- in the name of Allah -
slowly but surely i'm losing the pieces of my past right before me, friends moving away, friends getting married, friends finding their way to responsibility and faith, and my own truck stuck in a ditch of inconsolability. seems like every reason i have to move ahead, another two keep me back. even still i wonder what defines true progress, for i knew of that one friend who, a few months younger than i, was married before in a union lasting but a few moons, so does this new swoon mean he's carried his nafs on through that chaos, or is it just another rougher tumble through a heap of weeds and thorns that all look alike in their beauty and scorn. of course i assume he's grown past those throes and now should relish a better place his acceptance past helped him sow. but what of me? my equations fail to yield immediate results, no apparent solutions, every other attempt seems like a past one only further diluted. trying to love again is a costly risk i hope i'm able to take, another fail and who knows if i ever manage again to bring sanity to the unsaved face. people i knew who used to know me, calls and text messages rummage through meetings long overdue and bonds of brotherhood left to be ravaged by time and the selfish threads of misery. it takes a few clicks to make that connection, to reawaken the deadened and lessened, but will i ever be ready to stare in the face the world that stares back with incrimination, damnation, only a stride short of all-out villification. every day in so many situations people all over do what they dont like to get what they think they want, but is that myriad of loss the same abyss i should step into? or is my perception by experience so deeply voided and reconstructed in disillusion so kingly annointed, that any effort could ever fly past the gates of thought where they were born in anonymity? as it usually is, thinking becomes a crutch to lean on when the outside only gets colder, when the rooms gets smaller, as life approaches closer to almost over. sleepwalking and daydreaming, two states simultaneously i find in myself in so many ways gasping instead of breathing, no gentle winds where my mind exists, only a past unfulfilled and future impossible to reckon in certainty. its late in the morning, calls to close lids and shutter whatever is 'other', becoming only more pronounced whilst truer meaning slips right on through
1.01.2007
12.27.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Citgo
why are some summer evenings more memorable than others, seeming at moments a time we treasure in history even though one among them was just a trifle's victory. goals and ambitions, sterns of ships bogged down in revision, life's outlying outlines appear to be the fine print that needs a second hand to make it legible to the oft-invisibilified, illiterately unsuspecting man. back to the point of initial, what was it about that chance encounter that kept a beaming face and quirky smile etched in stone-age memories whilst the rest of life is subject to yet another factory recall. paths once deemed convergent only diverged to a point thought definitively defined, leave it to fate and destiny to erase my paper-mache designs from expected and utopian to bewildered endlessly recurring cycles of justice repaid for what was given in kind. i miss the bliss of innocence, how mere ideas could sustain me through times of ridiculous ocurrences. still so, i've boiled it down to doing good to family, keeping alive those threads so tenuously taken for granted in any life thought independently lead. soon though, Allah-willing i have yet other bonds of faith and friendship scattered that need resuscitation, making the social social once again and harmony of co-existence another key intermittently accepted for all the many laughs and cries. i know that i need, what exactly remains a bit fuzzy, but what wonders even your card-board cutout could do to a garden teeming with potential, needing but the last few drops of meaning that this life cannot strip away, the last few drops of completion that reach inside souls to silence demons and awaken faith in the shade of reason.
Citgo
why are some summer evenings more memorable than others, seeming at moments a time we treasure in history even though one among them was just a trifle's victory. goals and ambitions, sterns of ships bogged down in revision, life's outlying outlines appear to be the fine print that needs a second hand to make it legible to the oft-invisibilified, illiterately unsuspecting man. back to the point of initial, what was it about that chance encounter that kept a beaming face and quirky smile etched in stone-age memories whilst the rest of life is subject to yet another factory recall. paths once deemed convergent only diverged to a point thought definitively defined, leave it to fate and destiny to erase my paper-mache designs from expected and utopian to bewildered endlessly recurring cycles of justice repaid for what was given in kind. i miss the bliss of innocence, how mere ideas could sustain me through times of ridiculous ocurrences. still so, i've boiled it down to doing good to family, keeping alive those threads so tenuously taken for granted in any life thought independently lead. soon though, Allah-willing i have yet other bonds of faith and friendship scattered that need resuscitation, making the social social once again and harmony of co-existence another key intermittently accepted for all the many laughs and cries. i know that i need, what exactly remains a bit fuzzy, but what wonders even your card-board cutout could do to a garden teeming with potential, needing but the last few drops of meaning that this life cannot strip away, the last few drops of completion that reach inside souls to silence demons and awaken faith in the shade of reason.
12.15.2006
- in the name of Allah -
stay awake or go to sleep, either way the boogeyman slowly closer creeps. fears and fancies cant stay buried under rugs any longer so they run amok in the world i call home but feel is a prison where company only means being alone. people shake their heads and stamp their feet, amazed that one such as me should prod along in the subterranean living barely as if life was an aquarium for someone else to live out their lives. being sick has me on ropes, coughing and wheezing, an ancient bloke in the final moments wondering when the curtains close and the stage act is at last over. i reach around curves and bends, seeking a means or an end, purpose or truth, something to live by in a world reduced by the capitalist to a scramble for money, but lost in the mad rush is the thought of happiness in the rough of predetermined diamond mines. my quarry can't keep me away from that envyless existence, to chase the haggard with a mop and keep the cafe clean for more important visitors. people i long for are rarely the people i'm able to see, its all confounded to dust whence it came in an era bygone so simply. compartmentalize, trivialize, shrivel, hold strings for, watch them dance till they fall over dead not with a snivel or smile, frown or smear, but tears of sadness lost in the midst of the audience's applause, another invisible man remains tautly invisible to placate and amuse the logistically constant herder who appears all but immovable. need to catch some sleep before it catches me, a short death opening wide its arms in the dead of night, an embrace of warmthful illusion, beckoning to mindlessness, impervious to care but penetrable by reason, it withers slowly as the season is winter and the cold white consumes the lost, who bickered whilst retreating.
stay awake or go to sleep, either way the boogeyman slowly closer creeps. fears and fancies cant stay buried under rugs any longer so they run amok in the world i call home but feel is a prison where company only means being alone. people shake their heads and stamp their feet, amazed that one such as me should prod along in the subterranean living barely as if life was an aquarium for someone else to live out their lives. being sick has me on ropes, coughing and wheezing, an ancient bloke in the final moments wondering when the curtains close and the stage act is at last over. i reach around curves and bends, seeking a means or an end, purpose or truth, something to live by in a world reduced by the capitalist to a scramble for money, but lost in the mad rush is the thought of happiness in the rough of predetermined diamond mines. my quarry can't keep me away from that envyless existence, to chase the haggard with a mop and keep the cafe clean for more important visitors. people i long for are rarely the people i'm able to see, its all confounded to dust whence it came in an era bygone so simply. compartmentalize, trivialize, shrivel, hold strings for, watch them dance till they fall over dead not with a snivel or smile, frown or smear, but tears of sadness lost in the midst of the audience's applause, another invisible man remains tautly invisible to placate and amuse the logistically constant herder who appears all but immovable. need to catch some sleep before it catches me, a short death opening wide its arms in the dead of night, an embrace of warmthful illusion, beckoning to mindlessness, impervious to care but penetrable by reason, it withers slowly as the season is winter and the cold white consumes the lost, who bickered whilst retreating.
