the answer to this lies in the annals of wisdom's labyrinth, a path whose end is only found when truth and the self are in sync. the nafs had bubbled and boiled, almost overtaken the stove and killed the chef who toiled over its care; now the time arrives when recipies proven contain and define the very dish that left so many lost in confusion. my own wants are to be slaves to truth, slaves for One, slaves for whom there is no underground railroad to hell, slaves whose only recourse is in whats written when this life is done. i will love again if its my destiny, but never again can i let blind me. for in those days, i foolishly assumed that the soul without action could be enough to build for me my carriage in this traveller's life, so unaware that folly would consume my time and waste it away, robbing me of all its insight. so if experience had any fruit, it'd be an onion; though bringing tears, it helps the vision.
that sucked. next time, i wait until i actually feel like writing t_t
5.23.2006
-in the name of Allah-
so i'm taking each day as it comes, expecting no more of it than what came the day before but what i can and do make of it right then and there. i learned of a piece of news both cheerful and sad: one i'd known was going further along the road to secure her future and solidify her present. of course, i will pray for her happiness and that of her husband's too (someone has to tell him what person he's found- might very well be the most fortunate person alive). in any case, my life shall progress bi'ithniAllah in a more positive direction. where once i was averse to the masjid, i enjoin myself without hesitation. the academia is only as hard as i make it, which means it can be pretty easy. and also, as someone once advised me, the poetry will go on, iA
seasons of conclusion
no more late night drives down the long roads of I-29, no more drops of saltiness to nurture seeds of bittersweet redress. no more toiling conversations in this modern age of one dimension, no more seeking of how misfortune might become the fate of intervention. i've wandered and i've travelled, looking for something more than just haphazard. i found little consistency in anything besides what lies in me, so it only makes sense to be whole instead of partial to parts where one is unaware of his neighbor's goal. so now as one and one accepted, i realize how former faults are to be soon perfected. thoughts and minds alike do find a prison and a palace as threads intertwined- though one seems to be the other, i'll wait to be free and know true happiness in time.
so i'm taking each day as it comes, expecting no more of it than what came the day before but what i can and do make of it right then and there. i learned of a piece of news both cheerful and sad: one i'd known was going further along the road to secure her future and solidify her present. of course, i will pray for her happiness and that of her husband's too (someone has to tell him what person he's found- might very well be the most fortunate person alive). in any case, my life shall progress bi'ithniAllah in a more positive direction. where once i was averse to the masjid, i enjoin myself without hesitation. the academia is only as hard as i make it, which means it can be pretty easy. and also, as someone once advised me, the poetry will go on, iA
seasons of conclusion
no more late night drives down the long roads of I-29, no more drops of saltiness to nurture seeds of bittersweet redress. no more toiling conversations in this modern age of one dimension, no more seeking of how misfortune might become the fate of intervention. i've wandered and i've travelled, looking for something more than just haphazard. i found little consistency in anything besides what lies in me, so it only makes sense to be whole instead of partial to parts where one is unaware of his neighbor's goal. so now as one and one accepted, i realize how former faults are to be soon perfected. thoughts and minds alike do find a prison and a palace as threads intertwined- though one seems to be the other, i'll wait to be free and know true happiness in time.
5.17.2006
5.14.2006
-in the name of Allah-
for the first time in ages a heart beat likened to that of a train, moment one a glance through the messages on a phone and moment two a glance at a blogger's page.
how can i summarize in finite ryhmes a rythm that evoked both clouds and sunshine? however impossible the words will be written, for theres no other place to open the chest and unload the burden.
for a few hours early this sunday morning, i felt the unease of uncertainty slip away and surety a little closer approaching. it was a sign of fate for me to see a phantom arriving once more on stage, hardly material but through a handful of syllables, it swept the wonder away. but of course, i can understand, more than any other, how the realm we cannot see is sometimes a storm we can only weather. in those inclemencies lay our trials, even of love or hate or apathy or sanity's denial. these prior few lines preclude in stunning coincidence, how fates unknown become clear through impartial providence. some while later in the day i'd read again inevitable words, though to be expected but never fully concorded or accepted. a more recent play, more recent composition, held my hand through a dream and its dissolution. as fables go, the one who lives as 'should' would say, often comes another chapter to know.
