- in the name of Allah -

As the heaviest snow I've ever seen falls outside, I'm reminded of something I read in a book recently. It was a supplication where the Nabi (saw) asks Allah to wash his sins with "water, snow, and hail". I can't say I've ever thought of snow or hail having purifying qualities, but looking at simply how beautiful and marvelous it looks outside, I can kind of understand. So how does beauty lend itself to purification? Like how on the Day of Judgment everything would be destroyed and remade anew, that is sort of what snow does. Since its so cold, not many bacteria can thrive in it, if any. When it melts, it becomes water which washes away whatever it was frozen over. All of the grass, pavement, dirt, even the trash thrown carelessly on the ground by people, all of it gets covered and hidden, and only a cold, powdery blanket of snow is seen.

It's really marvelous when you think about it.


- in the name of Allah -

late night, hidden from moonlight, no candles lit, bathed in darkness, I'm remanded to a path of crystalline clarity wherein a Provider blesses me with sight. no, I can't see the future, or even the palms of my own hands, the only thing apparent to me, is beneath the nomad's feet a path of desert sands. I'm just a traveller, passing through, not well attached, trying just as much as I need to do. my wisdom is slight, my knowledge imperfect, my vision shortsighted, my nafs subversive. so, if in myself I have nothing of worth, nothing that could stand alone, nothing that can see in darkness, nothing able on its own, where is my end and what is my goal? I'm hoping and praying for an end in gardens underneath which rivers flow, and perchance being granted a mercy that'd bring stone to tears, melting the ice in hearts of foes.


- in the name of Allah -

Let me relate to you a little story, a small echo of self-revelation. There once was man, who walked every day across railroad tracks, in his mind a feat of no small making. Any day or anytime, whenever he chose to walk across those lines, there'd be no trains, or he'd walk off calmly in the nick of time. "My, what luck I must have, what fortune from my veins must bleed, walking howsoever I please", and so he walked one day back to his home, such thoughts ringing in his soul down deep. Not a stone's throw from his front door, still thinking the very same self-praise, he hummed his best tune, just as a car mowed him down were he but a blade of grass, helpless and thrown out with the trash.


- in the name of Allah -

Alhamdulillah, I have returned. After a 2 week hiatus overseas, its nice to be back to places where things are so much more familiar. That's not to say I wasn't able to pick up a few tidbits of wisdom along the way, but there's something about 'home' that makes it such an attractive place to be.

As might be expected, I can recount my blessings and fortuity with much greater clarity than before I left. Though living conditions there had improved generally, there were still occasional and sometimes prolonged power outages. The fact that water had to be pumped (as opposed to having it constantly pressurized) was also a cause for concern at times.

All in all, I'm glad I went, and in spite of my hesitancy, was able to come back with something worth remembering. Alhamdulillah.


- in the name of Allah -

(shapeless thoughts)
I could take words from the deepest depths
Or straddle syllables on the highest cliffs
But every time I'd try
All you would see are ancient glyphs

My story hasn't yet ended
The life goes on
Truth decays into commodity expended
And to our present, allegiances are sworn

I need to feel, more than anything else
To be at least alive, walking, breathing, myself

But as of now, my sight is clouded
Hidden without discipline, by apathy enshrouded

As is my sight, my soul becomes
Opening and closing at whim, an outdated serum

Reach out, reach back to me, let me find
That we're all still people, not as animals
Killing and maiming, chasing in kind
Each other's legacies,
Our own blades dropping in gold, a blood-made-wine

It's a catastrophe that to prepare for peace
One should ready for war
Where's our nature going, from where's it come,
When blood is our past, when blood is all that's in store?

Yeah, I know my problems are tiny, almost below radar
But even I sense them
Since even from them I'm actually quite far

I'm at a place self-preserved
Where emotion is a glacier without reserve
Hearts are lost, minds confounded
For they've lost all their nerve

There's no spunk, no vitality
Just a deep dark lake,
Pouring out timeless death for all to see.



- in the name of Allah -

Happiness is often one of the most elusive things in life. Sometimes it lands right in front of you without any effort; other times, you can work for years searching for the fruits of your labor and still nothing becomes of it.

