- in the name of Allah -
Just a few more days until 2008 comes to a close. What a year it's been, like others before it, telling of great self-revelations, where I learn who I truly am, with a touch more of sarcastic irony coating the magic pill of inevitability. To this day, though I know parts of my potential, parts of my strengths and weaknesses, what I love and do not love, I miss still my purpose in the grand scheme of things. I am a mortal that bleeds upon being cut, that cries (or comes close to it) upon losing what is dear, one who sees a path but does not know what it is nor how to follow it. I can reflect on my past posts and see the emotions of the moment, the rights and wrongs frivolously thrown here and there like they were supposed to 'be' and so they 'were'. Every other minute tells me of what I've missed, of my inadequacy in fulfilling that time with something productive, of being unable to fill the vacuum that is a human mind with something, anything, just so one may think a little less, question a few times fewer. Each year it seems like I have approached and taken the jump off another peak in the sine wave of human growth, but where does the next jump land me? Higher or lower than the wave before it? Is my slope nothing or something, defined or infinite? As I get older, the gap between what I have and what I need to maintain a life(style) befitting of a Muslim, gets only larger. I see mistakes, like I have before, but still I cannot always bring myself to care. Still, a piece is missing, a piece I have thought of as imaan/faith, but that comes and goes. So what is it that I am truly seeking? What is it that I have sought all this time, the sum of everything before that time has/will lead me to?
12.28.2008
12.11.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Ah, the contemplations of life. How they vary from time to time and place to place. Aside from the typical blargage that is academia and finals, I've actually had a few thoughts of dissimilitude.
Sun and Moon
...asking the most popular puppets of the day, they'd choose to be Suns shining brightly, with staffs in hand to whip and command, throw wealth and influence around and show off their control over the land. but ask me, and I might choose to be a Moon, not quite as brightly blinding or self-sustaining in visual glamour, but quietly echoing a sense of serenity while emanating a glow both dependent on and farthest from the Sun's vanity. Suns and Moons might be compared as Fire and Ice, and though that debate could earnestly last forever into nothing, I'd personally rather choose moonlit Ice, farthest from the action but plenty close to knowing the meaning of its own existence. Though one rises to enable sight and civilization's bustle, the one that falls to guide wary travelers in the darkness that is night appeals more fully to one of evident contradiction, seeking both humanity and its isolation, both companionship and solitary contemplation, onwardly going without solute or solvent to a solution of sheer inward gravitation. why I come less to the land of words, either written or typed, in anyone's guess, wandering or wondering still I assume, a role more attuned to things assured and concretely groomed. how does a Moon pick up its scattered light in a desert when all the canopies have been stripped away of their green, now only gray and yellow, a sign of negligence and decay? I need mirrors, reflections deep and illuminating, true and reverberating, not in myself, but in another or others, without fear of destiny's hand always hovering. a touch of truth, of a nature genuine, of a brush in hand, of a painter's ploy or plea to sanity, to draw an answer human to all the questions plaguing me..
Ah, the contemplations of life. How they vary from time to time and place to place. Aside from the typical blargage that is academia and finals, I've actually had a few thoughts of dissimilitude.
Sun and Moon
...asking the most popular puppets of the day, they'd choose to be Suns shining brightly, with staffs in hand to whip and command, throw wealth and influence around and show off their control over the land. but ask me, and I might choose to be a Moon, not quite as brightly blinding or self-sustaining in visual glamour, but quietly echoing a sense of serenity while emanating a glow both dependent on and farthest from the Sun's vanity. Suns and Moons might be compared as Fire and Ice, and though that debate could earnestly last forever into nothing, I'd personally rather choose moonlit Ice, farthest from the action but plenty close to knowing the meaning of its own existence. Though one rises to enable sight and civilization's bustle, the one that falls to guide wary travelers in the darkness that is night appeals more fully to one of evident contradiction, seeking both humanity and its isolation, both companionship and solitary contemplation, onwardly going without solute or solvent to a solution of sheer inward gravitation. why I come less to the land of words, either written or typed, in anyone's guess, wandering or wondering still I assume, a role more attuned to things assured and concretely groomed. how does a Moon pick up its scattered light in a desert when all the canopies have been stripped away of their green, now only gray and yellow, a sign of negligence and decay? I need mirrors, reflections deep and illuminating, true and reverberating, not in myself, but in another or others, without fear of destiny's hand always hovering. a touch of truth, of a nature genuine, of a brush in hand, of a painter's ploy or plea to sanity, to draw an answer human to all the questions plaguing me..
11.26.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Wow, almost 3 weeks since my last post. I seem to be getting into an older framework of posting. Not bad I guess. On a brighter front, I have the next few days off. What is there left to write here that hasn't already met its solution in the real non-digital world? Not much I imagine. It's been impressed upon me that I need to be married. Duh, this notion's been true for a while now. Too bad there simply isn't a large variety of people to choose from. What I need is like a scripted scene from a movie, where a million apparently inconsequential events fall in place...and poof I see the girl of my dreams. How often do movies play out in people's lives like that? o_O
Not often I think. But, being as odd and different as I am, I guess I've beaten the odds (ha ha pun) once already, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to see a train of happenings along those lines..
mmm, I think I'll go watch some mov's.
Wow, almost 3 weeks since my last post. I seem to be getting into an older framework of posting. Not bad I guess. On a brighter front, I have the next few days off. What is there left to write here that hasn't already met its solution in the real non-digital world? Not much I imagine. It's been impressed upon me that I need to be married. Duh, this notion's been true for a while now. Too bad there simply isn't a large variety of people to choose from. What I need is like a scripted scene from a movie, where a million apparently inconsequential events fall in place...and poof I see the girl of my dreams. How often do movies play out in people's lives like that? o_O
Not often I think. But, being as odd and different as I am, I guess I've beaten the odds (ha ha pun) once already, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to see a train of happenings along those lines..
mmm, I think I'll go watch some mov's.
11.06.2008
- in the name of Allah -
This past Tuesday was one of the most fateful and significant days in American history. Besides being a day of many different firsts, it held symbolism for a new and hopeful restoration/improvement of policies and quality of living. No, we do not know what our destiny is, where we will meet our end or even from where we may derive sustenance. But, that does not stop the current of eventuality from taking us in and showing us what we did not know or could not suspect.
Among more personal and closer-to-home matters, a few recent events remind me of the binding similarity between my recent and prior experiences. It is not that life is a circle, per se, inevitably coming back to the same conundrum or falling back into the same loop one may have known before. Life is, as a friend once put it, quite linear. That we can experience deja vu is simply a testament to how well we internalize past events into our being and pick up on the nuances of what they mean for us. To summarize a case in point, I knew, in a scenario not 2 months old, that age might matter, that being a college freshman was a reason unto itself to indicate a high probability of drastic, random, unpredictable change. I gave the idea a chance, and it broke a few preconceptions of mine, reminding me that people alike can exist, perhaps as strange and unique as myself. This is reason enough to continue searching, keeping the books open, heart and mind gazing incessantly skyward to the only place I ever thought I belonged.
This past Tuesday was one of the most fateful and significant days in American history. Besides being a day of many different firsts, it held symbolism for a new and hopeful restoration/improvement of policies and quality of living. No, we do not know what our destiny is, where we will meet our end or even from where we may derive sustenance. But, that does not stop the current of eventuality from taking us in and showing us what we did not know or could not suspect.
Among more personal and closer-to-home matters, a few recent events remind me of the binding similarity between my recent and prior experiences. It is not that life is a circle, per se, inevitably coming back to the same conundrum or falling back into the same loop one may have known before. Life is, as a friend once put it, quite linear. That we can experience deja vu is simply a testament to how well we internalize past events into our being and pick up on the nuances of what they mean for us. To summarize a case in point, I knew, in a scenario not 2 months old, that age might matter, that being a college freshman was a reason unto itself to indicate a high probability of drastic, random, unpredictable change. I gave the idea a chance, and it broke a few preconceptions of mine, reminding me that people alike can exist, perhaps as strange and unique as myself. This is reason enough to continue searching, keeping the books open, heart and mind gazing incessantly skyward to the only place I ever thought I belonged.
10.30.2008
- in the name of Allah -
I haven't written so 'frequently' in a very long time, more than I can remember. Why am I back here again? Well, I don't really know. Fate has granted me yet another twist in what is already perhaps one of the strangest novels of truth ever pre-written.