i've let loose enough floods, its time to hold the dam; rather save the town than drown in what i am. take my words as tokens of consolation, maybe if ever you hurt again there's relief in those thoughts only waiting. if i had to be your imagination's jester theres no way i mind the idiot box- for if i could make you laugh instead of cry, it might all be better.
ma'asalaam
[side note- who knows how many of these farewell-imitations i write, but i figure each and every one is healthy lol]
for the first time in ages a heart beat likened to that of a train, moment one a glance through the messages on a phone and moment two a glance at a blogger's page.
how can i summarize in finite ryhmes a rythm that evoked both clouds and sunshine? however impossible the words will be written, for theres no other place to open the chest and unload the burden.
for a few hours early this sunday morning, i felt the unease of uncertainty slip away and surety a little closer approaching. it was a sign of fate for me to see a phantom arriving once more on stage, hardly material but through a handful of syllables, it swept the wonder away. but of course, i can understand, more than any other, how the realm we cannot see is sometimes a storm we can only weather. in those inclemencies lay our trials, even of love or hate or apathy or sanity's denial. these prior few lines preclude in stunning coincidence, how fates unknown become clear through impartial providence. some while later in the day i'd read again inevitable words, though to be expected but never fully concorded or accepted. a more recent play, more recent composition, held my hand through a dream and its dissolution. as fables go, the one who lives as 'should' would say, often comes another chapter to know.
i've let loose enough floods, its time to hold the dam; rather save the town than drown in what i am. take my words as tokens of consolation, maybe if ever you hurt again there's relief in those thoughts only waiting. if i had to be your imagination's jester theres no way i mind the idiot box- for if i could make you laugh instead of cry, it might all be better.
ma'asalaam
[side note- who knows how many of these farewell-imitations i write, but i figure each and every one is healthy lol]
5.07.2006
-in the name of Allah-
As i ponder now what reply to write i realize there's no need, for we've both attained the truth even if the price seemed too steep. there's a link, to be sure, now etched in stones of memory; where normally weather would erode those carvings, no fate could remove what remains of you in me. there's plenty inside of me wishing to be free, to taste the skies and finally know a dream in this reality, but- such is the fate we've been given, like it or not, its blessing enough to have had our paths once woven. if there's a key to my heart i've parted from its keeper, though only for a time so each might grow however slowly from wisdom's nectar. no ryhme is just right to explain what i felt when i read those lines, but i'd rather blow against an open wind and let nature take its course, than assassinate inner phrases hewn while asleep and awake.
HasbiAllahu wa ni'mal Wakeel
As i ponder now what reply to write i realize there's no need, for we've both attained the truth even if the price seemed too steep. there's a link, to be sure, now etched in stones of memory; where normally weather would erode those carvings, no fate could remove what remains of you in me. there's plenty inside of me wishing to be free, to taste the skies and finally know a dream in this reality, but- such is the fate we've been given, like it or not, its blessing enough to have had our paths once woven. if there's a key to my heart i've parted from its keeper, though only for a time so each might grow however slowly from wisdom's nectar. no ryhme is just right to explain what i felt when i read those lines, but i'd rather blow against an open wind and let nature take its course, than assassinate inner phrases hewn while asleep and awake.
HasbiAllahu wa ni'mal Wakeel
5.01.2006
-in the name of Allah-
The words you wrote were precisely the words I felt, an echo resounding of the hands we've each been dealt. You take your path and I take mine, yet I feel this pain is lovely and departure now is only a means to arrival in time. If words were words when still unspoken or unheard, then bitterly sweet would exactly be the phrase to describe why one accepts the dosage of He who fate decides. If you knew my state as it stands, you'd see a man still in quicksand but holding tightly to a few threads he learned back when his vision wasn't running from him nightly. Still, I reverberate with "ameen", for you know my story much better than I previously gleaned.