One of the main reasons happiness is so elusive is because people go about searching for it the wrong way. You would think that happiness might be found in fulfilling your desires and wishes, right? It would make sense to say that if people had what they wanted, they would be happy. Reality, however, points us in a different direction. It isn't uncommon to see the rich and famous struggle to find fulfillment in their lives, to try and buy it from any and every possible source. It also wouldn't be hard to find a poor person who is happy with what they have. So, what really leads a person to happiness? Is it his or her rebellion against what is perceived as prescribed fate, or perhaps their apparent acquiescence to its decree? I honestly think both of them would be at a disadvantage: one would rebel forever and become able to find solace in not even the most obvious of things, while the other would eventually lose even the most basic of ambition to become better or find a better station in life.

The question arises again, then. How do you find happiness? The easiest and truest answer I could give someone lies in a single word: I s l a m. Translated into English, that would be: submitting one's self to God. A very wise person once said that it may be that what you like is bad for you, and what you dislike is good for you. If we judge everything that we perceive according to our own soul/ego, how could we ever find those things that are in fact the best for us...by ourselves? I don't think we ever could. The road to happiness is often times a solitary road, but not a lonely one. Once the realization is found that happiness is pretty much with God/Allah alone, the only step to take is forward, towards Him. Let there be no delusions about how difficult the path will be, about how sometimes things couldn't seem to get any worse. Life was made with both its ups and its downs. Indeed, with every hardship there follows ease.

After writing all of that, no doubt I need to reflect on it myself. It scares me sometimes how little I can be contented with, how trite and meaningless seemingly huge goals that other people have are to me, for me. Deep down, since as far back as I can remember, I was someone who loved fairness, hated inequality, prefer innocence even in its invariable absence. There was no meaning in the bullying people did, no meaning in calling people names, no meaning in carrying on with fistfights. Why? Because a just world, or rather a just people, needed none of those things. Happiness was as simple and easy and giving someone you did or didn't know a genuine smile. There are times when I still prefer the innocence of youth to the supposed wisdom of age and/or cynicism. Those times are long gone, but sometimes it was just like yesterday.

The only thing for me to do is put the earnest foot forward, seek the truth openly, and leave the rest to God.


- in the name of Allah -

quiet rain

as my various realities
come bearing down on me
I give pause to thought
"how long must this be?"

if I dared gaze at what has past
no doubt I'd drown
in sins and emptiness and regret
piled on high from sky till ground

a different lesson I'm learning
tales of ancients you might say
is that to forge a new path
sometimes you must lose your way

I'll be the first to recollect in curiosity
to muse at what could have been
had I been as wise back then

but but, before my aim is lost
before I reach for fruits long gone
I know these branches
are near to breaking, bound by timeless frost

as such, I proclaim for myself the only road
is the only one I've ever known

a trail where time goes in one direction
where looking back is mere confection

I guess I understand, why man is so oft doomed
to repeat his past and learn it not
for tomorrow's sake, he buries it soon

I plead and beg and lay prostate on my face
for Allah to be my guide
and forever my support, my solace.


- in the name of Allah -

At this early hour, a seemingly random verse comes to mind, quoted above. A rough translation:

"..and whomever is saved from the greed of his own soul, it is they who are successful."
(Hashr, ayah 9)

Two things strike me about this ayah. One, that one's own soul is something that would require saving from (usually, we might think of needing protection from the devil, from external temptation, etc). Two, it reads "..whomever is saved..", not "..whomever saves him/her self.." - this lends itself to the true and actual dependency we have upon Allah on attempting to claim salvation.

It isn't by our own efforts that we would be saved from the fires of Jahannam, or granted the gardens of Jannah. It's something that must be sought after by the very core of one's heart. There's a reason Allah remembers those who remember Him, there's a reason that there is no reward for good, except good. Perhaps the only thing that should really concern us, that should catch us in our most attentive moments is this: that our end, and our beginning, and everything in between, are all with Allah and nothing and nowhere else.


