- in the name of Allah - 

Alhamdulillah, time keeps passing on by. My answers to questions these days are as few as they have ever been, and my self and purpose beckon to amorphous, shapeless directions. Who should I become, towards what end, knowing what I do of my self? Classical thought no doubt, but therein is part of the everlasting beauty of philosophy: questions will always persist no matter how often we think to have found their answers. 

Anyways, on to a recent thought:

If I could move heaven and earth to make myself more than just the sum of water and dirt, I think I would pass on the chance to become an angel in the land, walking in elegant stride with a staff of conviction firmly in hand. I was never a saint or devil but only a man, albeit one who's done much less than what his potential says he can. I've no wish to compete and struggle for dollars and honors, prestige and repute as rewards for climbing ladders to power. I was never made for that type of struggle, my soul rebels not in part but in whole to such concepts of the material made the end of all goals. I've heard it said that too much knowledge can lead to inaction, I qualify that by adding even little tidbits can break all traction so wheels of purpose spin in place on ice not melting but lasting. I long to love like the worlds of our galaxy have no choice but to follow one another around the sun, pulled with or without resisting by gravity as definite as light letting eyes see; but my conundrum is thus presented: who could I possibly find in this world with thinking like mine? Who's father would thus accept a pseudo-wretch who internally shuns worldly figures and sums without regard for other's thoughts or marches not to the beat of the world's drums? Honestly, were I in their place, I'd not accept one such as me - but odd as it is, I accept all of me as I am now! Imagine such contradictions walking around or simply remaining in self-made prisons or sanctuaries, where's this man's companion? Surely she must be otherworldly, not given to being mortally bound or externally driven. So it is that I think, thirsting for water while floating amongst the oceans, currents both cruel and gentle felt as one and the same for none hold water for me to be nourished in. 

A fitting poetic I believe.