My words are folly, like this attempt at writing where the hook's in the water but the fish aren't biting. You should see all the times I forumlated compositions in my mind with unequivocal eloquence only to see them fade into forgottenness, but alas this is the road I take and the role I held in having made at least one playground safe, if only for a time- though now its a danger to dream, if you open up the book again, it may come apart from the seams. I owe you at least what you did for me, though I've faults too numerous to list; I repay honesty with its twin in imagery.
I'll write soon, once, inshAllah.
The words you wrote were precisely the words I felt, an echo resounding of the hands we've each been dealt. You take your path and I take mine, yet I feel this pain is lovely and departure now is only a means to arrival in time. If words were words when still unspoken or unheard, then bitterly sweet would exactly be the phrase to describe why one accepts the dosage of He who fate decides. If you knew my state as it stands, you'd see a man still in quicksand but holding tightly to a few threads he learned back when his vision wasn't running from him nightly. Still, I reverberate with "ameen", for you know my story much better than I previously gleaned.
My words are folly, like this attempt at writing where the hook's in the water but the fish aren't biting. You should see all the times I forumlated compositions in my mind with unequivocal eloquence only to see them fade into forgottenness, but alas this is the road I take and the role I held in having made at least one playground safe, if only for a time- though now its a danger to dream, if you open up the book again, it may come apart from the seams. I owe you at least what you did for me, though I've faults too numerous to list; I repay honesty with its twin in imagery.
I'll write soon, once, inshAllah.
4.11.2006
-in the name of Allah-
the comprehensive update
so among the notable events of the past few days, i went to DE to visit my bro's family and meet my littlest nephew Abdullah; the question is posed: when are babies not cute? seems to be impossible in my limited experience; alhamdulillah i havent had the chance to bear witness to such a thing (lol). as it should be. on another note, the second day of spring break proves as minutely fruitful as the last. as it can be expected i guess. lately, though, poetic thoughts have begun a come back, challenging my contemporary thinking processes: is expression unexpressed worthy of stagnating in the mind and not seeing light of day? i think it'll see.
(composing slowly, coming soon)
the comprehensive update
so among the notable events of the past few days, i went to DE to visit my bro's family and meet my littlest nephew Abdullah; the question is posed: when are babies not cute? seems to be impossible in my limited experience; alhamdulillah i havent had the chance to bear witness to such a thing (lol). as it should be. on another note, the second day of spring break proves as minutely fruitful as the last. as it can be expected i guess. lately, though, poetic thoughts have begun a come back, challenging my contemporary thinking processes: is expression unexpressed worthy of stagnating in the mind and not seeing light of day? i think it'll see.
(composing slowly, coming soon)
4.09.2006
-in the name of Allah-
Alhamdulillah, it seems my physical health is back to normal with nothing at a loss. But, to get straight to the point, answers to someone's questions:
1) yes, that was me
2) sorry for not picking up the celly, was somewhat pensive and didnt hear it ring/vibrate
3) at times i drive along those areas for some reason or other, but moreso perhaps because i view it as a place i once knew
i doubt two missed (private) phone calls ever could've been at a better time. will probably update more comprehensively soon though.
Alhamdulillah, it seems my physical health is back to normal with nothing at a loss. But, to get straight to the point, answers to someone's questions:
1) yes, that was me
2) sorry for not picking up the celly, was somewhat pensive and didnt hear it ring/vibrate
3) at times i drive along those areas for some reason or other, but moreso perhaps because i view it as a place i once knew
i doubt two missed (private) phone calls ever could've been at a better time. will probably update more comprehensively soon though.