It isn't as if I had concocted hope from a kettle of remote possibility, but it was merely the aroma of of 'maybe', the links of commonality that created more intrigue than need for caution. It was nice to have. Where is it now? I'm not sure, but I am not far from where I began. My gut experiences a twinge of sorrow, an upheaval of infinitesimal dismay that over time I've come to regard as reality's herald. For one such as me, a nomad trying to find his way in life, there are few roads made of concrete, most are paved with dreams. It is, perhaps simply, not my in destiny to follow each and every dream that graces my conscience, but that may be wherein the beauty lies: I can know of a thing, become familiar with its core, and ultimately find a medium of laissez faire where it is better to see than to touch.
I am not fated to have (for now) that which may reach my soul so easily, that which moves me as Allah's will moves mountains - as easily as dust blown by wind. Many fronts and angles and directions appear to me, each wanting its own private audience; on one hand is rebellious defiance, preaching its discourse of near anarchy from every constraining fiber of my being; on another hand is a temperate breeze, who nods in wisdom at the coming of such an event and knows that the only path to take is the one that goes forward with self-moderation; and there are other hands, some of Satan, some of angelic origin, that propel me this way or that. But like all nomads, I have only to keep with the wind as it sails, away from one typhoon into the arms of another.
I haven't written so 'frequently' in a very long time, more than I can remember. Why am I back here again? Well, I don't really know. Fate has granted me yet another twist in what is already perhaps one of the strangest novels of truth ever pre-written.
It isn't as if I had concocted hope from a kettle of remote possibility, but it was merely the aroma of of 'maybe', the links of commonality that created more intrigue than need for caution. It was nice to have. Where is it now? I'm not sure, but I am not far from where I began. My gut experiences a twinge of sorrow, an upheaval of infinitesimal dismay that over time I've come to regard as reality's herald. For one such as me, a nomad trying to find his way in life, there are few roads made of concrete, most are paved with dreams. It is, perhaps simply, not my in destiny to follow each and every dream that graces my conscience, but that may be wherein the beauty lies: I can know of a thing, become familiar with its core, and ultimately find a medium of laissez faire where it is better to see than to touch.
I am not fated to have (for now) that which may reach my soul so easily, that which moves me as Allah's will moves mountains - as easily as dust blown by wind. Many fronts and angles and directions appear to me, each wanting its own private audience; on one hand is rebellious defiance, preaching its discourse of near anarchy from every constraining fiber of my being; on another hand is a temperate breeze, who nods in wisdom at the coming of such an event and knows that the only path to take is the one that goes forward with self-moderation; and there are other hands, some of Satan, some of angelic origin, that propel me this way or that. But like all nomads, I have only to keep with the wind as it sails, away from one typhoon into the arms of another.
10.29.2008
- in the name of Allah -
my being, my trail
if I think therefore I am, then if I think often, do I become more than what I was before? if my mass remains unchanged, and the chemical reactions balanced, how does my neural net defy the laws of matter, and lead to growth when nothing else has lessened? in this galaxy of ours are planets diversified, each of different composition, each of different lives. how would a comet find a direction in which to lean? would it be simply an issue of gravitating to the largest sphere, or would it try to choose another path, with an end not so clear? would it follow the path of most comets, and find its fate in fiery sun? perhaps a road might open, using its momentum, to carry it past the paths dull and ineffective, a refreshing take on an age-old question. I wonder of the trail that comet might leave, if it would tell the tale of an icy haven found, or an oven's sickly warm reprieve..
my being, my trail
if I think therefore I am, then if I think often, do I become more than what I was before? if my mass remains unchanged, and the chemical reactions balanced, how does my neural net defy the laws of matter, and lead to growth when nothing else has lessened? in this galaxy of ours are planets diversified, each of different composition, each of different lives. how would a comet find a direction in which to lean? would it be simply an issue of gravitating to the largest sphere, or would it try to choose another path, with an end not so clear? would it follow the path of most comets, and find its fate in fiery sun? perhaps a road might open, using its momentum, to carry it past the paths dull and ineffective, a refreshing take on an age-old question. I wonder of the trail that comet might leave, if it would tell the tale of an icy haven found, or an oven's sickly warm reprieve..
10.25.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Time is one of the most treasured resources we have. It flies by without being noticed, but never does it complain that we never held it in good company or overlooked it while we 'lived' life away in blissful merriment. It watches and marches forward in silence during the moments we think have achieved nirvana...but still we have the very same obstacles as yesterday, our own selves. While our attention is so diverted to our own egos, time does not gripe about how we have not given it its due, it does not whine or resist when we bend its use into something less than pure or less than noble. So why do we take so little care of it? Why is it like the blue background of the sky on a sunny day, when we forget to stop and notice how serene the moment is?
People are inherently tumultuous. Even if they believe they have found their logical or moral banner under which to champion their colors, chaos is but a step outside those precious boundaries. What of it? If we cannot find our own boundaries for ourselves, if we cannot bridge the seams between our hopes and our daily lives, then the framework of who we are is bound to collapse some day.
Insanity is probably more common than statistics let on, as the underside of society has a multitude of outlets designed simply so that people may forget their problems and continue to exist despite the fact their lives has lost any meaning. I doubt that a drunken stupor really holds much place for dreams, and without that expression, just how much can be felt or seen that isn't as we would have it be?
Time is one of the most treasured resources we have. It flies by without being noticed, but never does it complain that we never held it in good company or overlooked it while we 'lived' life away in blissful merriment. It watches and marches forward in silence during the moments we think have achieved nirvana...but still we have the very same obstacles as yesterday, our own selves. While our attention is so diverted to our own egos, time does not gripe about how we have not given it its due, it does not whine or resist when we bend its use into something less than pure or less than noble. So why do we take so little care of it? Why is it like the blue background of the sky on a sunny day, when we forget to stop and notice how serene the moment is?
People are inherently tumultuous. Even if they believe they have found their logical or moral banner under which to champion their colors, chaos is but a step outside those precious boundaries. What of it? If we cannot find our own boundaries for ourselves, if we cannot bridge the seams between our hopes and our daily lives, then the framework of who we are is bound to collapse some day.
Insanity is probably more common than statistics let on, as the underside of society has a multitude of outlets designed simply so that people may forget their problems and continue to exist despite the fact their lives has lost any meaning. I doubt that a drunken stupor really holds much place for dreams, and without that expression, just how much can be felt or seen that isn't as we would have it be?
10.18.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Are we always destined to make the same mistakes over and over? Is life truly the circular path that we end up back again where we thought we started it all in the first place? I know, rhetorical questions don't really have a place in this day and age. Answers are like gold; everyone's searching for it but it's one of the most precious things that most people don't have.
Despite people reaching out to me, I resist. I do not necessarily pull back but there exists a void whose blanket of obscurity I cannot penetrate. This void is mainly defined as the future. I know not what it holds for me, but I find myself ever-desirous, as usual. What becomes of a time one hopes for, but to the moment he thinks of it, it is a time that remains elusive, hiding behind a corner appearing a million miles away? Do we retain optimism in times of hardship, or do we react as clams and shell up when the tides come again to change our paths in the sand one more time? I don't know which path is wiser, whether to be protected and yet have missed out on a chance, or risk the sleeve and possibly end up with a naked soul. My need for deen persists through my evolution, continually invoking its purpose in tranquility. I seem unable, however, to use that need for deen to mold my actions and emotions. Chance leads the 'next thing on the list of whenever', my schedule these days.
/ / /
falling while wishing to fly, paradoxical whims buttressed in reality's lie, careful weaves of letters no longer enable but only fetter the wave building within a soul full to brim with the idiotic nuances of holding the philosopher's stone - but tied to the ground, bound to the fate of a mortal, oh-so-human drone. too many needles in the haystack, I've lost blood before, hesitant to lose more hemoglobin, if I don't get that rush I fear I may perish still to oxygen malnutrition. there's a reason why I might speed driving the highways of life's intermittent disguises of distraction and badly-written surmises: speeds 100+ remind me of flying, from the top down or down up, it doesn't matter as the wind has my back even if I hiccup and my momentum staggers. free, free like the wind that isn't bound to the ground, but open and ever-expanding to fill the space of wherever it can reach. but I am not made of gas, but solid, molecules firmly entrenched into a pattern I've come to despise, wanting, wishing, always in the back of my mind, a thought to fly and leave this petty world behind..
