- in the name of Allah -
rising, still yet to have risen, the world around crumbles to a point predetermined. with my role still a cloud hovering between hurricane and summer breeze, i need a plane to fly over the chaos of impossibilities. questions are easy to pose but answers harder to find, work is the solution but i can't seem to shutdown the mind. people wonder at what things are worth it, what goals truly lofty and fitting to give form to purpose. when the world shrinks to a hundred square feet, there no problems looking for meaning underneath. but when you lift the curtains and pull back the shades, right along with allies and enemies creeps doubt and enmity. its a calculated risk some never consider, except those who've lost reason to madness and stretch out bridges forever. fleeting scenes changing constantly, meaning is a dying breed replaced by polite but distant sociality. in these darkened times, there are some beacons that beckon, some possibilities that whisper solace and recovery, at points beyond my personal reckoning.
2.28.2007
2.16.2007
- in the name of Allah -
divergence
resisting insistence, i stand on the wall in between heaven and perdition, seeing below on both sides the minions screaming fury and repentance. my path was chosen yesterday but its unclear now, the choices were evident once but less clarity abounds. surely like so many around and before me, i want the gardens of bliss with everlasting peace, a perfect existence unfettered by where notions of humanity reach. its the conundrum of no guarantees, that nothing i say or do will get me to a place underneath palm trees, a place of vigilant sunshine, with no want for skies or oceans, just the truth released from within every fortunate human being. it strikes me as particularly sad, that things i once took for granted now are the very things i don't have. its the people and the ways we used to be able to talk, how they've changed and now it seems i'm stuck in a warp. i see others reaching for the same clouds i once knew, but bitter disillusion and lack of resolve has me re-thinking the whole plot to this story through and through. i recall a short series of gripes, procedural inequities formed presumably to establish why it can't be utopian in design. there's essence of rebellion insidious in this expression, but i'll be damned already if the worlds not hellishly driven. still, i'm not fool enough to deny or turn my back on the power that Is, but simply using my ability of sight i decry the things i've felt, of how it all shouldn't be what it is. the question in effect, for my self, becomes, is the redemptive quality of then able to compensate for the injustice of now? ah who cares, the chips and peaces will fall and shatter where they will, just my path became a little cloudier still.
divergence
resisting insistence, i stand on the wall in between heaven and perdition, seeing below on both sides the minions screaming fury and repentance. my path was chosen yesterday but its unclear now, the choices were evident once but less clarity abounds. surely like so many around and before me, i want the gardens of bliss with everlasting peace, a perfect existence unfettered by where notions of humanity reach. its the conundrum of no guarantees, that nothing i say or do will get me to a place underneath palm trees, a place of vigilant sunshine, with no want for skies or oceans, just the truth released from within every fortunate human being. it strikes me as particularly sad, that things i once took for granted now are the very things i don't have. its the people and the ways we used to be able to talk, how they've changed and now it seems i'm stuck in a warp. i see others reaching for the same clouds i once knew, but bitter disillusion and lack of resolve has me re-thinking the whole plot to this story through and through. i recall a short series of gripes, procedural inequities formed presumably to establish why it can't be utopian in design. there's essence of rebellion insidious in this expression, but i'll be damned already if the worlds not hellishly driven. still, i'm not fool enough to deny or turn my back on the power that Is, but simply using my ability of sight i decry the things i've felt, of how it all shouldn't be what it is. the question in effect, for my self, becomes, is the redemptive quality of then able to compensate for the injustice of now? ah who cares, the chips and peaces will fall and shatter where they will, just my path became a little cloudier still.