4.01.2006
3.31.2006
-in the name of Allah-
(may Allah grant my bro relief from his affliction, ameen)
Life is an exhausting journey, simply for the fact we may never know where it takes us. nonetheless, being the prone-to-sentimentality person that i am, i think a fitting good bye poem is in order..
seems like just yesterday i opened the vase of life only to find that it wasnt really full of roses and pansies like i'd once fancied, but rather its full to the brim with silk-cut contraptions whose appearance doesnt fade with time but whose liking can only grow more haphazard. you i knew once for a moment of life's trifles, but what a moment it was: one of my first glimpses into the beauty of humanity and the ever-present unbridled paradoxes it never ceases to let go of slowly. i have no regrets because i cannot take back the past so ill take joy in knowing thats its better to love and lost than never loved at all, though how often do so many decry and defame the very name known as love. who cares what one wishes to call it, its a cherished moment ill remember forever, as long as fate gives me breath tenuously tethered to the sacs of my lungs. new words and new impressions fail me as they usually do, i'd abandoned poetics to find me again and it seems i've once again reached truth. admittedly its hard to accept, but accept i will to let life take its course and take its thrill. reading over these words i sound ridiculously contrived, as if i couldnt compose a line to save a mere thousand invalid lives, much less my own thats struggling to find a voice of expression and being and action that follows its footsteps with doggedly determined air.
frivilous words, i mean to say through it all i will forever in some harbored part of the heart, care and never cease to do so as long as i'm human, though im prone to eccentricity and isolationist tendencies that provoke life-changing thought reminiscent of those locked in insanity. move on and let the threads of my words travel through the still air between us and perchance bring you comfort in times to come without recollecting despair. if the truth will be as truth once was, we'll meet again in dreams of gardens with visions watered.
eh, there it is. first poetic in ages. hmm. its difficult bringing myself to come back to the places and people i once frequented so well, but i will try. inshAllah.
if i may take a moment, why not thank you, i wonder who ever comes to read this anymore. lol, doesnt matter in the end....one day, one day..
ma'asalaam
(may Allah grant my bro relief from his affliction, ameen)
Life is an exhausting journey, simply for the fact we may never know where it takes us. nonetheless, being the prone-to-sentimentality person that i am, i think a fitting good bye poem is in order..
seems like just yesterday i opened the vase of life only to find that it wasnt really full of roses and pansies like i'd once fancied, but rather its full to the brim with silk-cut contraptions whose appearance doesnt fade with time but whose liking can only grow more haphazard. you i knew once for a moment of life's trifles, but what a moment it was: one of my first glimpses into the beauty of humanity and the ever-present unbridled paradoxes it never ceases to let go of slowly. i have no regrets because i cannot take back the past so ill take joy in knowing thats its better to love and lost than never loved at all, though how often do so many decry and defame the very name known as love. who cares what one wishes to call it, its a cherished moment ill remember forever, as long as fate gives me breath tenuously tethered to the sacs of my lungs. new words and new impressions fail me as they usually do, i'd abandoned poetics to find me again and it seems i've once again reached truth. admittedly its hard to accept, but accept i will to let life take its course and take its thrill. reading over these words i sound ridiculously contrived, as if i couldnt compose a line to save a mere thousand invalid lives, much less my own thats struggling to find a voice of expression and being and action that follows its footsteps with doggedly determined air.
frivilous words, i mean to say through it all i will forever in some harbored part of the heart, care and never cease to do so as long as i'm human, though im prone to eccentricity and isolationist tendencies that provoke life-changing thought reminiscent of those locked in insanity. move on and let the threads of my words travel through the still air between us and perchance bring you comfort in times to come without recollecting despair. if the truth will be as truth once was, we'll meet again in dreams of gardens with visions watered.
eh, there it is. first poetic in ages. hmm. its difficult bringing myself to come back to the places and people i once frequented so well, but i will try. inshAllah.
if i may take a moment, why not thank you, i wonder who ever comes to read this anymore. lol, doesnt matter in the end....one day, one day..
ma'asalaam