Are we always destined to make the same mistakes over and over? Is life truly the circular path that we end up back again where we thought we started it all in the first place? I know, rhetorical questions don't really have a place in this day and age. Answers are like gold; everyone's searching for it but it's one of the most precious things that most people don't have.
Despite people reaching out to me, I resist. I do not necessarily pull back but there exists a void whose blanket of obscurity I cannot penetrate. This void is mainly defined as the future. I know not what it holds for me, but I find myself ever-desirous, as usual. What becomes of a time one hopes for, but to the moment he thinks of it, it is a time that remains elusive, hiding behind a corner appearing a million miles away? Do we retain optimism in times of hardship, or do we react as clams and shell up when the tides come again to change our paths in the sand one more time? I don't know which path is wiser, whether to be protected and yet have missed out on a chance, or risk the sleeve and possibly end up with a naked soul. My need for deen persists through my evolution, continually invoking its purpose in tranquility. I seem unable, however, to use that need for deen to mold my actions and emotions. Chance leads the 'next thing on the list of whenever', my schedule these days.
/ / /
falling while wishing to fly, paradoxical whims buttressed in reality's lie, careful weaves of letters no longer enable but only fetter the wave building within a soul full to brim with the idiotic nuances of holding the philosopher's stone - but tied to the ground, bound to the fate of a mortal, oh-so-human drone. too many needles in the haystack, I've lost blood before, hesitant to lose more hemoglobin, if I don't get that rush I fear I may perish still to oxygen malnutrition. there's a reason why I might speed driving the highways of life's intermittent disguises of distraction and badly-written surmises: speeds 100+ remind me of flying, from the top down or down up, it doesn't matter as the wind has my back even if I hiccup and my momentum staggers. free, free like the wind that isn't bound to the ground, but open and ever-expanding to fill the space of wherever it can reach. but I am not made of gas, but solid, molecules firmly entrenched into a pattern I've come to despise, wanting, wishing, always in the back of my mind, a thought to fly and leave this petty world behind..
10.09.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Wow, it's been a month since I last posted here. Good thing someone reminded me to, or else it might've stretched out to 2 months and I could have possibly forgotten everything..but alas, I have not forgotten, so here I am.
While it is true that I am human and as such possess most of the typically human desires and ambitions, it also remains true that I made an oath when I was younger, far more naive and innocent. I had seen others grow up and develop questionable nuances to their personality, accept notions that, barring acceptance by others, they would have never accepted. I knew I would never want to be one of them. To be a common man, a plebeian who walked the path of everyone and repeated everything they said, I couldn't be. Whether it be arrogance, or fitrah, or presumptuousness, or the like, I have always held myself above those ideas and their practice.
So it remains that I walk, or at least foreshadow, my road in the clouds and a steady current forward. I should hope (and pray) that the road I am on does lead me to flounder, because it's so easy to release one's self from the constraints of heaven and so easily put on the reins of hell.
Among other mysteries, I wonder why some females are more inclined to bitchiness than others. Rudimentary manners should be a pre-requisite test for all women (and men) who want to be married, or imagine themselves to be in a position of being. Oh well, I guess not all people were created equally (or at least, end up that way).
Wow, it's been a month since I last posted here. Good thing someone reminded me to, or else it might've stretched out to 2 months and I could have possibly forgotten everything..but alas, I have not forgotten, so here I am.
While it is true that I am human and as such possess most of the typically human desires and ambitions, it also remains true that I made an oath when I was younger, far more naive and innocent. I had seen others grow up and develop questionable nuances to their personality, accept notions that, barring acceptance by others, they would have never accepted. I knew I would never want to be one of them. To be a common man, a plebeian who walked the path of everyone and repeated everything they said, I couldn't be. Whether it be arrogance, or fitrah, or presumptuousness, or the like, I have always held myself above those ideas and their practice.
So it remains that I walk, or at least foreshadow, my road in the clouds and a steady current forward. I should hope (and pray) that the road I am on does lead me to flounder, because it's so easy to release one's self from the constraints of heaven and so easily put on the reins of hell.
Among other mysteries, I wonder why some females are more inclined to bitchiness than others. Rudimentary manners should be a pre-requisite test for all women (and men) who want to be married, or imagine themselves to be in a position of being. Oh well, I guess not all people were created equally (or at least, end up that way).
9.24.2008
- in the name of Allah -
On the edge of a precipice I can't quite define, I wonder when the rains will come to wash away all these thoughts that were never really mine. How much control over fate do we truly have when what I feel I cannot help but only bait for another time? It isn't destiny that's been preoccupied with me, but a tendency to need and hold that only seems an open sore prone to bleed.
Would I broach the sheer boundary, of a line never crossed before? Could there be return, from where all caution flies to wind, and the moment holds sway and nothing more? My instincts to play it safe and leave the doubtful at bay just don't mean as much as they did yesterday. It's as if a tuner was finally tuned to a wave that brought it to its knees, that all the deeds that it thought would save it became only fodder for excuses to explain why it was missing the very thing it needed most.
If these bits of computer code could be transmitted like radio waves, I'd send a may-day to every corner of the galaxy, searching without fail for the second half to a puzzle barely gleaned complete while submerged in loligags of a soundless daydream.
/start_radio_transmission
*fuzzy crackle* Come in, second half, come in. We have found home base, over. I repeat, we have found home base. *fuzzy crackle*
/end_radio_transmission
On the edge of a precipice I can't quite define, I wonder when the rains will come to wash away all these thoughts that were never really mine. How much control over fate do we truly have when what I feel I cannot help but only bait for another time? It isn't destiny that's been preoccupied with me, but a tendency to need and hold that only seems an open sore prone to bleed.
Would I broach the sheer boundary, of a line never crossed before? Could there be return, from where all caution flies to wind, and the moment holds sway and nothing more? My instincts to play it safe and leave the doubtful at bay just don't mean as much as they did yesterday. It's as if a tuner was finally tuned to a wave that brought it to its knees, that all the deeds that it thought would save it became only fodder for excuses to explain why it was missing the very thing it needed most.
If these bits of computer code could be transmitted like radio waves, I'd send a may-day to every corner of the galaxy, searching without fail for the second half to a puzzle barely gleaned complete while submerged in loligags of a soundless daydream.
/start_radio_transmission
*fuzzy crackle* Come in, second half, come in. We have found home base, over. I repeat, we have found home base. *fuzzy crackle*
/end_radio_transmission
9.14.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Falling leaves, changing shades, when time fades away, just what parts of me remain? My corners to turn are few, counting minutes diminished without chance of redemption, I grasp at straws hoping for just a little of happiness' retention.
Skies laden with rain carry their burden so much better than I, my thunderclouds evaporate in the face of opposing fronts that only magnify when the assumptions lie. Every new tide brings the same scent, the same tumult, my ways to overcome suddenly lost in the commotion and the potential threat of any realization not yet learned but waiting on the doorstep of regret.
I can't change what's past, I'm disarmed for the future, I only meddle in the present, wandering, searching for someone, something, to shake off the cobwebs that occupy the corners of my mind. The world, a teapot bordering on boiling, unable to release its pressure, it seeks constant ways of self-destructive convenience. It holds no candle for my wind, no methane for my flame, no scent for my bloodhound to chase incessantly in pursuit of purpose and dream.
What a sad, sad reality, that has us make our dreams in wax, and then live our lives clutching candlelight with nothing else, in a moonless, cloudless sky - the longer we stand, the more they melt and dissolve into something no longer recognized.
Falling leaves, changing shades, when time fades away, just what parts of me remain? My corners to turn are few, counting minutes diminished without chance of redemption, I grasp at straws hoping for just a little of happiness' retention.
Skies laden with rain carry their burden so much better than I, my thunderclouds evaporate in the face of opposing fronts that only magnify when the assumptions lie. Every new tide brings the same scent, the same tumult, my ways to overcome suddenly lost in the commotion and the potential threat of any realization not yet learned but waiting on the doorstep of regret.
I can't change what's past, I'm disarmed for the future, I only meddle in the present, wandering, searching for someone, something, to shake off the cobwebs that occupy the corners of my mind. The world, a teapot bordering on boiling, unable to release its pressure, it seeks constant ways of self-destructive convenience. It holds no candle for my wind, no methane for my flame, no scent for my bloodhound to chase incessantly in pursuit of purpose and dream.