12.04.2006
- in the name of Allah -
the past few weeks have been fairly telling, as I learn just who are those I thought I once knew so easily pigeonholed and ready to order, now a suv overturned on a overcrowded highway. life is a journey and our only choice is to take or face death. there is no in between when it comes to living. as a bartender on tv said: "i see two kinds of people in life: the living and the dying".
no railroads or trolleys, the world runs on drunken donuts of sugared out coffee. the modern era is proclaimed a new age, a place of better chances and opportunities, but look past the borders and u see quite a few refugees flocking and stammering, in half-stupidity thinking the place they long for is better than the one they come from. its the bliss of ignorance that attracted and attracts all those immigrants, they dont know much of custom but as their identity slips away it all becomes just another necessary continuum of life. my own struggles and by-lines dont find front page in the public's eye but its just a microcosm of how life has become so unpredictable, imagine the day when the titans beat the colts on a field goal to win at home. side tracks are plenty and finding focus rare, a gem in the clouds of mysterious fate swirling about in wait to give us the recompense for deeds we thought once long dead. i marvel at the notions some once had, being called, formerly, a holy man, a pillar of belief, of how these things crumble as ideas in one fell heap. who would i be from a past like that, falling in the world of the fallen where all you see are begging hands pounding on air-tight bank vaults. having or not, one or the other, a state of status quo unimaginably prevalent though ambivalence is present as peaceful prosperity sets precedents of utopian ideas being possibly evident. now where was the direction with which i point these words, that lost me a mile ago down the road of revelation, stopped by a herd of grazing sheep, the simplicity of calm never ceases to bring amazement...
the past few weeks have been fairly telling, as I learn just who are those I thought I once knew so easily pigeonholed and ready to order, now a suv overturned on a overcrowded highway. life is a journey and our only choice is to take or face death. there is no in between when it comes to living. as a bartender on tv said: "i see two kinds of people in life: the living and the dying".
no railroads or trolleys, the world runs on drunken donuts of sugared out coffee. the modern era is proclaimed a new age, a place of better chances and opportunities, but look past the borders and u see quite a few refugees flocking and stammering, in half-stupidity thinking the place they long for is better than the one they come from. its the bliss of ignorance that attracted and attracts all those immigrants, they dont know much of custom but as their identity slips away it all becomes just another necessary continuum of life. my own struggles and by-lines dont find front page in the public's eye but its just a microcosm of how life has become so unpredictable, imagine the day when the titans beat the colts on a field goal to win at home. side tracks are plenty and finding focus rare, a gem in the clouds of mysterious fate swirling about in wait to give us the recompense for deeds we thought once long dead. i marvel at the notions some once had, being called, formerly, a holy man, a pillar of belief, of how these things crumble as ideas in one fell heap. who would i be from a past like that, falling in the world of the fallen where all you see are begging hands pounding on air-tight bank vaults. having or not, one or the other, a state of status quo unimaginably prevalent though ambivalence is present as peaceful prosperity sets precedents of utopian ideas being possibly evident. now where was the direction with which i point these words, that lost me a mile ago down the road of revelation, stopped by a herd of grazing sheep, the simplicity of calm never ceases to bring amazement...
11.13.2006
- in the name of Allah -
After reading an article about foreign nations arming Somali factions, I began to wonder a point that many others have brought up before: why, for all the other, various labels and ethnicities possible, does the American media refer to the warring factions as "Islamists" or "Islamic militants"? Why should they not be "African militants" or "Somaliists"? The question's answer lies in the adjective 'Islamic' and what it denotes. Thinking it over a few minutes, I realized the world knows that Islam is different from any other religion, more important to global affairs than any other religion, and perhaps most threatening to foreign interests overseas. Why is this unique? Because no other religion comes close to as much attention as Islam receives, albeit most of it negatively portrayed. It occurs to me that the key to changing the world, then, is Islam. It is change that people fear first and foremost, even though almost all will acknowledge that that is exactly what the world needs. The question arises how will people come to accept the change that is so needed, change to quell the poverty, strife, hunger, war, struggle, all of which run rampant in all the parts of the world we don't see. The western governments believe that to win this battle requires military force, intelligence gathering, and pre-emptive strikes. The problem is that it is not terrorism they are fighting, it is not evil they are fighting, but rather change. The thing about change is that it will always come, whether we like it or not. People want to remain in their comfortable positions of power, wealth, influence. They resist any 'threat' to those thrones, but as every nation of men in the past has found out, it is only a matter of time until truth surfaces amidst the cries of protest.
(http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/africa/11/13/somalia.reut/index.html)
After reading an article about foreign nations arming Somali factions, I began to wonder a point that many others have brought up before: why, for all the other, various labels and ethnicities possible, does the American media refer to the warring factions as "Islamists" or "Islamic militants"? Why should they not be "African militants" or "Somaliists"? The question's answer lies in the adjective 'Islamic' and what it denotes. Thinking it over a few minutes, I realized the world knows that Islam is different from any other religion, more important to global affairs than any other religion, and perhaps most threatening to foreign interests overseas. Why is this unique? Because no other religion comes close to as much attention as Islam receives, albeit most of it negatively portrayed. It occurs to me that the key to changing the world, then, is Islam. It is change that people fear first and foremost, even though almost all will acknowledge that that is exactly what the world needs. The question arises how will people come to accept the change that is so needed, change to quell the poverty, strife, hunger, war, struggle, all of which run rampant in all the parts of the world we don't see. The western governments believe that to win this battle requires military force, intelligence gathering, and pre-emptive strikes. The problem is that it is not terrorism they are fighting, it is not evil they are fighting, but rather change. The thing about change is that it will always come, whether we like it or not. People want to remain in their comfortable positions of power, wealth, influence. They resist any 'threat' to those thrones, but as every nation of men in the past has found out, it is only a matter of time until truth surfaces amidst the cries of protest.
(http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/africa/11/13/somalia.reut/index.html)
11.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Reading over the past words I’ve written, it’s pretty easy to see how up until now my destiny’s been scripted. Ask me a thousand times if I’d believe that some dreams could be impeded by glass ceilings and I’d tell you you’re crazy, but that’s precisely how it seems. Can’t predict a game much less life, tripping over possibilities with hardship the only thing in sight. But damn, how ignorant was I back then, thinking I knew how to handle people, knew how to give the words of comfort, when all I did was build black holes so other people’s dreams along with my own would eventually fold. Its wickedly fantastical how life seems to me now an eternally vigilant sabbatical, the shades over my eyes but for some damn reason I’m still not blind; I see clearly the pits and the falls but I go willingly without another motive to stir from an impetus of apathy, to the point where another claims its insanity. So I’ve come to know, from everything I’ve been through, what it is that I’ve learned all along: I’ve learned that I know nothing, that every assumption I’ve made is rooted in folly as it was probability all along without basis in the complexity of reality. As Nightcrawler once posed the question to Logan, would it hurt so much to see the world through different eyes? To maybe wake up one day in relief rather than having a feeling of pain inside. That could be my prescription right there, that what I see isn’t what’s really there but a mystery my subconscious loves to make as taunting for my fear. The can of worms opens and the sight isn’t pretty, notions of time and space go fuzzy as all becomes one in a senseless haze of panic strangely without worry. Words fail to describe how self loathing can carry a soul to its grave prematurely moping the loss of something never had but imagined, my world a visor of supposed protection dissolving away as the depths internal yearn for what has yet to happen. Maybe that’s the savior: the chance of a tomorrow effervescently ever-present, sometimes radiant, sometimes purgatory’s final descendant. Darkness consumes its own direction, as it can’t be sustained in a soul always leaning on idealism’s predilection. As the falling fall and become the fallen, strings from behind pull slowly, back to a point where it’s only a simmering cauldron. But what remains of those assumptions and theories?
