- in the name of Allah -



slowly but surely i'm losing the pieces of my past right before me, friends moving away, friends getting married, friends finding their way to responsibility and faith, and my own truck stuck in a ditch of inconsolability. seems like every reason i have to move ahead, another two keep me back. even still i wonder what defines true progress, for i knew of that one friend who, a few months younger than i, was married before in a union lasting but a few moons, so does this new swoon mean he's carried his nafs on through that chaos, or is it just another rougher tumble through a heap of weeds and thorns that all look alike in their beauty and scorn. of course i assume he's grown past those throes and now should relish a better place his acceptance past helped him sow. but what of me? my equations fail to yield immediate results, no apparent solutions, every other attempt seems like a past one only further diluted. trying to love again is a costly risk i hope i'm able to take, another fail and who knows if i ever manage again to bring sanity to the unsaved face. people i knew who used to know me, calls and text messages rummage through meetings long overdue and bonds of brotherhood left to be ravaged by time and the selfish threads of misery. it takes a few clicks to make that connection, to reawaken the deadened and lessened, but will i ever be ready to stare in the face the world that stares back with incrimination, damnation, only a stride short of all-out villification. every day in so many situations people all over do what they dont like to get what they think they want, but is that myriad of loss the same abyss i should step into? or is my perception by experience so deeply voided and reconstructed in disillusion so kingly annointed, that any effort could ever fly past the gates of thought where they were born in anonymity? as it usually is, thinking becomes a crutch to lean on when the outside only gets colder, when the rooms gets smaller, as life approaches closer to almost over. sleepwalking and daydreaming, two states simultaneously i find in myself in so many ways gasping instead of breathing, no gentle winds where my mind exists, only a past unfulfilled and future impossible to reckon in certainty. its late in the morning, calls to close lids and shutter whatever is 'other', becoming only more pronounced whilst truer meaning slips right on through