What a sad, sad reality, that has us make our dreams in wax, and then live our lives clutching candlelight with nothing else, in a moonless, cloudless sky - the longer we stand, the more they melt and dissolve into something no longer recognized.
9.04.2008
- in the name of Allah -
So another Ramadan is upon us. The time of year that changes everything, where people who were averse to good become suddenly converted, where the forces that pull us down dubious paths are no longer there and the only forces left to affect us become what we will of our own souls. Speaking of which, how do we find out what we truly want? Must we falter before gaining a foothold on the nature of our soul, or can the path less travelled be traversed without the gore and banter? I am inclined to think that there is no easy solution to the problems that plague existence, that try us to the core of our being. Someone once said that the best things tend to cost the most, in so many ways more than monetarily. Does that mean to achieve the Garden we must experience a catharsis that continually refines us until we are pure enough for it? I guess most of these questions are at their root rhetorical, that I already know their answers. Why then, would I care to post them here? Well, better here than incessantly in my head I reckon.
-to be finished later-
Life is grand, diverse, and full of many arms and many goals. Each one can pull you one direction or another, but the real test is to know inside where one belongs. Do we cave in to pressure, and call it quits right before the curtains close, or will we press the point and hold our own until the future gives our effort shape?
Among all these things, I know who I am. That knowledge, is completely inescapable to me. I cannot run from it, I cannot avoid it, I cannot do anything but accept it despite how the innards of the soul might ache to be free like the wind. I can't fly, I can't soar in the skies like the birds and flies. I live on land, bi-ped and all, waiting for my shake on reality, making a mark barely visible but so difficult it took all of me to make.
I find that I want to be around people. All people, not necessarily, but people in general. My ideas are becoming stale, my progression as a human being is slowing, and I find that ignorance runs rampantly hand in hand with complacency. I need to know what they think, how they think, not necessarily to change or be changed, but to ascertain, to delve a little deeper beyond the surface and find an answer to life for myself. We were created to worship our Creator, that is a given and simply cannot change. What grand details remain is how we choose to play the cards in our hand that we are dealt, whether we choose to fold, or press onward, knowing that indeed, there is nothing better than a bluff worth making to the rest of the world when they think it all a farce.
So another Ramadan is upon us. The time of year that changes everything, where people who were averse to good become suddenly converted, where the forces that pull us down dubious paths are no longer there and the only forces left to affect us become what we will of our own souls. Speaking of which, how do we find out what we truly want? Must we falter before gaining a foothold on the nature of our soul, or can the path less travelled be traversed without the gore and banter? I am inclined to think that there is no easy solution to the problems that plague existence, that try us to the core of our being. Someone once said that the best things tend to cost the most, in so many ways more than monetarily. Does that mean to achieve the Garden we must experience a catharsis that continually refines us until we are pure enough for it? I guess most of these questions are at their root rhetorical, that I already know their answers. Why then, would I care to post them here? Well, better here than incessantly in my head I reckon.
-to be finished later-
Life is grand, diverse, and full of many arms and many goals. Each one can pull you one direction or another, but the real test is to know inside where one belongs. Do we cave in to pressure, and call it quits right before the curtains close, or will we press the point and hold our own until the future gives our effort shape?
Among all these things, I know who I am. That knowledge, is completely inescapable to me. I cannot run from it, I cannot avoid it, I cannot do anything but accept it despite how the innards of the soul might ache to be free like the wind. I can't fly, I can't soar in the skies like the birds and flies. I live on land, bi-ped and all, waiting for my shake on reality, making a mark barely visible but so difficult it took all of me to make.
I find that I want to be around people. All people, not necessarily, but people in general. My ideas are becoming stale, my progression as a human being is slowing, and I find that ignorance runs rampantly hand in hand with complacency. I need to know what they think, how they think, not necessarily to change or be changed, but to ascertain, to delve a little deeper beyond the surface and find an answer to life for myself. We were created to worship our Creator, that is a given and simply cannot change. What grand details remain is how we choose to play the cards in our hand that we are dealt, whether we choose to fold, or press onward, knowing that indeed, there is nothing better than a bluff worth making to the rest of the world when they think it all a farce.
8.01.2008
- in the name of Allah -
We don't always need an external stimulus to come to places like these and give ink to our thoughts, sometimes an internal probe is all that's necessary to dig underneath the surface and find the real reason behind a certain train of events.
Do we realize the struggle of parentage in caring and providing for their offspring? Can we really fathom how difficult their struggles are compared to our own? They have a myriad of concerns that we can only imagine, but the reality of is truly so much more. Financially, emotionally, psychologically, familially, mentally, sociologically, and the list goes on in the kinds of ways that our interaction with our parents influences our daily lives, certainly how often we see them contributes to this. But what is the end result of all this preponderance? What is the conclusion I am trying to or have inevitably reached?
It is that among the greatest blessings and good fortune that can possibly be bestowed upon a human being is that of having truly, 'good' parents. They care, they attempt to teach and pass on the lessons they have learned to their children, they provide for them a means unto adulthood and self-sufficiency, in ways so much more profound than mere finance. If one did not have good parentage, then how easy can it be for him or her to find the straight path, to be able to see a ray of light while bathed in darkness? It is very hard, to say the least. It becomes a matter up to the integrity and nature of the soul that would resist such forces, and strive to rise no matter the lineage.
Still, we have to be grateful to our Creator, who made us and blessed us in ways that we see and in ways we couldn't dream of. Cognizance of these reminders, internalization of their meaning, is perhaps one of the doorways to heaven, a heaven everyone's seeking but so few find.
We don't always need an external stimulus to come to places like these and give ink to our thoughts, sometimes an internal probe is all that's necessary to dig underneath the surface and find the real reason behind a certain train of events.
Do we realize the struggle of parentage in caring and providing for their offspring? Can we really fathom how difficult their struggles are compared to our own? They have a myriad of concerns that we can only imagine, but the reality of is truly so much more. Financially, emotionally, psychologically, familially, mentally, sociologically, and the list goes on in the kinds of ways that our interaction with our parents influences our daily lives, certainly how often we see them contributes to this. But what is the end result of all this preponderance? What is the conclusion I am trying to or have inevitably reached?
It is that among the greatest blessings and good fortune that can possibly be bestowed upon a human being is that of having truly, 'good' parents. They care, they attempt to teach and pass on the lessons they have learned to their children, they provide for them a means unto adulthood and self-sufficiency, in ways so much more profound than mere finance. If one did not have good parentage, then how easy can it be for him or her to find the straight path, to be able to see a ray of light while bathed in darkness? It is very hard, to say the least. It becomes a matter up to the integrity and nature of the soul that would resist such forces, and strive to rise no matter the lineage.
Still, we have to be grateful to our Creator, who made us and blessed us in ways that we see and in ways we couldn't dream of. Cognizance of these reminders, internalization of their meaning, is perhaps one of the doorways to heaven, a heaven everyone's seeking but so few find.
7.30.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Due to popular demand, I have decided to give in to my adoring fans and furnish their otherwise rudimentary lives with a spectacular post from none other than..myself. I hope this will satisfy them, at least until I post again. :-d
Ah, such superb self-inflation of one's ego, done nigh effortlessly with a touch of sarcastic irony to brighten what ordinarily might have been ordinary..
Anyways, on to more serious things. Yesterday I had what was arguably the worst migraine ever. With pounding ferocity it clouded the mind and pushed out any and every other thought I tried to formulate. Naturally, I began internally debating the merits of life and death and how sleep was the tantalizing alternative of in-between that any insane insomniac would kill for. It was ironic then, after knowing a certain friend who exclaimed on their blog to possess an "affinity for Tylenol PM", I would decide to try a few for myself.
Alh, I managed to find some restful sleep and temperance for the incessant throb in the back of my head. Of course, none of this could possibly have happened without me trying to analyze for what fateful purpose I was to be graced with an exacerbating migraine.
Why is it usually that we are tried as human beings, as Muslims? Is it because of something we have or haven't done, or is it a random occurrence that cannot be explained but only endured? I venture to guess it is a mix of the two, mainly because as human beings our knowledge of what happens is so limited by our physical senses, and that it may well be simply a test to gauge our patience. Whatever the reality of it might be, I know that therein was a certain lesson, a certain flavor to be derived, that when mixed in the right doses with life, can prove an antidote for those most inescapable moments where, in an infitesimal minute, life tangoes with death and the value of one versus the other is determined.