Reading over the past words I’ve written, it’s pretty easy to see how up until now my destiny’s been scripted. Ask me a thousand times if I’d believe that some dreams could be impeded by glass ceilings and I’d tell you you’re crazy, but that’s precisely how it seems. Can’t predict a game much less life, tripping over possibilities with hardship the only thing in sight. But damn, how ignorant was I back then, thinking I knew how to handle people, knew how to give the words of comfort, when all I did was build black holes so other people’s dreams along with my own would eventually fold. Its wickedly fantastical how life seems to me now an eternally vigilant sabbatical, the shades over my eyes but for some damn reason I’m still not blind; I see clearly the pits and the falls but I go willingly without another motive to stir from an impetus of apathy, to the point where another claims its insanity. So I’ve come to know, from everything I’ve been through, what it is that I’ve learned all along: I’ve learned that I know nothing, that every assumption I’ve made is rooted in folly as it was probability all along without basis in the complexity of reality. As Nightcrawler once posed the question to Logan, would it hurt so much to see the world through different eyes? To maybe wake up one day in relief rather than having a feeling of pain inside. That could be my prescription right there, that what I see isn’t what’s really there but a mystery my subconscious loves to make as taunting for my fear. The can of worms opens and the sight isn’t pretty, notions of time and space go fuzzy as all becomes one in a senseless haze of panic strangely without worry. Words fail to describe how self loathing can carry a soul to its grave prematurely moping the loss of something never had but imagined, my world a visor of supposed protection dissolving away as the depths internal yearn for what has yet to happen. Maybe that’s the savior: the chance of a tomorrow effervescently ever-present, sometimes radiant, sometimes purgatory’s final descendant. Darkness consumes its own direction, as it can’t be sustained in a soul always leaning on idealism’s predilection. As the falling fall and become the fallen, strings from behind pull slowly, back to a point where it’s only a simmering cauldron. But what remains of those assumptions and theories?
11.06.2006
- in the name of Allah -
limited perceptions of mine frozen by time, isolation in such high doses it all seems frivolously designed. knocked sociality more than once, lost the argument more than twice, wrinkling the nose just doesn't bring the same feel inside. issues and wonder, questions without an answer, days roll smoothly along with only the self to find meaning from purpose cleft asunder. strings of apathy reach around obstacles and bends to try and take a hold of me, warmly embracing without worries or cares, matters for lesser mortals it pleads. can't let go again or else there may be no turning back, not giving a damn one more time and truly there might be no damn left to make even breathing seem worth the effort away slowly seeping. so mirrors should be friends or enemies, when no one else seems to bother with them anyway, shouldn't even care to please. its become about what has to happen rather than what should, for the ideal's been buried under sands of relic and value, with only the worthless left to represent the 'good and true'. my question at times is what to do, is simply the self refined enough or do we stretch our hands to those less fortunate, hoping to teach a thing I myself am ignorant of. I find there are no easy answers, no one step solutions, no formulaic equations to make life like math and all the complication just another part of living diluted. next steps seem like which next ropes to hang the hats off our heads first rather than our brains at least, only a time delayed for their moment of reckoning approaches without warning or cease. I can't scream insanity any more, its a plea of which I'm already guilty, so faith is just about the last pill left worth taking, the last remedy of remedies for spiritual aching. in this last poised stance, there are no spells to cast, no pain killers to lessen the past, but only hard heart aches to stomach and digest with a long gulp of patience to finally be free from dread. maybe tomorrow is a better day, and this possiblity is all I have, I've seen yesterday, and its only a drag.
limited perceptions of mine frozen by time, isolation in such high doses it all seems frivolously designed. knocked sociality more than once, lost the argument more than twice, wrinkling the nose just doesn't bring the same feel inside. issues and wonder, questions without an answer, days roll smoothly along with only the self to find meaning from purpose cleft asunder. strings of apathy reach around obstacles and bends to try and take a hold of me, warmly embracing without worries or cares, matters for lesser mortals it pleads. can't let go again or else there may be no turning back, not giving a damn one more time and truly there might be no damn left to make even breathing seem worth the effort away slowly seeping. so mirrors should be friends or enemies, when no one else seems to bother with them anyway, shouldn't even care to please. its become about what has to happen rather than what should, for the ideal's been buried under sands of relic and value, with only the worthless left to represent the 'good and true'. my question at times is what to do, is simply the self refined enough or do we stretch our hands to those less fortunate, hoping to teach a thing I myself am ignorant of. I find there are no easy answers, no one step solutions, no formulaic equations to make life like math and all the complication just another part of living diluted. next steps seem like which next ropes to hang the hats off our heads first rather than our brains at least, only a time delayed for their moment of reckoning approaches without warning or cease. I can't scream insanity any more, its a plea of which I'm already guilty, so faith is just about the last pill left worth taking, the last remedy of remedies for spiritual aching. in this last poised stance, there are no spells to cast, no pain killers to lessen the past, but only hard heart aches to stomach and digest with a long gulp of patience to finally be free from dread. maybe tomorrow is a better day, and this possiblity is all I have, I've seen yesterday, and its only a drag.
11.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
So after the last post, I was just thinking how easy it was to lose bonds forged in the course of life. how should one act? would attempting to retain some threads of semblance be a vain hope overstretched in the shadows of night, or a valiant effort to make sure the sunrise in fact goes appreciated for once? I am not quite certain, but there is one thing that is clear. if something is to be lost, it is not without our own hand in its doing so, whether we are able to see that reason or not. having said this, with loss still fresh, there is another mindset of which one should be aware. letting go but not forgetting may be the key. one cannot control per se who comes and goes on a personal level, but the distinct feeling one has in regard to another can most definently play a role. so, on that note, I choose not to detach myself, not to let go, yet also not to harbor or hope. it isn't necessarily for me this would be done, though I do take in how it might affect me, but also perhaps the belief that two can or may become more than just one.
So after the last post, I was just thinking how easy it was to lose bonds forged in the course of life. how should one act? would attempting to retain some threads of semblance be a vain hope overstretched in the shadows of night, or a valiant effort to make sure the sunrise in fact goes appreciated for once? I am not quite certain, but there is one thing that is clear. if something is to be lost, it is not without our own hand in its doing so, whether we are able to see that reason or not. having said this, with loss still fresh, there is another mindset of which one should be aware. letting go but not forgetting may be the key. one cannot control per se who comes and goes on a personal level, but the distinct feeling one has in regard to another can most definently play a role. so, on that note, I choose not to detach myself, not to let go, yet also not to harbor or hope. it isn't necessarily for me this would be done, though I do take in how it might affect me, but also perhaps the belief that two can or may become more than just one.