2.12.2007
- in the name of Allah -
so it appears my one day experiment with facebook has ended, perhaps prematurely. it turns out, according to some external circumstances evidently unforeseen, that it is more of a hassle and source of bullshit than can be considered worthwhile. it should be noted that my purpose in even bothering with facebook was but exploratory, and having received no reply to my first step, in conjunction with the aforementioned external circumstances, made the whole scenario one for which i become entirely unfit to bother with.
after this brief time, one re-acknowledges terms such as destiny, fate, preordainment, and patience- most concepts which human beings, at their core, detest simply because they are that over which we have no control (in theory). one wonders if the notion of readiness becomes at all applicable in these pseudo-circumstances, if these notions should become prevalent above or beyond inborn states of being. i imagine only another who can understand what i write, but again it occurs to me that what one imagines is, in fact, originating from within the imagination, and therefore, it does not exist, at least in the idea's inception. of course the question of persisting in this imagining is a fruitful or worthwhile objective, to consistently relay to the world outside those characteristics sought in another, for the distant or close purpose. in short, should one keep cursing the wind because it does not carry the echoes far enough, perhaps to a place where the one desired might reside. alas, the wind is without fault. my lungs fail me, yet they may grow still, alveoli filling with air to bring about a fulfillment existing in the mind.
so it appears my one day experiment with facebook has ended, perhaps prematurely. it turns out, according to some external circumstances evidently unforeseen, that it is more of a hassle and source of bullshit than can be considered worthwhile. it should be noted that my purpose in even bothering with facebook was but exploratory, and having received no reply to my first step, in conjunction with the aforementioned external circumstances, made the whole scenario one for which i become entirely unfit to bother with.
after this brief time, one re-acknowledges terms such as destiny, fate, preordainment, and patience- most concepts which human beings, at their core, detest simply because they are that over which we have no control (in theory). one wonders if the notion of readiness becomes at all applicable in these pseudo-circumstances, if these notions should become prevalent above or beyond inborn states of being. i imagine only another who can understand what i write, but again it occurs to me that what one imagines is, in fact, originating from within the imagination, and therefore, it does not exist, at least in the idea's inception. of course the question of persisting in this imagining is a fruitful or worthwhile objective, to consistently relay to the world outside those characteristics sought in another, for the distant or close purpose. in short, should one keep cursing the wind because it does not carry the echoes far enough, perhaps to a place where the one desired might reside. alas, the wind is without fault. my lungs fail me, yet they may grow still, alveoli filling with air to bring about a fulfillment existing in the mind.
2.10.2007
- in the name of Allah -
As fate would have it, there's no way I could have gotten through the season without catching one cold at least once before it all went away. And now that this cold is finally here, there is previously absent but now present need to explicate here some of the events occurring in the past few days. The most notable, as one might suspect, was a dream. It was one of those dreams that left you feeling hopeful, full wonder, and through the whole commotion bit of it, wholly aware of the piece about taking things with a grain of salt. Nonetheless, the kind of sweetness this dream offered was fairly unparalleled, least by anything I've known up until this moment. Now, on to the dream. Among the most prevalent bits, I was speaking to someone on the phone for an entire night, this someone being one with whom I've spoken before, but always on a level mutually-agreed upon as simple and austere friendship. This dream however, carried in it an idea that maybe, howsoever possible, this friendship might, one day, develop to something more substantial and ultimately, something more fulfilling. I am well acquainted with these kinds of things, having been a former idealist in a past life many times over. You might say the fool never wearies of playing his part when the fiddler comes fiddling with his tunes. In practice, however, I should hope this fool has learned a thing or two about broaching such boundaries only within the proper mode of time. So, the temporal gust of happiness is brushed to the side and life should march onward. Still, the subconscious and subliminal importance of acknowledging and accepting the role dreams, both held and envisioned, play in life can only lead to fulfillment, as long as one knows just how to take the pill of patience with a glass of water half full.