Due to popular demand, I have decided to give in to my adoring fans and furnish their otherwise rudimentary lives with a spectacular post from none other than..myself. I hope this will satisfy them, at least until I post again. :-d
Ah, such superb self-inflation of one's ego, done nigh effortlessly with a touch of sarcastic irony to brighten what ordinarily might have been ordinary..
Anyways, on to more serious things. Yesterday I had what was arguably the worst migraine ever. With pounding ferocity it clouded the mind and pushed out any and every other thought I tried to formulate. Naturally, I began internally debating the merits of life and death and how sleep was the tantalizing alternative of in-between that any insane insomniac would kill for. It was ironic then, after knowing a certain friend who exclaimed on their blog to possess an "affinity for Tylenol PM", I would decide to try a few for myself.
Alh, I managed to find some restful sleep and temperance for the incessant throb in the back of my head. Of course, none of this could possibly have happened without me trying to analyze for what fateful purpose I was to be graced with an exacerbating migraine.
Why is it usually that we are tried as human beings, as Muslims? Is it because of something we have or haven't done, or is it a random occurrence that cannot be explained but only endured? I venture to guess it is a mix of the two, mainly because as human beings our knowledge of what happens is so limited by our physical senses, and that it may well be simply a test to gauge our patience. Whatever the reality of it might be, I know that therein was a certain lesson, a certain flavor to be derived, that when mixed in the right doses with life, can prove an antidote for those most inescapable moments where, in an infitesimal minute, life tangoes with death and the value of one versus the other is determined.
7.22.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Here I am, back again, to continue the semi-chronicle of something I can only describe as fated and inevitable. At times, we can see the blessings rain down on us from the sky, and the obvious moment for us to express our gratefulness to our Sustainer dawns on us. What about the times when such blessings are not so apparent? Would we resolve ourselves to a pit of self-created exile from the very force which we, cognizantly or not, need most?
I've always, throughout most of my adult life, held firmly to the notion that I am blessed, blessed in knowing so many likable people, so many personable people, blessed in knowing that every day I have ever lived has served a particular purpose, whether it was evident in its moment or posthumously, it was there to be a reminder, to bring me on course in a journey that dawns on me as clearly now as a morning sunrise. My end, my real goal, my real desire, is something of an egg, an egg that grew with the care of adolescent idealism, an egg that hatched from the realization of purpose that is timeless. This egg, if it is to bloom, would show me nothing but my window to paradise, the only real window I've ever wanted. In it, is a place that finally matches the freedom-seeking nature of my soul with the capability and actuality of attaining that freedom. I can be free there, find my better half well acquainted, and come to know what I knew all along, alh.
I don't need to necessarily forgo the pleasures of this life, but I will, for all but the most basic I need for survival. There are greater things, greater objectives to be held up by the glorious light emanating from my Lord, than mediocre desires rooted in a world of temporal limitation. ....yeah, I know, keep it simple, but let's not forget I'm not yet married...lol ^_*
Here I am, back again, to continue the semi-chronicle of something I can only describe as fated and inevitable. At times, we can see the blessings rain down on us from the sky, and the obvious moment for us to express our gratefulness to our Sustainer dawns on us. What about the times when such blessings are not so apparent? Would we resolve ourselves to a pit of self-created exile from the very force which we, cognizantly or not, need most?
I've always, throughout most of my adult life, held firmly to the notion that I am blessed, blessed in knowing so many likable people, so many personable people, blessed in knowing that every day I have ever lived has served a particular purpose, whether it was evident in its moment or posthumously, it was there to be a reminder, to bring me on course in a journey that dawns on me as clearly now as a morning sunrise. My end, my real goal, my real desire, is something of an egg, an egg that grew with the care of adolescent idealism, an egg that hatched from the realization of purpose that is timeless. This egg, if it is to bloom, would show me nothing but my window to paradise, the only real window I've ever wanted. In it, is a place that finally matches the freedom-seeking nature of my soul with the capability and actuality of attaining that freedom. I can be free there, find my better half well acquainted, and come to know what I knew all along, alh.
I don't need to necessarily forgo the pleasures of this life, but I will, for all but the most basic I need for survival. There are greater things, greater objectives to be held up by the glorious light emanating from my Lord, than mediocre desires rooted in a world of temporal limitation. ....yeah, I know, keep it simple, but let's not forget I'm not yet married...lol ^_*
7.16.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Without a doubt these are strange times. Then again, there isn't a moment in my life that I can recall as being completely normal. Who cares, normal is for the ordinary, and that, whether for better or worse, is something I have never considered myself as.
I don't think I've ever known a clarity so clear as this. What exactly do I see, when my mind is not hindered by cloudy visions? My purpose forms to me, slowly, with little shape at first, but then I know what it is exactly that I must become. What is this epiphany, this realization of the end of one's existential crisis? It is that, no matter what may happen, no matter the love I may lose or the pleasure I may gain, I will always end up back to knowing my Creator. What brings me to Him? What is this propellant force that guides me along my sine-wave of a life? I am not entirely sure, but it is belief. Some how, some way, my belief has carried me throughout my life, and at no time has this been clearer than now. The root causes of ungratefulness, of disbelief, of hypocrisy, of malice, all seem so clear to me, and thankfully, so minute. It's as if for the first time in a long time, I can recall having conquered a demon in my soul that leapt at every chance it could get. There's a certain peace in giving up something of one's wants. I would say "giving up one's wants", but I do not deny that I am created human, and that I will desire regardless of whether or not I wish to control it. What I do with it, however, is something I have some measure of say-so in.
Particularly, it is giving up of people, specifically some women, that I have come to know over the passage of time. Some have been married, some have moved away, others pursue their dreams of making a better life for themselves and their families. I find that often my dreams of knowing them and being with them end up conflicting with their own. How so? It is because through knowing me, through truly understanding who I am, one cannot but be changed through it, and affect change in myself, howsoever slight it may be for them or I. Were they to fit into my plans, their own would change, and what they had held dear, would no longer be of use to them. Am I saying that I require deep sacrifice from the one I would marry? Of course not. I just carry the burden of truth, of knowing what my Rabb demands of me, and I do not attempt to make excuses why I do not or cannot follow His commands. I try; if I fail, then I simply repent and continue forward. There is no other path for me to take. Long ago I decided that a life of eternity and everlasting awesomeness was preferable to a short gain or short pleasure; why love for a few years, when you can love forever?
Such simple words, such dramatic meaning..
Without a doubt these are strange times. Then again, there isn't a moment in my life that I can recall as being completely normal. Who cares, normal is for the ordinary, and that, whether for better or worse, is something I have never considered myself as.
I don't think I've ever known a clarity so clear as this. What exactly do I see, when my mind is not hindered by cloudy visions? My purpose forms to me, slowly, with little shape at first, but then I know what it is exactly that I must become. What is this epiphany, this realization of the end of one's existential crisis? It is that, no matter what may happen, no matter the love I may lose or the pleasure I may gain, I will always end up back to knowing my Creator. What brings me to Him? What is this propellant force that guides me along my sine-wave of a life? I am not entirely sure, but it is belief. Some how, some way, my belief has carried me throughout my life, and at no time has this been clearer than now. The root causes of ungratefulness, of disbelief, of hypocrisy, of malice, all seem so clear to me, and thankfully, so minute. It's as if for the first time in a long time, I can recall having conquered a demon in my soul that leapt at every chance it could get. There's a certain peace in giving up something of one's wants. I would say "giving up one's wants", but I do not deny that I am created human, and that I will desire regardless of whether or not I wish to control it. What I do with it, however, is something I have some measure of say-so in.
Particularly, it is giving up of people, specifically some women, that I have come to know over the passage of time. Some have been married, some have moved away, others pursue their dreams of making a better life for themselves and their families. I find that often my dreams of knowing them and being with them end up conflicting with their own. How so? It is because through knowing me, through truly understanding who I am, one cannot but be changed through it, and affect change in myself, howsoever slight it may be for them or I. Were they to fit into my plans, their own would change, and what they had held dear, would no longer be of use to them. Am I saying that I require deep sacrifice from the one I would marry? Of course not. I just carry the burden of truth, of knowing what my Rabb demands of me, and I do not attempt to make excuses why I do not or cannot follow His commands. I try; if I fail, then I simply repent and continue forward. There is no other path for me to take. Long ago I decided that a life of eternity and everlasting awesomeness was preferable to a short gain or short pleasure; why love for a few years, when you can love forever?