11.01.2006
- in the name of Allah -
they say some people we meet in life come for a reason, some for a season, and some for a lifetime. I'll take this moment to acknowledge having known someone for a season/reason, only the parting is, predictably, bittersweet. clearly, only Allah knows if two should ever meet again later on down the line, but for the moment, I am both gladdened (new word?) by having grown as a person because of this someone, but saddened to part from them. its part of the way Allah does His thing, showing us people at points in life for reasons we don't immediately comprehend, but only realize in hindsight. alhamdulillah for it all. in other news, it may not be initially apparent, but the ice around the land of my imaan seems finally to have thawed, and truth prevails.
one ponders the next step, what the path will hold tomorrow, what perils to be faced, what what fear masked as adventure will abound next. the most important thing I can recollect at this very moment, about anything and everything in general, is this: that beyond our daily lives, beyond our daily struggles, there is a place we have yet to know, a place where only eternity of answers exist for lifetimes of questions. watching a tv show, someone said
"Evolution is often an imperfect and often violent process. Morality loses its meaning; the question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice: survive, or perish." - (Heroes, 10.30.06)
that phrase is brilliant, and were its scope inclusive of anything past death, it would be entirely meaningless. the 'point of it all', the meaning belief everywhere gives, is a purpose in life that yields in death. if we live as if all we have to live for is these 70 or so years, then there exist no substantial reasons, no 'real' grounds, to live life by any rule or system, for any law to mean anything. the end result being, there is never just 'one simple choice'. there will always be many choices. all that remains is for people to choose. (reference: Pascal's wager)
they say some people we meet in life come for a reason, some for a season, and some for a lifetime. I'll take this moment to acknowledge having known someone for a season/reason, only the parting is, predictably, bittersweet. clearly, only Allah knows if two should ever meet again later on down the line, but for the moment, I am both gladdened (new word?) by having grown as a person because of this someone, but saddened to part from them. its part of the way Allah does His thing, showing us people at points in life for reasons we don't immediately comprehend, but only realize in hindsight. alhamdulillah for it all. in other news, it may not be initially apparent, but the ice around the land of my imaan seems finally to have thawed, and truth prevails.
one ponders the next step, what the path will hold tomorrow, what perils to be faced, what what fear masked as adventure will abound next. the most important thing I can recollect at this very moment, about anything and everything in general, is this: that beyond our daily lives, beyond our daily struggles, there is a place we have yet to know, a place where only eternity of answers exist for lifetimes of questions. watching a tv show, someone said
"Evolution is often an imperfect and often violent process. Morality loses its meaning; the question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice: survive, or perish." - (Heroes, 10.30.06)
that phrase is brilliant, and were its scope inclusive of anything past death, it would be entirely meaningless. the 'point of it all', the meaning belief everywhere gives, is a purpose in life that yields in death. if we live as if all we have to live for is these 70 or so years, then there exist no substantial reasons, no 'real' grounds, to live life by any rule or system, for any law to mean anything. the end result being, there is never just 'one simple choice'. there will always be many choices. all that remains is for people to choose. (reference: Pascal's wager)
10.28.2006
- in the name of Allah -
there is no in between for me, even though I'm in the middle. cradles of identity in crisis, revolving doors camouflage the individual. so many parts so contradictory, can't combine a cynic and pacifist in one to relish in the moral victory. paths meant to be taken end up being given short shrift, the world is alive but so carelessly in drift. people reach for the skies, land on their asses, proclaim the world as frauds, only themselves being hopeless and hapless. coping and learning, moping and yearning, necessities drenched in obscenity become simply more disconcerting. ironic I should lose to gain, perspective isn't loss, truth in both danger and name. beginning with depression, finishing with acquiescence, our imaginings a mirage longing for profundity with acceptance. humans evolved, yet trace descendants still exist, either theories are lies, or fables perpetuated myth. no attachment though still serenity, perturbation minimal though of alas plenty. to close, simply cease, desist continuing, just may find a lasting peace.
there is no in between for me, even though I'm in the middle. cradles of identity in crisis, revolving doors camouflage the individual. so many parts so contradictory, can't combine a cynic and pacifist in one to relish in the moral victory. paths meant to be taken end up being given short shrift, the world is alive but so carelessly in drift. people reach for the skies, land on their asses, proclaim the world as frauds, only themselves being hopeless and hapless. coping and learning, moping and yearning, necessities drenched in obscenity become simply more disconcerting. ironic I should lose to gain, perspective isn't loss, truth in both danger and name. beginning with depression, finishing with acquiescence, our imaginings a mirage longing for profundity with acceptance. humans evolved, yet trace descendants still exist, either theories are lies, or fables perpetuated myth. no attachment though still serenity, perturbation minimal though of alas plenty. to close, simply cease, desist continuing, just may find a lasting peace.
10.25.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I rode a black steed on my way toward a darkened sky where the sun never shone, but before the wind could carry away my fear something pulled back inside, and shadow failed once again. What crossing is there for me to seek, what bridge between now and then that I've yet to meet? Why do I feel as if I'm searching for a piece of glass in a sea of sand? They're both the same but different in my hand. Maybe reflections of moments past is what I long for, only too conscience with the realization of which door they're behind. Certainty is rare, tranquility a buried gem, can't find a thing, can barely see the path I've done. Words becoming impossible to string together, a thinning rope I can't hold onto alone forever.
I rode a black steed on my way toward a darkened sky where the sun never shone, but before the wind could carry away my fear something pulled back inside, and shadow failed once again. What crossing is there for me to seek, what bridge between now and then that I've yet to meet? Why do I feel as if I'm searching for a piece of glass in a sea of sand? They're both the same but different in my hand. Maybe reflections of moments past is what I long for, only too conscience with the realization of which door they're behind. Certainty is rare, tranquility a buried gem, can't find a thing, can barely see the path I've done. Words becoming impossible to string together, a thinning rope I can't hold onto alone forever.
10.23.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Indeed, it is over. Whats been different now from times past? Now has no meaning, now has lost its glitz, its shine, its allure. Innocence and naivete made things so easy to follow along without having to find purpose in the moment. Lose those two, and every time you try going somewhere, you ask yourself why, how, if it really matters. Sometimes, we reach the wrong conclusions, becoming limited by our own selves. It seems so significant that I feel physically sick, probably because of it. Inconsistencies between the soul and mind, between desire and need, become physically manifested when it becomes that big a deal. So what needs are there unmet? I am blessed with food, shelter, clothing, a loving family, but yet there remains something elusive missing. As for wants, I ridicule their very notion, so they only receive momentary attention and poof are gone again.
You might say its Islam I'm subconsciously seeking. Thats possible, although there was a time I 'had' it, yet still there was an unmistakable absence of something or other. You might say its a significant other I'm seeking. That wouldn't really be possibly, simply for that fact I've accepted the part I have to play (able to support) before that part of life can come to fruition. Is it possible then, the very thing I have disdained for the longest time, the concept of socialization, could be at the heart of the missingness? The paradox is there. I dislike excessive socializing, preferring a handful of meaning to a bucket of crap. It is true however, many relationships with people I'd formerly been well acquainted with have been broken in time. Is it as simple as reconnecting with kindred spirits? Only time will tell, and inshAllah, before it becomes a thing foregone.