- in the name of Allah -

internal constructs

Reaching for the stars, barely landing in the heavens,
The path has finally opened, if only for a second.
I catch whiff of a scent that could blind the senses,
My fancy is intrigued, blood pounding in throbbing temples.

The rush is too much, I'm becoming light-headed,
The door still inviting, but it seems I'm not yet ready.
Why must I awake from this opaque dream?
The clock reads a minute past, I swear an eternity it seemed.

Let me gaze for just a few decades,
Into crystalline orbs, tiny suns that shine on without age.
Granted such rare glory, such precious splendor,
Who would deny the touch of satin, the smell of lavender?

Remembering just one of countless rewards in store,
For he who'd lend his Rabb a goodly loan, and little more.
A blink of an eye, or an epic tale of endless pages,
Only fools need argue, a spat amongst wandless mages.

A winding road ahead, paved in prick of thorns,
Right is obvious, but can a nomad weather its storm?



- in the name of Allah -

How will I ever find time for mirrors and walls, when sometimes all I can read is writing not worth the scribble of restroom stalls? Introspection loses out to extroversion, saying a lot more than I did back then but without half the meaning or one-fourth the purpose. Socially fit, but socially disinclined, my mismatches abound when I thought I'd find the perfectly suited in no time. It's surprising to see friends grow even as I watch from a distance, their gazes don't quite reach me as much as they used to, I usually just miss them. A little sad, sure, but it's comforting knowing that they're heading places, if not physically than becoming better people (or better imitators of progress). Slight doubt or wonder aside, my own questions beg their time in the spotlight, but wait..they don't have any batteries. So what good is a wrong with a plan to be righted if it can only stand out against the darkness while everything else is nighted? Who knows, I only hold few things for certain, among them, a belief I have to have, or else I'd rather choose to not live than be just another soul, frightfully wondering who its Lord is and why it exists. My paths are never easy, same with the choices I have to make, but I think the worthwhile always needs effort, for the worthy to find their place.


- in the name of Allah -

Where would we be without people who cared? Whether it be family or friends, or acquaintances not seen in a million years, I think the overall progression of life would be quite different were it not for timely and necessary interference from others. Static life has a way of moving on without progressing, of going forward but lacking direction. Sometimes, an external stimulus is needed, howsoever small, to bring about the next step in personal evolution.

All of that leads me into why I'm writing this right now. Since my last post, things could not have been more different. I've been at the masjid more during Ramadhan in a week than I have the past 3 or 4 Ramadhans combined. People I haven't seen, in as long a time, I've met up with again, remarking on how things have changed and who's doing what where right now. In essence, two events stand out as precursors to any of this happening. First, at a friend's wedding a month or 2 back, a friend of a couple years asked me to come play basketball at the masjid, since they played almost every evening. I took his advice. Not a week or so ago, a nephew of mine asked me if I was going to pray Tarawih at the masjid like he was. Likewise, I listened to his suggestion. The rest, as they say, is history.

In effect, I've found that growing older doesn't necessarily limit what wisdom can be learned from those younger than us. It's often the things we think we've figured out already that need re-examining, and who better to see those things than those with eyes untainted by cynicism? If I continue to learn anything, it's that our perceptions aren't always laid in stone like we think they are. Just because I *think* I know what I'm doing or where I'm going, or how I'm affecting other people, doesn't have to mean that's really what's happening. Moreso now than ever, I doubt there's ever been a better time for everyone to reflect on their lives, about the paths they are taking, the choices they are making, and finding out for certain if the priorities they have in life are worth it as they, or if they need changing.


- in the name of Allah -

So, it's that time of year again. Ramadhan. The time of fasting, reflection, and a general flux amongst the Muslim communities worldwide as they search for ways to, at least, become better for this month.