Such simple words, such dramatic meaning..
7.06.2008
- in the name of Allah -
This time, among others I have known, is like a window to my inside. Who will I become in the day ahead? Will I keep of me everything that already has been, or will I say "f___ it" and take a path never pondered, a path only mired in dread? In my vacation from my self, I've learned that we need to be who we are, but sometimes, an escape is necessary. Just be no one, someone else, something else, somewhere else, sometime gone or sometime not yet here. Everything but who we are supposed to be when we are supposed to be it.
Back on topic, I guess I'll get back on the road that I was on not 24 hours earlier.[interjection>>>] My God, how pervasive the human need for a companion is. It is just so...everywhere, all the time. It takes no break, even in silent peace, it's an undercurrent whose constant threat of drowning lurks just around the corner.
Pretty common themes throughout this blog, don't you think? O_O
This time, among others I have known, is like a window to my inside. Who will I become in the day ahead? Will I keep of me everything that already has been, or will I say "f___ it" and take a path never pondered, a path only mired in dread? In my vacation from my self, I've learned that we need to be who we are, but sometimes, an escape is necessary. Just be no one, someone else, something else, somewhere else, sometime gone or sometime not yet here. Everything but who we are supposed to be when we are supposed to be it.
Back on topic, I guess I'll get back on the road that I was on not 24 hours earlier.[interjection>>>] My God, how pervasive the human need for a companion is. It is just so...everywhere, all the time. It takes no break, even in silent peace, it's an undercurrent whose constant threat of drowning lurks just around the corner.
Pretty common themes throughout this blog, don't you think? O_O
7.01.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Often times it is that the things we want most are the very things we may never have. These things become for us the very trials that test us, that decide our mettle, that peruse our souls and see if indeed there is anything worthwhile inside.
I have a fallibility, among many others. I possess a heart which seeks attachment in ways so subtle, so intrinsic, that it gravitates towards certain places and certain people...without the benefit of cognizance. Leading my self astray...unknowingly. That is probably the scariest notion I've ever encountered. Yet, now that I am aware, the constant struggle of choices, of refrains, of proposes, does not do much to help the situation. I have to retain my self, my imaan, the core of my being that is presently being battered on a relatively daily basis. I quite easily realize why they say one should be married early. Granted, I'm still in my early 20's, but it would be better were it sooner than later. Moreso for my own nafs' and deen's sake than anything else. The issue isn't as simple or cut-and-dry as avoiding temptations. It isn't that. The problem is that there is a function of my soul, of my heart (and mind, to a lesser extent), that seeks out connections with people, typically female as they are easier to befriend (depending on circumstances). Not only does it seek this subconsciously, but it develops a bond with and supports this bond with rationalizations that stretch so far internally and externally, you would think I almost have a good reason for going down the wrong path. Shaitan loves to make the right path appear difficult, and the wrong path appear glittered in goodness and desirability. The problem that compounds this is that my soul does this unwittingly, without requiring a nudge, through only the simple fact that I need to be with someone I care about. Whether it just be with my crew, hanging out, or having a one-on-one with some woman I've come to know through necessary means (school), it is truly a compromising situation. Some of the things I've faced, I couldn't have imagined until they happened, and then I wonder to myself just how great a fitnah can truly be. I just ask Allah to guide me through it, to keep my heart intact for the one I marry, and to grant me the best of imaan on my deathbed; ameen ya Rabbal-'aalamin.
Often times it is that the things we want most are the very things we may never have. These things become for us the very trials that test us, that decide our mettle, that peruse our souls and see if indeed there is anything worthwhile inside.
I have a fallibility, among many others. I possess a heart which seeks attachment in ways so subtle, so intrinsic, that it gravitates towards certain places and certain people...without the benefit of cognizance. Leading my self astray...unknowingly. That is probably the scariest notion I've ever encountered. Yet, now that I am aware, the constant struggle of choices, of refrains, of proposes, does not do much to help the situation. I have to retain my self, my imaan, the core of my being that is presently being battered on a relatively daily basis. I quite easily realize why they say one should be married early. Granted, I'm still in my early 20's, but it would be better were it sooner than later. Moreso for my own nafs' and deen's sake than anything else. The issue isn't as simple or cut-and-dry as avoiding temptations. It isn't that. The problem is that there is a function of my soul, of my heart (and mind, to a lesser extent), that seeks out connections with people, typically female as they are easier to befriend (depending on circumstances). Not only does it seek this subconsciously, but it develops a bond with and supports this bond with rationalizations that stretch so far internally and externally, you would think I almost have a good reason for going down the wrong path. Shaitan loves to make the right path appear difficult, and the wrong path appear glittered in goodness and desirability. The problem that compounds this is that my soul does this unwittingly, without requiring a nudge, through only the simple fact that I need to be with someone I care about. Whether it just be with my crew, hanging out, or having a one-on-one with some woman I've come to know through necessary means (school), it is truly a compromising situation. Some of the things I've faced, I couldn't have imagined until they happened, and then I wonder to myself just how great a fitnah can truly be. I just ask Allah to guide me through it, to keep my heart intact for the one I marry, and to grant me the best of imaan on my deathbed; ameen ya Rabbal-'aalamin.
6.12.2008
- in the name of Allah -
It seems like I am fated to never get close to some people. Sure, the reasons for mismatch are there, different planets, different species, different dimensions, the list goes on. It doesn't stop the searching however, that goes on endlessly, subconsciously, without effort yet with the whole of one's soul behind it. I continue my search, without much effort, and no real idea of where exactly to look. There may be answers right under my nose, but I'm too smell-deaf to hear them.
Just what does it mean that another person is made for one's self? Where does that compatibility erupt from? Why do such notions continuously bubble forth from the essence of the soul, in ways I can't comprehend, but can only assert that it is true, and that it must exist. Love may be one of the most damned emotions ever given to mankind. I can't find it, only feel its need like a snake sneaking underneath my being. It's like needing clothes in a hurricane but only armed with an umbrella. Or maybe having a boxed car frame without an engine. Or maybe a plane flying in circles with only one wing.
Where art thou, oh separate wing of mine?
It seems like I am fated to never get close to some people. Sure, the reasons for mismatch are there, different planets, different species, different dimensions, the list goes on. It doesn't stop the searching however, that goes on endlessly, subconsciously, without effort yet with the whole of one's soul behind it. I continue my search, without much effort, and no real idea of where exactly to look. There may be answers right under my nose, but I'm too smell-deaf to hear them.
Just what does it mean that another person is made for one's self? Where does that compatibility erupt from? Why do such notions continuously bubble forth from the essence of the soul, in ways I can't comprehend, but can only assert that it is true, and that it must exist. Love may be one of the most damned emotions ever given to mankind. I can't find it, only feel its need like a snake sneaking underneath my being. It's like needing clothes in a hurricane but only armed with an umbrella. Or maybe having a boxed car frame without an engine. Or maybe a plane flying in circles with only one wing.
Where art thou, oh separate wing of mine?
5.28.2008
- in the name of Allah -
I saw this browsing through BBC, and I just couldn't pass it up..
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7422900.stm
"...Reports said King Gyanendra and Queen Komal were seen driving out of the royal palace on Tuesday afternoon, but it was not clear where they were going or for how long they would be gone."
LOL, with a hindu, reincarnated Vishnu, no less!
I saw this browsing through BBC, and I just couldn't pass it up..
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7422900.stm
"...Reports said King Gyanendra and Queen Komal were seen driving out of the royal palace on Tuesday afternoon, but it was not clear where they were going or for how long they would be gone."
LOL, with a hindu, reincarnated Vishnu, no less!
5.21.2008
- in the name of Allah -
sometimes the role we take is more important than the role we desired to play. it may not be that our own interests are served because of it, but surely, we gain more from it and feel better about it once something else is given preference to our own nafs. it's weird, that in a heart never preferential to malice or envy, it feels even less of these emotions than possible.