Indeed, it is over. Whats been different now from times past? Now has no meaning, now has lost its glitz, its shine, its allure. Innocence and naivete made things so easy to follow along without having to find purpose in the moment. Lose those two, and every time you try going somewhere, you ask yourself why, how, if it really matters. Sometimes, we reach the wrong conclusions, becoming limited by our own selves. It seems so significant that I feel physically sick, probably because of it. Inconsistencies between the soul and mind, between desire and need, become physically manifested when it becomes that big a deal. So what needs are there unmet? I am blessed with food, shelter, clothing, a loving family, but yet there remains something elusive missing. As for wants, I ridicule their very notion, so they only receive momentary attention and poof are gone again.
You might say its Islam I'm subconsciously seeking. Thats possible, although there was a time I 'had' it, yet still there was an unmistakable absence of something or other. You might say its a significant other I'm seeking. That wouldn't really be possibly, simply for that fact I've accepted the part I have to play (able to support) before that part of life can come to fruition. Is it possible then, the very thing I have disdained for the longest time, the concept of socialization, could be at the heart of the missingness? The paradox is there. I dislike excessive socializing, preferring a handful of meaning to a bucket of crap. It is true however, many relationships with people I'd formerly been well acquainted with have been broken in time. Is it as simple as reconnecting with kindred spirits? Only time will tell, and inshAllah, before it becomes a thing foregone.
10.19.2006
- in the name of Allah -
With ramadhan almost over, one wonders ahead to whats next. Kind of ironic since it seems I made so little of the month while I had the chance, but its this time of year that brings out the most ironically cynic part of me that begs the question (to others) why should these days be any different in terms of how we treat them...though I can myself answer that apparent predicament. These days are different, they feel different, as if theres a light rain on the world, a soothing rain that brings a little peace to me, if only I had motive to seek it out. So to what end were these last 30 or so days coming soon to a close? Truly, only Allah knows His wisdom; humanity plays out its part and comes to know sometimes too late. Interesting to note, but I think that even if people knew or could know what really was to come tomorrow, they would still make the same mistakes over again. Which brings us to the point, how exactly humanity is defined, how it will define itself, how the just are seperate from the injust, and so on.
In any case, after a recent postulation from a friend regarding my own search of a passion, the answer hit that same night..what have I done all throughout my life, when times have been rough to when they've been idyllic? Poetry. As off as it may have been, thats the utensil I use in spilling the guts out my mind, of finding light at the end of narrower and narrower tunnels. And so, encore it goes.
a passion pruned, a mystery mourned, awoke the stargazer to find the world's been scorned. the planet spinned on its axis faster than he could have imagined, yet time lay still, a throbbing heart waiting for its moment of ashes. where were the spellbooks, the potions, the magicks of magic past? just when it mattered most, his lofty reverie failed him and it all came to crash. dull thuds and torrential knocks, reality's visitation was one he'd pay heed to else revoke his sanity to thoughts within a prison locked. the door of senses slowly open creaked, haunting memories in tow, for just another grave of dreams. no funeral, no tears, no black garb, only many needless fears laid to rest. though the coffins may never close, their runes are silent- in place of vigils, a darkened rose. there is no aftermath, no going back to the scene, fate stole the gazer's lines, leaving him speechlessly serene. its not often that an actor finds purpose from an unknown script, but when the roads are finally built, its hard not to appreciate what is.
With ramadhan almost over, one wonders ahead to whats next. Kind of ironic since it seems I made so little of the month while I had the chance, but its this time of year that brings out the most ironically cynic part of me that begs the question (to others) why should these days be any different in terms of how we treat them...though I can myself answer that apparent predicament. These days are different, they feel different, as if theres a light rain on the world, a soothing rain that brings a little peace to me, if only I had motive to seek it out. So to what end were these last 30 or so days coming soon to a close? Truly, only Allah knows His wisdom; humanity plays out its part and comes to know sometimes too late. Interesting to note, but I think that even if people knew or could know what really was to come tomorrow, they would still make the same mistakes over again. Which brings us to the point, how exactly humanity is defined, how it will define itself, how the just are seperate from the injust, and so on.
In any case, after a recent postulation from a friend regarding my own search of a passion, the answer hit that same night..what have I done all throughout my life, when times have been rough to when they've been idyllic? Poetry. As off as it may have been, thats the utensil I use in spilling the guts out my mind, of finding light at the end of narrower and narrower tunnels. And so, encore it goes.
a passion pruned, a mystery mourned, awoke the stargazer to find the world's been scorned. the planet spinned on its axis faster than he could have imagined, yet time lay still, a throbbing heart waiting for its moment of ashes. where were the spellbooks, the potions, the magicks of magic past? just when it mattered most, his lofty reverie failed him and it all came to crash. dull thuds and torrential knocks, reality's visitation was one he'd pay heed to else revoke his sanity to thoughts within a prison locked. the door of senses slowly open creaked, haunting memories in tow, for just another grave of dreams. no funeral, no tears, no black garb, only many needless fears laid to rest. though the coffins may never close, their runes are silent- in place of vigils, a darkened rose. there is no aftermath, no going back to the scene, fate stole the gazer's lines, leaving him speechlessly serene. its not often that an actor finds purpose from an unknown script, but when the roads are finally built, its hard not to appreciate what is.
10.13.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I imagine on this breezy chill of a fall afternoon, how it must be for countless numbers of people around the world, people who do not contend with their own selves as foes, but rather must face the harsh realities around them, battling hunger, poverty, strife as often they have time for breath. Their challenge is outside for them, in plain sight, but by no means as easy as seeing the obstacle. I compare that to myself, one who's greatest obstacle in life thus far has been his own mind, his own nafs. There have few, if any necessities, of which I have been deprived, and almost as few wants I have not had fulfilled along the way. Is my journey any easier or any more difficult than those who haven't homes or whose children have been lost in senseless conflict? I can't imagine it is. My only hope is that rather than becoming enamored in my own difficulties, I should join those select few who give a damn about the rest of the world and strive every day to bring it tangible peace, peace not hidden in cloaks of supposed democracy, but peace in plates of hot food, in bottles of clean drink, and perhaps most importantly, in rejoined pieces of families broken apart.
I imagine on this breezy chill of a fall afternoon, how it must be for countless numbers of people around the world, people who do not contend with their own selves as foes, but rather must face the harsh realities around them, battling hunger, poverty, strife as often they have time for breath. Their challenge is outside for them, in plain sight, but by no means as easy as seeing the obstacle. I compare that to myself, one who's greatest obstacle in life thus far has been his own mind, his own nafs. There have few, if any necessities, of which I have been deprived, and almost as few wants I have not had fulfilled along the way. Is my journey any easier or any more difficult than those who haven't homes or whose children have been lost in senseless conflict? I can't imagine it is. My only hope is that rather than becoming enamored in my own difficulties, I should join those select few who give a damn about the rest of the world and strive every day to bring it tangible peace, peace not hidden in cloaks of supposed democracy, but peace in plates of hot food, in bottles of clean drink, and perhaps most importantly, in rejoined pieces of families broken apart.
