- in the name of Allah -

Overcast skies, burdened with rain, not yet falling but imminent any day, cloudy but promising, wondering how long and which way. Some threads I've held on to since my beginning, slowly shrinking, disintegrating, the anti-matter of reality with its penetrating beams of 'be-like-me-or-perish' - a fallacy at best to be sure, but unquestionably for now a perilous cancer to me without cure. Glass houses, idealism at its finest, crashing and collapsing every so often, soon I'll be without any molten base material to make more and be left houseless and mentally dampened.

I dislike pessimists, yet falling into such traps is a perfect devil's hampering. Caught in my own webs of personal conceit, unable to find a mirror for the life of me, wondering if I'm now villain or hero or beast, where's the U-turn on this remote to rewind these crumbling scenes? I want to muster love but can find no object, having always searched for someone to carry and fill my other half since the time I started without regrets. Speaking of which, they're (those regrets) are piling up high now, asking their own questions, poking and prodding, chasing after my potential lost without will to protect or invest in.

I need prayers and a fresh rope, one not nearly burned out, but full of light and hope, not shrouding in darkness or becoming even remotely heartless, but vibrant and strong enough to lead me past these times into a death worthy of life and purpose.