I can really only be there, as a "beloved spiritual nudger", "rock", "holyman", or whatever else is needed from me at the time. how utterly strange this part of my character is to me. a friend once described me as being the type of person that could be anything that another might need from me, whether it be space, an ear, a wall, an outlet, etc.
perhaps my role in this world isn't one who will find his 'one', but help many others find their way. could that be balanced, fair? in my opinion, perfectly so.
sometimes the role we take is more important than the role we desired to play. it may not be that our own interests are served because of it, but surely, we gain more from it and feel better about it once something else is given preference to our own nafs. it's weird, that in a heart never preferential to malice or envy, it feels even less of these emotions than possible.
I can really only be there, as a "beloved spiritual nudger", "rock", "holyman", or whatever else is needed from me at the time. how utterly strange this part of my character is to me. a friend once described me as being the type of person that could be anything that another might need from me, whether it be space, an ear, a wall, an outlet, etc.
perhaps my role in this world isn't one who will find his 'one', but help many others find their way. could that be balanced, fair? in my opinion, perfectly so.
5.16.2008
- in the name of Allah -
It's official: I have lost the power cord to this laptop. I am now writing and browsing on borrowed time. The battery icon tells me I have a few hours left, but not only is that not enough to last me, it probably isn't true either. My trillian is acting up and refusing to connect half the time, limiting my access to MSN, AIM, and other services which connect me to the outside world. Granted, I can open my front door and walk outside and I'd not have to worry about the outside world being too far. That would be dandy, if it wasn't for the fact that the outside world I'm looking for happens to be thousands of miles away; it might take a few years' walking/swimming distance. The last few posts I've made, don't seem to be so relevant presently. The stimulus for those outbursts of thought, seems now trapped in a different dimension, a different time. Imagine, a lifetime lived in two days' span. Possible? I might say so, if I can correctly interpret myself in these past few days. It wasn't that the light rain that fell wasn't enough to wash away the dust and debris, but the ground was so thirsty, it soaked it all up as soon as it fell. Who'da thunk it?
What's somewhat ironic is that as I read these lines I'm writing I notice an influence and essence that isn't my own, a style that I don't usually use. A kind of story-like narrative, sporadically sarcastic, noted for undertone and metaphor. My writing, my own personal writing, is direct and self-explanatory; to understand this, one would need a background manual. The notion is insidious, but just so subtly dramatic. Whatever. I have composed a few lines for the 27th, but I think I will have more, much more written by then. Who knows, maybe I'll finally be able write a masterpiece that I haven't felt the need to do for quite some time.
I think I'll go look for that power cord again.
It's official: I have lost the power cord to this laptop. I am now writing and browsing on borrowed time. The battery icon tells me I have a few hours left, but not only is that not enough to last me, it probably isn't true either. My trillian is acting up and refusing to connect half the time, limiting my access to MSN, AIM, and other services which connect me to the outside world. Granted, I can open my front door and walk outside and I'd not have to worry about the outside world being too far. That would be dandy, if it wasn't for the fact that the outside world I'm looking for happens to be thousands of miles away; it might take a few years' walking/swimming distance. The last few posts I've made, don't seem to be so relevant presently. The stimulus for those outbursts of thought, seems now trapped in a different dimension, a different time. Imagine, a lifetime lived in two days' span. Possible? I might say so, if I can correctly interpret myself in these past few days. It wasn't that the light rain that fell wasn't enough to wash away the dust and debris, but the ground was so thirsty, it soaked it all up as soon as it fell. Who'da thunk it?
What's somewhat ironic is that as I read these lines I'm writing I notice an influence and essence that isn't my own, a style that I don't usually use. A kind of story-like narrative, sporadically sarcastic, noted for undertone and metaphor. My writing, my own personal writing, is direct and self-explanatory; to understand this, one would need a background manual. The notion is insidious, but just so subtly dramatic. Whatever. I have composed a few lines for the 27th, but I think I will have more, much more written by then. Who knows, maybe I'll finally be able write a masterpiece that I haven't felt the need to do for quite some time.
I think I'll go look for that power cord again.
5.14.2008
- in the name of Allah -
for the first time in a long time, I am posting on consecutive days. interesting, the forces that compel me here, but relatively unremarkable in the grand scheme of things. I'm still fully digesting the events of yesterday, just what it means, just how I relate, just how far to invite a (former?) stranger inside a place where I allow few to go. the first step is already in motion. a blog that I've kept since one my more fateful years that has only a handful of posts but no viewers besides myself is now potentially open. why? I imagine it is for the purposes of understanding, and the completion thereof. suffice it to say, barring any unforeseen dramatic exits, this singularity will know much of me almost willingly or otherwise. lol
no, this is not a mirage of love, or some vain concoction like it. if I could try explaining this phenomenon, it would have to be an amalgamation of minds - the first time I can ever say it has happened with someone else. I need not say that I have been searching for some intellectual equal, male or female, from amongst mankind as long as I can remember. one who can write and understand, along somewhat parallel wavelengths, where I seek growth and how life has progressed to the present moment. empathy among people with a real ability to think and decide, is truly rare. one of the only few questions I am left with, is how long would Allah choose to have me taste this sweetness before either it becomes as one with me, or disappears like the mirage of night it first appeared to be. no, it isn't that I question Allah. I've come too far, understood too much, to allow such foolishness fit for lesser minds to hamper my self actualization. some things in life are decreed, howsoever much we may wish them a certain way. while it may not make me happy to know such times, my acceptance of them and knowledge of their necessity as a trial in this life, makes it mostly gravy. still, I am wondering, at this time of early morning, whether I will find this equal again, whether our words will meet as raindrops in a spreading drought or as snow shards left in the upper reaches of atmosphere: will it melt and reform into one, or be blown by gusts of fate to directions unknown? it's obvious I haven't thought this deeply in a long time. for simple enough a reason: I haven't had a person with which to do so. at least, reflections suit me, so they cannot lure me to a house of horror but only a house of possibility.
- will be adding something about a mirage soon -
for the first time in a long time, I am posting on consecutive days. interesting, the forces that compel me here, but relatively unremarkable in the grand scheme of things. I'm still fully digesting the events of yesterday, just what it means, just how I relate, just how far to invite a (former?) stranger inside a place where I allow few to go. the first step is already in motion. a blog that I've kept since one my more fateful years that has only a handful of posts but no viewers besides myself is now potentially open. why? I imagine it is for the purposes of understanding, and the completion thereof. suffice it to say, barring any unforeseen dramatic exits, this singularity will know much of me almost willingly or otherwise. lol
no, this is not a mirage of love, or some vain concoction like it. if I could try explaining this phenomenon, it would have to be an amalgamation of minds - the first time I can ever say it has happened with someone else. I need not say that I have been searching for some intellectual equal, male or female, from amongst mankind as long as I can remember. one who can write and understand, along somewhat parallel wavelengths, where I seek growth and how life has progressed to the present moment. empathy among people with a real ability to think and decide, is truly rare. one of the only few questions I am left with, is how long would Allah choose to have me taste this sweetness before either it becomes as one with me, or disappears like the mirage of night it first appeared to be. no, it isn't that I question Allah. I've come too far, understood too much, to allow such foolishness fit for lesser minds to hamper my self actualization. some things in life are decreed, howsoever much we may wish them a certain way. while it may not make me happy to know such times, my acceptance of them and knowledge of their necessity as a trial in this life, makes it mostly gravy. still, I am wondering, at this time of early morning, whether I will find this equal again, whether our words will meet as raindrops in a spreading drought or as snow shards left in the upper reaches of atmosphere: will it melt and reform into one, or be blown by gusts of fate to directions unknown? it's obvious I haven't thought this deeply in a long time. for simple enough a reason: I haven't had a person with which to do so. at least, reflections suit me, so they cannot lure me to a house of horror but only a house of possibility.
- will be adding something about a mirage soon -
5.13.2008
- in the name of Allah -
So I am back here again. Why? I'm not entirely sure. It isn't the innate pull of self revelation, nor the desire to lift some hefty burden off of my chest. It isn't even as strong as the typical motivations I have to write something.
I write because I marvel at the hand of fate and its subtle movement. How some paths we plot and plan ourselves, yet they fade to nothing, and some paths of which we carry no inkling, without warning emerge to the surface of our souls from the very depths of our being. I hold no illusions of grandeur, no delusion of sanctity, no farce of fair fate; the only feeling I carry is this awareness that a thing, though it may be of limited purpose and present scope, could impart every single notion I've ever valued outside of deen and the basic premise of my existence, all in one fell swoop.