10.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
alas, time never ceases. things we take for granted often come back to us when we least expect them. alh, a calc quiz went well today, a first in that class. I wonder where communism went bad, maybe it was the lure of power and money? who knows.
few words left to speak as the mind finds its niche in the land of peace, though trifles arent so trifling when creditors and hurricane winds are both at the front door knocking, wanting a piece of your pie slice. with only crumbs left in crisis, how will you feed the wolves of fate and greed? there almost no easy answers, no shortcuts short enough, no solution without a method lost in the annals of collected dust. it all comes full circle as you either put the jigsaw puzzle together or lay mired in trenches of what's already been done. along the way of this tumultuous path, is there time to smell the roses, time to seek out sweet scents past the fences everyone's holding? maybe there's time to climb one or two, just in case those souls carry traces of Jannah's musk and need a little trust to be carried on through. its true there are no portals to sucess or happiness, but taken a bit at a time, you can build a monument of prosperity from shards of indigenously cynical reality. all it requires is time and some TLC, a little motivation, and love for Allah in large quantities.
alas, time never ceases. things we take for granted often come back to us when we least expect them. alh, a calc quiz went well today, a first in that class. I wonder where communism went bad, maybe it was the lure of power and money? who knows.
few words left to speak as the mind finds its niche in the land of peace, though trifles arent so trifling when creditors and hurricane winds are both at the front door knocking, wanting a piece of your pie slice. with only crumbs left in crisis, how will you feed the wolves of fate and greed? there almost no easy answers, no shortcuts short enough, no solution without a method lost in the annals of collected dust. it all comes full circle as you either put the jigsaw puzzle together or lay mired in trenches of what's already been done. along the way of this tumultuous path, is there time to smell the roses, time to seek out sweet scents past the fences everyone's holding? maybe there's time to climb one or two, just in case those souls carry traces of Jannah's musk and need a little trust to be carried on through. its true there are no portals to sucess or happiness, but taken a bit at a time, you can build a monument of prosperity from shards of indigenously cynical reality. all it requires is time and some TLC, a little motivation, and love for Allah in large quantities.
10.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
my cat
he looked into my eyes with a little suspicion, a little bit of wonder, a little bit of why, scars and scratches seemed to count off the tally of fate without even a shadow's glimpse of the love underneath. funny how sometimes we reach and we clutch for the very things we so easily push away, how every one of our wants become musts, how distant possibilities become certainties in league with our distrust. we seek power fame and acceptance but none of those things bring love without a whirlstorm of regrettable penance. maybe if our walls fall down for just a split second's time, we can open our eyes and see beyond the colorless blinds that impede sight and progress of time; maybe if we stop battling the tides and instead rejuvenate the truth, it just might overcome the haze of lies and spread the hand of innocence and vision lost early on in youth.
my cat
he looked into my eyes with a little suspicion, a little bit of wonder, a little bit of why, scars and scratches seemed to count off the tally of fate without even a shadow's glimpse of the love underneath. funny how sometimes we reach and we clutch for the very things we so easily push away, how every one of our wants become musts, how distant possibilities become certainties in league with our distrust. we seek power fame and acceptance but none of those things bring love without a whirlstorm of regrettable penance. maybe if our walls fall down for just a split second's time, we can open our eyes and see beyond the colorless blinds that impede sight and progress of time; maybe if we stop battling the tides and instead rejuvenate the truth, it just might overcome the haze of lies and spread the hand of innocence and vision lost early on in youth.
9.25.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Alh, ramadan has started and it already seems to be bringing in a peaceful aura so dearly missed from before. The question, though,incessantly remains: where are we going? what are we doing? I think much of life is a continual, gradual build-up of coming to know the self. As my own resistance and distaste for incorrigible incongruities of fate with religion and life subside, things are less cynical, less pessimistic. It doesn't mean that optimism has found its roots, yet, for sure. But, as with everything else we expose ourselves to, what begins also has an end, though in some respect humanity is the only (purpose for) exception to that rule; the state and nature of the soul is granted eternity from a singular point of creation. Why, how, morally yes or no, these are all questions I have stopped attempting to discern, for they cannot be. Our answers are simple and rehersed enough to fool the first glance or the second cursory one, but upon further, logical, examination, there are found many things one simply cannot explain/tackle/simplify/ennumerate/delinate/grasp/etc. Perhaps the only consistency I have found in life, albeit one that jumps and leaps over time (so you never know when), is that what you put forth is what you will receive in return. Treat others with respect, and at some point respect will find its way back to you. Dog the world, dog those 'beneath' you, and at some time or other, you will find yourself at the shorter end of the stick. I believe the same holds true for how much 'faith' we place in Allah. Place much, and one learns patience and steadfastness as primary qualities. Place little, and one finds only questions with no answers and solitude with no companion. Slowly, I ease back on track- beginning as usual, in my head. Alhamdulillah for it, as its something as spontaneous as it is gradual in coming. The one who spawned the cracking of the dams should be thanked, so thank you sal and may Allah reward you plenty now and then, ameen. Now, I need sleep for class/suhoor iA.
ma'asalaam.
Alh, ramadan has started and it already seems to be bringing in a peaceful aura so dearly missed from before. The question, though,incessantly remains: where are we going? what are we doing? I think much of life is a continual, gradual build-up of coming to know the self. As my own resistance and distaste for incorrigible incongruities of fate with religion and life subside, things are less cynical, less pessimistic. It doesn't mean that optimism has found its roots, yet, for sure. But, as with everything else we expose ourselves to, what begins also has an end, though in some respect humanity is the only (purpose for) exception to that rule; the state and nature of the soul is granted eternity from a singular point of creation. Why, how, morally yes or no, these are all questions I have stopped attempting to discern, for they cannot be. Our answers are simple and rehersed enough to fool the first glance or the second cursory one, but upon further, logical, examination, there are found many things one simply cannot explain/tackle/simplify/ennumerate/delinate/grasp/etc. Perhaps the only consistency I have found in life, albeit one that jumps and leaps over time (so you never know when), is that what you put forth is what you will receive in return. Treat others with respect, and at some point respect will find its way back to you. Dog the world, dog those 'beneath' you, and at some time or other, you will find yourself at the shorter end of the stick. I believe the same holds true for how much 'faith' we place in Allah. Place much, and one learns patience and steadfastness as primary qualities. Place little, and one finds only questions with no answers and solitude with no companion. Slowly, I ease back on track- beginning as usual, in my head. Alhamdulillah for it, as its something as spontaneous as it is gradual in coming. The one who spawned the cracking of the dams should be thanked, so thank you sal and may Allah reward you plenty now and then, ameen. Now, I need sleep for class/suhoor iA.
ma'asalaam.