My mental state, however, differs markedly from that. For the past 3 or 4 years, I've observed a somewhat disturbing trend of mine - to purposefully (or rather, lacking a reason/purpose) become more detached and somewhat reclusive than normal. What brings this about? I see the changes in my family most obviously, and it bothers me tremendously that people would say and do such pious things during this month that would otherwise, in any other month, be nearly cast away as meaningless. Do I have an internal revulsion to perceived hypocrisy, or am I just bogged down in a kind of laziness that encumbers the soul so it just doesn't feel like 'doing' anything anymore? As yet, I do not know the answer to this question. The drop off from Ramadhan compared to any other month is so large...I can't help but be entirely skeptical at the fate of mankind. That isn't to say the majority of my problem lies with other people. On the contrary, there is a significant internal difference, like a grandfather clock that decidedly moves slower during a particular time, but always inexplicably. People tell me to just go to the masjid more often during this month, and I wonder why they say something so simple. As of about a month or so ago, I actually started going on a more regular basis, alh, besides just for Jumu'ah. My reasons for going varied, but after embracing an acknowledged need for progress, I decided that the status quo could not remain any longer.

But this month...the rationality behind my behaviour eludes me entirely. I cannot fathom it, while my thinking just days prior was obvious gravitation towards being and becoming more deen-oriented and attending more prayers in congregation. So, it has to be something specific to Ramadhan that brings this supposed depression about. Why would the happiest month of the Islamic calendar shade its happiness from me? Is there perhaps an internal flaw in my thinking that requires re-evaluation? Is there a misunderstanding I have about what the month should mean for me? I pray it is not that I am destined to be of those deprived of mercy specifically in Ramadhan..insha'Allah. Truly, the question is there..but how am I to find its answer?


- in the name of Allah -

So, I haven't posted anything lately. Alh, it's mainly because there isn't anything really for me to put down here. All of the concerns and issues that might normally evoke a blog entry....are non-existent atm (at the moment).

Of course, it's just a circle that leads me to back to where I've always known myself to be: blessed, alh. There is nothing more important in life, or more worthy of being an ambition, than recognizing the favors and blessings Allah gives us in life. If we can't see that, we pretty much can't 'see' anything.

I still need to be married though. More on that at some point down the line, iA. I should be settled into a job within a few months [iA], after taking my sweet time post-board exam. Then, I guess I join my friends who've already walked down that road. I think I might miss being a bachelor.


- in the name of Allah -

Among various other things that occur to me at such early morning hours, I am led to ponder over the nature of wisdom and guidance. While everyone generally may believe that good actions and good intentions procure a 'better fate', there are enough exceptions (or moments of crystal clear disillusion) in life where a better and more wholesome wisdom is sought.

It could be, and doubtless has been, that some person some where would do a good deed, and then afterwords, be so impressed by what he has done that he begins to fancy himself a prince and at a higher level than those he does not see as fitting his category of religiosity. In such a case, what has this person initially pure deed done for expect increase him in misguidance?

The simple lesson we can derive from this is that we should always be wary of where misguidance can come from. Perhaps especially, being on guard after doing a good deed is something everyone should do, lest egos, pride, and exaggerated self worth start clouding the truth, with the person suddenly being led astray because he should forget where true guidance came from, and why he was doing it all in the first place.

It is a bit ironic, and counter to 'common' sense, that we could end up taking the paths often traveled from something so pure and initially innocent. It's been said that good intentions often land good people in bad places (or something like that). Lately, it seems like the guise of wisdom has appeared to me in more places and more moments than I can remember ever having happened before. Alhamdulillah for that.

On less important notes, I passed my board exam! Certified, here I come!



- in the name of Allah -

On Faith

What is faith? In and of itself, is it a need? a drug? a passion? an emotion? a trump card? a final solution? a convenience? a necessity? a catharsis? a mode of logic? What category, exactly, does our personal relationship to 'faith' fall under? How have we defined it for ourselves?

To me, in my youth, faith was a pill to swallow every night before I went to bed, to keep the bedbugs at bay and my conscience in solace. As I've aged, and I ascertain where I am in life, I am finding that now it has become a candlelight in the darkness of human cognizance. Outside of my deen, my religion, my choice, I can sense only darkness, seeping around every corner of indecision and doubt, waiting to make its way into me or those around me. So, still I hold on to the candle, waiting, for the breeze to lead and push the flame where it should go, to where I inevitably belong.

