thoughted

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 

oh Life, you are but a needle, filled with allergies and hallucinogenic cures, bent on bringing out our stresses, then offering us what you would have us think will turn all momentary miseries into pleasure rest-assured. 

 

but it's a trick, of course, filling a human's emptiness with the physical, with the material, this can never work, it would never last, for we were made to be bound with something greater, higher, stronger, purer.  

imagine then, the estrangement and disillusion of one who cannot escape your clutches, one whom destiny weaves further into age and experiences, that i might live to witness my own connection with one astronomically opposite, and live to see my own humanity along with that of my beloved. 

what can I say? these bones and tendons are moving, a skeletal apparatus giving an accurate representation of living, but i think rather quite nearer to fading, there is no resonance near me, as i were a fish stranded on a land of terrestrial beings, a species inimical to whomsoever happens to be dissimilar.

 

~

 

i think He intends to test me to my core, as if that had not already happened, had i not been disintegrated into millions of pieces enough times over the years to remember the feeling but dread it ever re-appearing. maybe it is not dread, maybe it is a hardening, as He recollects me into something slightly newer at each revival, towards what end, i can never really tell, for i know this Life, it is one of up's and down's, highs and lows, pillars and pits, iron and prose, a place of which i've long been sated but He saturates its effects down into my soul, and often enough i find myself lacking a Mirror to diagnose and deconstruct this Life's alterations, its misconceptions, illusions, trying to have me wish i were part of its fabric rather than a thread simply wanting to be pulled. 

the only place i've ever had, the only place to which i've ever belonged, here, was you. it feels like a moment in hindsight, barely enough time to relish, but it happened, truly, i remember you sitting on that couch, legs tucked under you, all comfy and full of beautiful expectations, a smile and head leaning against an arm i have long wanted to hold near my own. i swear by Allah, i have no answers, all i have is a goal, a hope, among hopes. 'tis you. i cannot say i am enough, by any stretch. my weaknesses play in the back of my mind intrinsically, innately. where my resonance escapes to, i could not say. i suspect your quietude and distance took it, but we knew that was coming, sooner or later. some days, i have just a principle to hold on to, for nothing of what i seek i find, only shallowness and superficiality is my surrounding, and i think it deadens, slowly, every nerve ending it can find. how does one like me survive this Life? this is a question whose answer i am forced to meet every day of breathing, every moment of absence from one who would let me shine to my fullest. i am dimming, if only the body followed the soul on this path, it'd be a dissolution mutual instead of an experience to slowly tear me in half.