9.07.2006
- in the name of Allah -
sometimes I find that caring can be just as detrimental as being apathetic, though in some ways that might make sense. imagine living life on any/either extreme; what does that set you up for? granted that life, in reality, is often always never unanimous or one-sided or open-and-shut as people think it is, it would mean that attaching dogma of the soul to either end of the spectrum is akin to asking for a letdown, in more ways than one. I find that neutrality is one of the safest places in life, somewhat akin to being in one's own world, except for allowing empathy with anyone and everyone else while maintaining a distance. lately I've been thinking about theories, not specific ones, but the idea of how much they really mean to people in everyday life. as it turns out, I honestly cant say I'd give a damn about them.
in some ways, the truth is always clear. its that people never want to see it. seeing personalized plates with personalized palattes makes more sense to most than seeing a whole, USDA Grade-A egg in the place of a steamed crab. it isnt always easy to distinguish truth, and it probably is a fact that every single position in life, from those of criminals to those of saints, has a main, central focus, that is, at surface, impeccably sound. I take that to mean that the truth, or parts of it, lies in everything. nothing can be a complete lie because we have the ability to attribute meaning, something no machine or statistical formula can do. but, is partial truth enough? I dont think it is. to this day, I dont know how people can look beyond what they want to see, without affecting their vision with their own bias. I think that I see the truth, as distateful or disliked it may be, and yet it is better that I do so instead of ignoring it or blasphemying it. in any case, the truth cant entirely be found within the self, simply because human beings are incomplete. we combine the good with the bad, and live as if everything was ok (or not). because of this, we have to look outside ourselves, get in touch with our inner humanity and soul.
eventually, we should ask "can life exist without purpose?". if you think it can be lived without purpose, I'd suggest go jumping off a bridge. if you think it can't be, I'd say you're on the right track. wonder why? let's use the basic instict of the nature of reason itself. we observe a law of nature that says actions which animals do tend to have meaning, to achieve some productive or destructive end, though never denying themselves the right to be. if I were to take the reason/logic from that statement, put it in a chair beside me, and interview it, the very first self-right it would claim would be that of existence. what thing would want something less than self-perpetuation? hence, reason firstly would want to "live" and not die, that being the order of nature. if it asserts the right of existence, we should probe deeper and likely we would reach the point of contention of all theologians and philosophers: what was before then, if it was meant to exist? in what defense would reason reply? in the very least, it would probably lead us to seek answers of more depth, more sophistry perhaps, than ones we usually settle for.
but a simple analogy may suffice: were life to be without purpose, then it would like having a bottle without a bottle cap; looking at whats inside cant quench your thirst, so what else is there except to open the bottle and find out whats inside?
sometimes I find that caring can be just as detrimental as being apathetic, though in some ways that might make sense. imagine living life on any/either extreme; what does that set you up for? granted that life, in reality, is often always never unanimous or one-sided or open-and-shut as people think it is, it would mean that attaching dogma of the soul to either end of the spectrum is akin to asking for a letdown, in more ways than one. I find that neutrality is one of the safest places in life, somewhat akin to being in one's own world, except for allowing empathy with anyone and everyone else while maintaining a distance. lately I've been thinking about theories, not specific ones, but the idea of how much they really mean to people in everyday life. as it turns out, I honestly cant say I'd give a damn about them.
in some ways, the truth is always clear. its that people never want to see it. seeing personalized plates with personalized palattes makes more sense to most than seeing a whole, USDA Grade-A egg in the place of a steamed crab. it isnt always easy to distinguish truth, and it probably is a fact that every single position in life, from those of criminals to those of saints, has a main, central focus, that is, at surface, impeccably sound. I take that to mean that the truth, or parts of it, lies in everything. nothing can be a complete lie because we have the ability to attribute meaning, something no machine or statistical formula can do. but, is partial truth enough? I dont think it is. to this day, I dont know how people can look beyond what they want to see, without affecting their vision with their own bias. I think that I see the truth, as distateful or disliked it may be, and yet it is better that I do so instead of ignoring it or blasphemying it. in any case, the truth cant entirely be found within the self, simply because human beings are incomplete. we combine the good with the bad, and live as if everything was ok (or not). because of this, we have to look outside ourselves, get in touch with our inner humanity and soul.
eventually, we should ask "can life exist without purpose?". if you think it can be lived without purpose, I'd suggest go jumping off a bridge. if you think it can't be, I'd say you're on the right track. wonder why? let's use the basic instict of the nature of reason itself. we observe a law of nature that says actions which animals do tend to have meaning, to achieve some productive or destructive end, though never denying themselves the right to be. if I were to take the reason/logic from that statement, put it in a chair beside me, and interview it, the very first self-right it would claim would be that of existence. what thing would want something less than self-perpetuation? hence, reason firstly would want to "live" and not die, that being the order of nature. if it asserts the right of existence, we should probe deeper and likely we would reach the point of contention of all theologians and philosophers: what was before then, if it was meant to exist? in what defense would reason reply? in the very least, it would probably lead us to seek answers of more depth, more sophistry perhaps, than ones we usually settle for.
but a simple analogy may suffice: were life to be without purpose, then it would like having a bottle without a bottle cap; looking at whats inside cant quench your thirst, so what else is there except to open the bottle and find out whats inside?
9.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
So the school year has begun and many times one finds busy-ness the primary occupation, though also dotted with sizable spells of freeness, when the mind can roam and time seems to move a little slower.
I marvel at human relationships, at how one memory, one tiny recollection from months or years ago, can at any present moment, lead one to act. What lever should click in his or her mind, what nuance of apparent negligible consequence could push the button in the consciousness that takes one from thought to action? It is simply amazing.
Anyways, what's more intriguing is the train of reaction/action that might result. Hmm, but it does seem that as time passes, things seem to mean less. What was once held as precious yesterday, is but a glare in the rear view mirror now.
to what end or avail is that wave of goodbye if Im only alive for another day to give death a warm, open greeting with pain as my speech and loss my lone understanding. there's much to be had but even more to be lost, a moment can make the brick on a mountain or break the hardest safe without one calorie's cost. trying is for achieving, but where would that lead? isn't there just a closed road seeming open where bandages cant stop memories from bleeding, a closed road where liars and cheats abound to make money to fuel appetites and divorced families?
- abruptly ended, train of thought derailed by a runny cold -_-
So the school year has begun and many times one finds busy-ness the primary occupation, though also dotted with sizable spells of freeness, when the mind can roam and time seems to move a little slower.
I marvel at human relationships, at how one memory, one tiny recollection from months or years ago, can at any present moment, lead one to act. What lever should click in his or her mind, what nuance of apparent negligible consequence could push the button in the consciousness that takes one from thought to action? It is simply amazing.
Anyways, what's more intriguing is the train of reaction/action that might result. Hmm, but it does seem that as time passes, things seem to mean less. What was once held as precious yesterday, is but a glare in the rear view mirror now.
to what end or avail is that wave of goodbye if Im only alive for another day to give death a warm, open greeting with pain as my speech and loss my lone understanding. there's much to be had but even more to be lost, a moment can make the brick on a mountain or break the hardest safe without one calorie's cost. trying is for achieving, but where would that lead? isn't there just a closed road seeming open where bandages cant stop memories from bleeding, a closed road where liars and cheats abound to make money to fuel appetites and divorced families?