It has never been easy, even when I was blissful and ignorant in my younger years. There were many traps around me I'd only realize after I'd passed by them, amazed that I'd come so close to them at all. The path has often not been to the best of my liking, often I've questioned the grand design and purpose of it all, especially the role in it I was to play. For life we did not ask, yet life it is we are given. So what is to be done with this choice? There is only 1 path, despite the many ways in which we may want to put things. The choice is ours, to believe or not to believe. One cannot hold either choice in hand, yet avoid its responsibility. If you choose to declare that god is but one God, that His final messenger existed and that this messenger was His servant, then the only path is to submit. Desire will always persist, but it is in the battles that we can lay claim to winning, hand in hand with our superego, that we might keep the beast within at bay, and find the best and better parts of ourselves.

The naysayers and skeptics and atheists, have all given up hope. Their flaw, were I to point at just one common among them all, would be the same as Satan/Iblees/the Fallen One (literally and figuratively): they despair, and in this state, seek only to lead others into despair along with themselves. I must say that sometimes, emotion must be disregarded, for the better sake of one's self. Many times I have felt this way or that, and it would lead me to an invariably dissatisfying result. I knew it, yet I chose the easier path nonetheless. In order for the potential damage of emotion to be minimal, logic should supplant it. If I looked in many directions and did not see, for my own lack of wisdom, providence in the many things around me, in myself, then it should be a fault only of mine, not one that I should lay claim as being of my Creator's. As humans, we may 'feel' undeniably justified in how our train of thought leads to rebellion, dissent, and general disharmony...but we should also remember we are human. Upon reflection, if being human has taught us anything over the past millenia, it is that to err is human. Our fallibility should always humble our insatiable ambitions to be rulers of our own fate, and remind us that the end worth everything we can give it, is often that end which is most difficult to see. Just because there is mist and fog, does not mean the path is not there. It is only that we should wish to forever be led upon it.


- in the name of Allah -

It's been so long since I've truly put pen to paper or key to screen, I'm led to wonder if those literary genes are even expressed any longer or if I've just forgotten what writing means. Layers upon layers of unremembered dreams, woven in subconscious trickles, soon to be erased by 'goals' and 'ambitions' covertly fickle. Don't mind me while I mind my inability to scream, to pout, to get everything inside of me justifiably out. There are better plays to see, better forms of entertainment to find, than un-felt emotions finally catching up on the times.

.. unfinished ..


- in the name of Allah -

I dislike reconstruction. You might assume that such a phase could only occur after a previously whole object was somehow broken, or had lost some piece of itself. But, that isn't always the case. Sometimes, a house just needs an addition, like a 2nd wing, another bedroom, or maybe another bath. If the case is the latter, then why is it so confounding? I'd already (or so I think) plotted everything of my life there was to plot, so why do these unknown spaces emerge? How long can someone continue to define themselves, in old ways or new? Existential crises seem so cliche, a pattern so old...yet one without any immediately obvious answers. Some things I have found, like the spirituality/faith I (will) need in life, the importance of family, the fluctuating nature of friends, and other common, easily-identifiable traits of being human. But there are one or two things that mystify me so much that I wonder sometimes who it is I see in the mirror.


- in the name of Allah -

Coming across this quote...

Small wonder that [he] advises us to look forward, not backward - a convenient doctrine for those who hold the clubs. Those who are beaten by them tend to see the world differently, much to our annoyance." - atimes.com

...I am led to wonder: how long will the charade of Western imperialism disguised as "democracy" and "humanitarian intervention" continue? I guess one of the only ways people can emerge from all the dust and ashes to learn the truth is simply to read about it.


- in the name of Allah -

One of the biggest issues with making long journeys is not being worn down by them. Depending on how long it is, however, such a state might be unavoidable. This is where I find myself. Life, as the consummately worthy journey, fails to hold the same blaze of yearning for me that it once did. What goals are there to have that will not erode in time, that will pass the test of history while we are still alive? My single footprint on humanity is so small, I have affected so few, that I should think my purpose little more than to live out the rest of my days. I do not wish to lead, per se, nor do I wish to be a blind follower. However, the roads for the one seeking the in-between are few, if any. I have lost or am losing my passion, for wanting, for having, for needing..that which compels humanity forward, gives it purpose it can taste in the air and reason as fire to send the senses alight. My idealism hasn't existed for years now, but its shell now seems to have been felled in whole. How shall I find again the spark, that drove me once, and without which I feel I shall forever static remain?