As fate would have it, there's no way I could have gotten through the season without catching one cold at least once before it all went away. And now that this cold is finally here, there is previously absent but now present need to explicate here some of the events occurring in the past few days. The most notable, as one might suspect, was a dream. It was one of those dreams that left you feeling hopeful, full wonder, and through the whole commotion bit of it, wholly aware of the piece about taking things with a grain of salt. Nonetheless, the kind of sweetness this dream offered was fairly unparalleled, least by anything I've known up until this moment. Now, on to the dream. Among the most prevalent bits, I was speaking to someone on the phone for an entire night, this someone being one with whom I've spoken before, but always on a level mutually-agreed upon as simple and austere friendship. This dream however, carried in it an idea that maybe, howsoever possible, this friendship might, one day, develop to something more substantial and ultimately, something more fulfilling. I am well acquainted with these kinds of things, having been a former idealist in a past life many times over. You might say the fool never wearies of playing his part when the fiddler comes fiddling with his tunes. In practice, however, I should hope this fool has learned a thing or two about broaching such boundaries only within the proper mode of time. So, the temporal gust of happiness is brushed to the side and life should march onward. Still, the subconscious and subliminal importance of acknowledging and accepting the role dreams, both held and envisioned, play in life can only lead to fulfillment, as long as one knows just how to take the pill of patience with a glass of water half full.
2.08.2007
- in the name of Allah -
Been awhile since my last post, kind of wondering what I still plan on doing here. Yet another someone I knew has been pushed away, this time because of the weakness inherent in my own self. I had a dream I called an old friend and he simply ignored me and refused to bother reconnecting, which brings me to my next point- are relationships left for dead ever worth resurrecting? We used to know many good times, over the past decade, but it seems like time and its ever penetrating ability to make barriers has struck once again. People grow up together, then end up growing apart simply because life and they themselves are so different. Among my fears is that of being considered the same as I once was, something that leads me to avoid and despise places I used to frequent so often. I even tend to dislike meeting people from my past, persisting in the notion that their ideas of me do not allow for growth, that the image of myself in their minds is as static as wind in space. Were this true, I could easily justify my isolationist tendencies, but I cannot know what the case really is without subjecting myself to the very judgmental and over-rational behavior that I exhibit myself on occasion. No doubt it is a self defense mechanism, intended internally to protect and keep protected, but that so-called shelter leaves much to be desired. Human beings will always be social creatures, though howsoever preferential in what particular social setting they actually desire. The one I long for, the one so evident in the social institution of marriage, is delayed to me, as what it requires is what I as yet do not have. So time, one might think, is the essential conclusion to this predicament. It is, but the human soul does not live within time, the human soul is constantly reaching and wanting and wishing in places where time does not bind it, gardens of carefree bliss that do not depend on drugs, or quicks of social construction, but simply the overwhelming presence of what is good and the true food of the soul: the One.
Been awhile since my last post, kind of wondering what I still plan on doing here. Yet another someone I knew has been pushed away, this time because of the weakness inherent in my own self. I had a dream I called an old friend and he simply ignored me and refused to bother reconnecting, which brings me to my next point- are relationships left for dead ever worth resurrecting? We used to know many good times, over the past decade, but it seems like time and its ever penetrating ability to make barriers has struck once again. People grow up together, then end up growing apart simply because life and they themselves are so different. Among my fears is that of being considered the same as I once was, something that leads me to avoid and despise places I used to frequent so often. I even tend to dislike meeting people from my past, persisting in the notion that their ideas of me do not allow for growth, that the image of myself in their minds is as static as wind in space. Were this true, I could easily justify my isolationist tendencies, but I cannot know what the case really is without subjecting myself to the very judgmental and over-rational behavior that I exhibit myself on occasion. No doubt it is a self defense mechanism, intended internally to protect and keep protected, but that so-called shelter leaves much to be desired. Human beings will always be social creatures, though howsoever preferential in what particular social setting they actually desire. The one I long for, the one so evident in the social institution of marriage, is delayed to me, as what it requires is what I as yet do not have. So time, one might think, is the essential conclusion to this predicament. It is, but the human soul does not live within time, the human soul is constantly reaching and wanting and wishing in places where time does not bind it, gardens of carefree bliss that do not depend on drugs, or quicks of social construction, but simply the overwhelming presence of what is good and the true food of the soul: the One.