1.27.2016

- in the name of Allah -


without a muse


like pen without paper, like song without melody, like gifts without favor, so many seasons passed, heard barely a whisper. whether harakiri or murder, as if the soul left its vessel, without informing its owner. not enough shades in the spectrum, tell how deep goes the wound, all along with the truth embedded, a piano key struck but no tune. shattered, breaking, broken, scattered, pieces tumble out of sequence, forgotten how to keep safe from closing. much indecision, indeterminate angles, secede control or carry impulse with precision. alas, was not a surgeon, can't say how this tale ends. need to poke at those old scars, pick apart the scab, feel pain underneath, recall what it's like to have. to draw a bridge over parallel example, as if ennui and anomy had child, a babe without bosom, thrown to wolf without shelter or preamble. idealism weeps, its essence in shambles, confined to mind, while reality over all runs rampant. 

 

1.12.2016

- in the name of Allah -

So another year dawns, full of its promises and hopes, absences and surprises. I'm sure there is a fine line here somewhere, defining the boundary between despair and anticipation, between expectation and reality, that's just waiting to be discovered. Why is it that this line is so blurry for me at times? Why is the only condition of humans I see one that devours that which is bright and sparkling and uplifting? No, I have not traversed again to the depths as in the past, for now, but their thought is never far from the mind.

Humanity is so puzzling to me, and as I'm human, often I find myself unable to discern what I find in the mirror. How can I judge what I know of me, both good and bad, right and wrong, fine and blunt, with respect to the past and present and future? It's been years and years since I had the ability to see a reflection of myself with any kind of ease, now all I can tell is what I find on my surface as there are inner longings I haven't felt in forever. Without them, what is left of a man but a shell of whatever it is he intended to be? The grand irony, of course, is that one of the surefire ways to lift the curtains on such a dreary post-disposition is by trying to find love/marriage/etc once again. But to venture once more unto the breach, to be at the ever furthering mercies of factors outside my control, to let even the concept of whatever love is flourish once more, knowing what I know of how life and everything in it plays tricks on people ad nauseam, just seems like little more than an epic continuation of folly. Humanity truly is a superb set of tragedies. In even our most profound positivities we can find the gloomiest cloud in the slightest of corners. Reasons to be happy and find elation...just falter.

My most instinctual of responses has been to seek freedom, to be away from the mess of it all, away from all the complex interrelationships between people that plague their every move, wittingly or not. Alas, I shouldn't delve so deep. It doesn't lead to many cheerful things, nor is it able to find resolutions most of the time. But it is also true that by my nature I am and have always been a thinker, pondering over my own state and the state of humanity. When one sees an existence overrun by greed and self-interests and egomania and paranoia and endless hedonism and bigotry and baseless arrogance, where is the silver lining? Yes, I can restrain my vision to the personal, focus on what is near to me, leave off that which is far and out of my reach to change. But that won't alter the truth, what remains of society as it consumes the individual for its own sake, recharging its batteries by draining the life from people, people all too eager to give themselves up to some cause, any cause, greater than themselves, so they need not fear being alone in their state any longer. As if society's consumption was not enough, a person's own nature precedes it as it tries its hardest to consume one's self at every other turn, often unawares. So, which end is the one chosen? 

Perhaps the point is that people may be inspired to seek for themselves a better end by conclusion of this train of thought. That once the lion can be seen in its entirety is when it can at last be avoided. The hope remains, I hope Allah wills us all to see it through.