- in the name of Allah -

how empty are lives full of only echoes? times gone by and history books written ages ago, left no records of the soul that might teach one how to grow. stagnation is the beck and call of my day, forever listless, while thunderous ambitions of air reach for stars seemingly no longer there. there is no road behind me, but no path ahead; I could forge it as I go, but would that be enough for me instead? as life goes on, or its semblance thereof, I wonder if its worth it all: the journey, the end, the toil, the shackles of ourselves. I reach amongst the phantoms, seeking substance to fill a void; of course the impossibilities stare back at me, amazed at how insane I seem. I 'know' the answers, I have 'heard' of remedies, but are these tales enough to solve the issue that is me?

- unfinished -


- in the name of Allah -

Human evolution takes so long sometimes. We emerge from our first cocoons susceptible to everything until we become perceptive to nothing. Then, we learn to wander the hills and valleys, looking for a mate and so settle on the nearest branch. More young are born, the elders pass away, and so the least knowledgeable become the inheritors of the earth.

We were supposed to have learned from the "barbarism" of past ages, from the "ignorance" of the past, and forge a better future. But the only thing that has changed are the chains that bind us, whether to material comfort or logically-challenged belief. Will this life be an eternal bind for as long as we live it? Will never the shroud lift from our eyes so that we may see past the shadows cast by our own egos, the suspicions formed in our own insecurities? Sometimes, I am a prisoner to more than just my own fancy, I am a prisoner to a 'system', a 'system' not bound by society or projected morality, but a 'system' that is carried in the very genes of the human construct. Our passion for life, our vivacity, our need to be more than what we are and reach beyond what is in our arm's grasp, our hope that wings of wax will sustain us until we reach the highest heaven..is perhaps the greatest burden humanity will ever bear. I want, yet I do not need, moreover I am not yet wholly capable, but still the insistence presses forward, towards a blissful cliff or a painstaking wall only the road ahead will tell..


- in the name of Allah -

Minutes before I prepare for Jumu'ah, I am reminded of a few things. Mainly random thoughts, but I suspect there is some general cohesion underlying them. First, humanity's roots as social beings. We have to connect, feel the link of connection, expression, contribution, internal and external clarity, for ourselves and those around us. Sadly, these connections bring us both "good" and "bad", hope and sorrow, information and propaganda, truth and deceit, superficiality and depth, closeness and distance, and the list goes on. The best we can do is try to filter what we absorb from others, to take the most worthwhile of what they have to offer, and to leave off their less desirable traits. Such is the nature of dealing with and being one of everyone. Second, the many ways in which I have been blessed by Allah, not only to have believed and still try for believing, but for being able to see past the obvious into the layer of understanding where non-egotistical genius and heightened awareness lie. Moments of clarity in life are few and far in between, so the most must be made of them while we have them. One must know that nothing is without purpose, especially one's own self. Just because we may not have the awareness of it yet, does not mean that we should give in to our lesser parts and follow in an aimless fashion our self-created designs of entropy. Every part of us is relevant, but learning to prioritize and visualize a grand scope of something is far greater in relevance.

- alas, such obtuse and relatively grandiose notions... -


crystal balls and gazing stars, constellations and planets from years afar, such tiny beings with great ambition, fit for kings but killed by malnutrition. we look farther than the eye can see, yet to our selves are blind, counting molecules on Venus, unaware that a neighbor's died. shackled by egos, fettered by preconceptions, we delude and prejudge, until all that's left is our own deception. rising, to what point? flying, to which heaven? our trait of wanting more, masquerades as need, hiding in plain sight, without cloak or dagger, until we're buried underneath. how many warnings can we ignore, before the dam breaks open, and fire becomes our only friend, our only abode? if the law in physics holds true, that any action has its equal opposition, then where will we stand, if all we offer is our own condition?