It could be that a reflection of mine, similar in nature but varying in substance, is finally shone from a corner of the world and a part of life that I hadn't quite expected from. How do I react? What will I do? Will I bury the shovels of my past along side the graves of fallen dreams? Will I create a facade to manage a crisis I don't see but in paranoia might expect anyway?
Simple. I live as if little has changed, but for a glimmer of something greater is given its due. There it is, there it might live, and still there it may die, but I will remember the day it shone bright, without needing to wonder if or why. My past has stayed buried, and as little as I care for it, it plans on staying that way. Facades never were quite my thing, so I'll leave them be and carry on while keeping faith grounded in believing.
from the nearest star..
..fell a dream, into my lap
barely moving, it needed CPR, stat
paddle 1 paddle 2, shock on three
count the lights, hands off, electricity
coursed through veins, depolarizing
a dream in infancy, barely surviving,
it just might make it, begin intubation
blindly, no need for light, I see it clearly.
a patient who fell out of his shuttle,
right before it landed on the moon,
escaped the smoldering rubble,
and not a second too soon,
flames and smoke rose and engulfed,
a lost vantage point blazing the rough,
no real matter, blueprints were in hand,
now to rebuild, across the oceans, across the lands.
So I am back here again. Why? I'm not entirely sure. It isn't the innate pull of self revelation, nor the desire to lift some hefty burden off of my chest. It isn't even as strong as the typical motivations I have to write something.
I write because I marvel at the hand of fate and its subtle movement. How some paths we plot and plan ourselves, yet they fade to nothing, and some paths of which we carry no inkling, without warning emerge to the surface of our souls from the very depths of our being. I hold no illusions of grandeur, no delusion of sanctity, no farce of fair fate; the only feeling I carry is this awareness that a thing, though it may be of limited purpose and present scope, could impart every single notion I've ever valued outside of deen and the basic premise of my existence, all in one fell swoop.
It could be that a reflection of mine, similar in nature but varying in substance, is finally shone from a corner of the world and a part of life that I hadn't quite expected from. How do I react? What will I do? Will I bury the shovels of my past along side the graves of fallen dreams? Will I create a facade to manage a crisis I don't see but in paranoia might expect anyway?
Simple. I live as if little has changed, but for a glimmer of something greater is given its due. There it is, there it might live, and still there it may die, but I will remember the day it shone bright, without needing to wonder if or why. My past has stayed buried, and as little as I care for it, it plans on staying that way. Facades never were quite my thing, so I'll leave them be and carry on while keeping faith grounded in believing.
from the nearest star..
..fell a dream, into my lap
barely moving, it needed CPR, stat
paddle 1 paddle 2, shock on three
count the lights, hands off, electricity
coursed through veins, depolarizing
a dream in infancy, barely surviving,
it just might make it, begin intubation
blindly, no need for light, I see it clearly.
a patient who fell out of his shuttle,
right before it landed on the moon,
escaped the smoldering rubble,
and not a second too soon,
flames and smoke rose and engulfed,
a lost vantage point blazing the rough,
no real matter, blueprints were in hand,
now to rebuild, across the oceans, across the lands.
4.18.2008
- in the name of Allah -
I don't think this blog really serves any purpose for me anymore. My evolution has come so far, realized so much, I wonder if I will ever find again the need to write and give voice to my thoughts.
It's like a leaf blown off a tree into the wind, only to scatter into a million pieces and be reformed in another land, simply to make fertile the land that would grow another tree.
My poetic touch is being lost. I can't quite explain it. Possibly the pragmatism that's become entrenched in my being from putting deen more fully into life has something to do with it. Words...don't mean as much as they once did. They may be able to cut more easily than knives, but they weigh as much as feathers.
It also dawns on me that I need to find someone. Who, I don't know, why, I'm only half sure of, and how, well that remains the most mysterious part. Let the puzzle begin..
I don't think this blog really serves any purpose for me anymore. My evolution has come so far, realized so much, I wonder if I will ever find again the need to write and give voice to my thoughts.
It's like a leaf blown off a tree into the wind, only to scatter into a million pieces and be reformed in another land, simply to make fertile the land that would grow another tree.
My poetic touch is being lost. I can't quite explain it. Possibly the pragmatism that's become entrenched in my being from putting deen more fully into life has something to do with it. Words...don't mean as much as they once did. They may be able to cut more easily than knives, but they weigh as much as feathers.
It also dawns on me that I need to find someone. Who, I don't know, why, I'm only half sure of, and how, well that remains the most mysterious part. Let the puzzle begin..
3.13.2008
- in the name of Allah -
Crap. I thought I could manage to post here at least once every month ever since I began this blog, but I guess not. Clinicals started this semester, so that pretty much explains it. Just not enough time, it seems, to do or say all the things either felt or needed to be said.
The world keeps turning, the past gives a bit more insight day by day, and still the path ahead becomes clearer. We weren't made to live this life like kings or queens, maybe princes or princesses if we're fortunate and grateful. So much of what I write, if anything, has words like "seems" or "appears"...nothing particularly definitive, but as I become more certain of my own purpose, a slight gleam for a tomorrow evident but not quite past.
Crap. I thought I could manage to post here at least once every month ever since I began this blog, but I guess not. Clinicals started this semester, so that pretty much explains it. Just not enough time, it seems, to do or say all the things either felt or needed to be said.
The world keeps turning, the past gives a bit more insight day by day, and still the path ahead becomes clearer. We weren't made to live this life like kings or queens, maybe princes or princesses if we're fortunate and grateful. So much of what I write, if anything, has words like "seems" or "appears"...nothing particularly definitive, but as I become more certain of my own purpose, a slight gleam for a tomorrow evident but not quite past.
1.15.2008
- in the name of Allah -
First time back posting in awhile, and I happen to check bbc.com for a (brief) update on world affairs. Not surprising, but intriguing nonetheless.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7188602.stm
That was the top story this Tuesday, the 15th of January. I only needed to read a few paragraphs into it before what I knew from previous developments (see previous blog posts - about 2-3 months ago).
1. "The 900 satellite-guided Joint Direct Attack Munitions being sold to Riyadh are part of a long-awaited US arms package for Gulf Arab allies worth $20bn."
2. "In Washington, Democrats signalled they were unlikely to block the deal, though some in Congress expressed fears that some of the technology being sold could threaten Israel, the BBC's Jonathan Beale in Washington reports."
3. "US state department spokesman Sean McCormack said that both the Saudi and Israeli governments had been consulted and Washington was ensuring Israel retained a "qualitative military edge"."
4. 'Analysts suggest that Congress will back the arms sale because it would bolster the Saudis in the face of Iran. Tehran has been described by House Foreign Affairs Committee chairman Tom Lantos, a Democrat, as a "mortal threat" to the region, should it acquire nuclear weapons."
Nothing but more of the same, a propagation of warfare-inspiring rhetoric and politically-motivated decisions...which leads me to a question: when was the last time someone in our government did something for a reason other than their own political gain? I can't remember...last time I even recall something like that...it was from a movie..
First time back posting in awhile, and I happen to check bbc.com for a (brief) update on world affairs. Not surprising, but intriguing nonetheless.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7188602.stm
That was the top story this Tuesday, the 15th of January. I only needed to read a few paragraphs into it before what I knew from previous developments (see previous blog posts - about 2-3 months ago).
1. "The 900 satellite-guided Joint Direct Attack Munitions being sold to Riyadh are part of a long-awaited US arms package for Gulf Arab allies worth $20bn."
2. "In Washington, Democrats signalled they were unlikely to block the deal, though some in Congress expressed fears that some of the technology being sold could threaten Israel, the BBC's Jonathan Beale in Washington reports."
3. "US state department spokesman Sean McCormack said that both the Saudi and Israeli governments had been consulted and Washington was ensuring Israel retained a "qualitative military edge"."
4. 'Analysts suggest that Congress will back the arms sale because it would bolster the Saudis in the face of Iran. Tehran has been described by House Foreign Affairs Committee chairman Tom Lantos, a Democrat, as a "mortal threat" to the region, should it acquire nuclear weapons."
Nothing but more of the same, a propagation of warfare-inspiring rhetoric and politically-motivated decisions...which leads me to a question: when was the last time someone in our government did something for a reason other than their own political gain? I can't remember...last time I even recall something like that...it was from a movie..