- 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.

*fuzzy crackle* Come in, second half, come in. We have found home base, over. I repeat, we have found home base. *fuzzy crackle*


- 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.


- 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.