[on the human condition]


- in the name of Allah -

The purpose of this blog sometimes eludes me. Alh, I am no longer in quite the state of ideological flux that had prepossessed me in years past. I have found a certain foothold, a keen sense of knowing, of who I am, what my purpose is, how to exist. The only question that has remained unanswered, is precisely where am I going? I know most of what I seek does not hold water in this plane, an afterlife long awaited. So it should not be a surprise then to find this plane so burdensome, so full of literal and metaphorical heaviness. It is near impossible to be light-hearted for a long period of time without suffering in some way, either by losing scope and perspective of life, or the abuse and mockery of the less-enlightened. Either the body or mind remain heavily laden with some tiredness, somehow or another. There is just so little in life designed to truly be uplifting, inspiring. That is perhaps why I have developed a recent kinship with prayer, especially as of late. Sometimes, when we do not find the answers we are looking for in the course of a day, a good night's sleep preceded by the nightly prayer is exactly what the doctor ordered.


- in the name of Allah -

The spring semester has begun. New challenges loom on the horizon, 12-hour shifts, cranky mentors, and long hours of listlessness. Right along with that come possibilities, ideas, potential realities floating about as if they were wisps of air. Being human, I find myself terribly shortsighted when it comes to knowing the 'ultimate' good or bad in any endeavor. I may begin it with the best of intentions, but where it will lead or what it will 'ultimately' mean for me is anyone's guess. That may be why it seems as if the paths that open in front of me now hold less of a foreboding. I was not the one to open them, merely one to allow their possibility to mentally exist.

Sometimes, words just fail. They can't tell of the sort of internal...peace...that can be felt at times, when one's purpose and action begin to align. Once we stop running from who we are and what we're made for, everything just falls into perspective. It may be that our notions of honor and justice are lacking, that to truly begin to encompass them, we have to reach a higher state, where we can acknowledge what really matters and what is just another headline in the paper.

Somewhat random thoughts, for a somewhat random time..


- in the name of Allah -

At times, the greatest obstacle to progress is one's own self. The hardest fight to overcome is a wall that is self-created, a barrier to fresh ideas, action, and acceptance that change is sometimes necessary.

In the course of life, the most important thing one can do to overcome these obstacles is to reflect on everything, upon life, upon death, upon the course of one's life from the earliest days of recollection. What has my purpose been? For what have I been known? What kind of person do I truly wish to be? At times, voices inside your head (sometimes known as the Shaitaan, the Devil) will remind you of the allure of darkness. How inviting it is to keep only one's ego and id as rulers to dethrone the superego from ever raising its voice, to negate conscience and guilt, to become whatever we want to become whenever we want to become simply to find another source of pleasure or another way to avoid pain. However, life is all about dealing/coping with not enough happiness and being dosed with apparently unbearable pain/sadness. The best of us are those who remember that all of this does serve a purpose, it is not all in vain, and one day, everything will be accounted for, and we will find our recompense in line with our deeds.


- in the name of Allah -

(written a day earlier, finished a day later)
Paler shades of nameless skies had never quite seen such a setting yellow, a premature fade of gray one would have to see to call himself a witness. meaning always reached, always pleaded for a perch of highest rank, unfortunate it is that life is not automatized, where each and every time may simply fall in line, similar old tunes of ancient songs; alas, their bards are dead, their prayers mute, as they themselves slashed their vocal cords, and thus a lasting peace ensued. what lessons their folly carried, latter generations shall scarcely know much less heed, wisdom of then always forgotten, bygone advice for bygone creeds. so where is my personal piece, my very own wedge of the pie, wherein this tumult of words comes full circle, where material phantoms with dilemmas collide? my eyes have never been closed, as I've always seen the shutters and doors, hiding fallacies of mine and those I've known, but as I catch a glimmer deeper, a glance toward the soul, whether foreign or my own, the truth turns away, a search once again gone cold. rather than 'act', I've pursued the philosophizing, a slight escape, excuse just in case my decision-making might be found lacking. I wonder if it is in deed a fear of loss, that like most, could drive me to a stilling stance, etched in a moment's time...

...though all around the world keeps moving, my self the stillest of them all, drunk upon a potion of want painfully undilute..