- abruptly ended, train of thought derailed by a runny cold -_-
8.28.2006
- in the name of Allah -
From earlier today:
Vigilantes in vests combing the woods of antiquity without rest; so many loggers in uniform change public opinion from service to servitude with only pricks of conscience as thorns. Habitats and habits slowly crumble as chaos opens its arms, embracing the bosom of struggle. Pain breeds defiance or indifference, the former seeking ladders while the latter crawl into apathy's decadence. Criticism is plenty though surety is few, words uttered as insults dangle as daggers in throats while smiles cover up what wrongs people do.
As for what aim or purpose, just about purely random muse. Gotta love free time on the first day of classes.
From earlier today:
Vigilantes in vests combing the woods of antiquity without rest; so many loggers in uniform change public opinion from service to servitude with only pricks of conscience as thorns. Habitats and habits slowly crumble as chaos opens its arms, embracing the bosom of struggle. Pain breeds defiance or indifference, the former seeking ladders while the latter crawl into apathy's decadence. Criticism is plenty though surety is few, words uttered as insults dangle as daggers in throats while smiles cover up what wrongs people do.
As for what aim or purpose, just about purely random muse. Gotta love free time on the first day of classes.
8.18.2006
- in the name of Allah -
"...it was reported that Abu Waaqid al-Laythi (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: “Whilst the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) was sitting in the mosque and there were some people with him, three people came in. Two of them came to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) and one went away. When they came up to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him), they greeted him with salaam. One of them found a space in the circle and sat down, and the other sat down behind him. The third one turned and went away. When the Messenger (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) had finished (his talk), he said: ‘Shall I tell you about these three people? One of them turned to Allaah so Allaah accepted him; the second felt shy so Allaah will feel shy (to punish him); and the third turned away so Allaah turned away from him.” (Narrated by Maalik in al-Muwatta’, 2/960; Ahmad, 5/219; al-Bukhaari, 1/24, 122; Muslim, 4/1713, no. 2176; al-Tirmidhi, 5/73, no. 2724; Abu Ya’laa, 3/33, no. 1445)"
- (from Jaysh's post on islamica)
now about that bold part, isn't that what everyone's seeking?
"...it was reported that Abu Waaqid al-Laythi (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: “Whilst the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) was sitting in the mosque and there were some people with him, three people came in. Two of them came to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) and one went away. When they came up to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him), they greeted him with salaam. One of them found a space in the circle and sat down, and the other sat down behind him. The third one turned and went away. When the Messenger (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) had finished (his talk), he said: ‘Shall I tell you about these three people? One of them turned to Allaah so Allaah accepted him; the second felt shy so Allaah will feel shy (to punish him); and the third turned away so Allaah turned away from him.” (Narrated by Maalik in al-Muwatta’, 2/960; Ahmad, 5/219; al-Bukhaari, 1/24, 122; Muslim, 4/1713, no. 2176; al-Tirmidhi, 5/73, no. 2724; Abu Ya’laa, 3/33, no. 1445)"
- (from Jaysh's post on islamica)
now about that bold part, isn't that what everyone's seeking?
8.16.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Why must nihilistic fatalism be such a defining characteristic in the human persona? It defeats all notion of logic and sense, abiding only some waves of emotion's tide. Not to mention all the great 'criminals' of the past who've done the unthinkable, both new and terrible things. Were these actions a precursor to their doom, or was it some last-minute conspiratorial move by fate? Every day, it seems, is a day one cannot escape from fate.
Yet we are challenged, to be greater than ourselves, greater than our weaknesses, greater than our archnemesis. Such is the state of life, of this life. If we cannot find peace here, will it be found anywhere? Perhaps, though certainty only comes with death.
I can explain nothing, give reason to no personal fallacy of mine. The clouds of being are often more dense than my most impenetrable fog, a fog quite usually self-created. The paradoxical nature of my still breathing, hold air in my lungs, is a wisdom on the other side of the lids of my eyes: every time I open them, I think I see but just as quickly they vanish.
Why must nihilistic fatalism be such a defining characteristic in the human persona? It defeats all notion of logic and sense, abiding only some waves of emotion's tide. Not to mention all the great 'criminals' of the past who've done the unthinkable, both new and terrible things. Were these actions a precursor to their doom, or was it some last-minute conspiratorial move by fate? Every day, it seems, is a day one cannot escape from fate.
Yet we are challenged, to be greater than ourselves, greater than our weaknesses, greater than our archnemesis. Such is the state of life, of this life. If we cannot find peace here, will it be found anywhere? Perhaps, though certainty only comes with death.
I can explain nothing, give reason to no personal fallacy of mine. The clouds of being are often more dense than my most impenetrable fog, a fog quite usually self-created. The paradoxical nature of my still breathing, hold air in my lungs, is a wisdom on the other side of the lids of my eyes: every time I open them, I think I see but just as quickly they vanish.
8.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
After watching the video: "Against Zionism: Jewish Perspectives", something occurred to me. Oppression, wherever it is, has no favorites, has no friends, has no allies. Oppression hates anything and everything that isn't the same, or doesn't agree with its theology. Whats ironic is that I saw a new perspective, one I didnt quite imagine possible; there are a significant minority of Jews who are against zionism, against occupation. And imagine, "Jews" persecuting Jews. Whod a thunk it? It brings me to realize the danger of generalizations, and the even greater danger of oppression in the battles that all of us, every single human being alive, must fight at his or her own level every single day. I doubt there is a silver bullet, but I think an aluminum bullet of truth may do well to penetrate the bowels of injustice, so long as the guns of words rain truth from the mouths of the righteous and brave. (try saying that 5 times fast o_o)
may Allah grant the truth victory, and give it the ability to mesh with, and accept others like it wherever it is found. Ameen
After watching the video: "Against Zionism: Jewish Perspectives", something occurred to me. Oppression, wherever it is, has no favorites, has no friends, has no allies. Oppression hates anything and everything that isn't the same, or doesn't agree with its theology. Whats ironic is that I saw a new perspective, one I didnt quite imagine possible; there are a significant minority of Jews who are against zionism, against occupation. And imagine, "Jews" persecuting Jews. Whod a thunk it? It brings me to realize the danger of generalizations, and the even greater danger of oppression in the battles that all of us, every single human being alive, must fight at his or her own level every single day. I doubt there is a silver bullet, but I think an aluminum bullet of truth may do well to penetrate the bowels of injustice, so long as the guns of words rain truth from the mouths of the righteous and brave. (try saying that 5 times fast o_o)
may Allah grant the truth victory, and give it the ability to mesh with, and accept others like it wherever it is found. Ameen
8.10.2006
8.09.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Inna ma'al yusri, yusra. (Indeed, with hardship there is ease)
I've found this to be true, alh.
Pieces of my past find their graves easily enough, though the doors of possibilty were once opened, I think finally now I've been able to keep them shut. I don't know what price we have to pay for daring to dream, for daring to think ourselves above the ones who fall through the seams, but I know I'd rather have my dreams die in the pits than have myself fall in it. A small fee, to be sure, that I keep the nafs marching along to the tune of a song mechanically intertwined but in higher purposes designed.
To this day, I don't know quite what I want. Sure, to be on my feet is a something unto itself. But deep down, what? Is there anything? It probably takes a long to figure out what it is that one is really seeking..hopefully not a lifetime *shrug*. Interestingly, it occurs to me that what I "want" may not even be in this plane of existence, in this phase of life. So, if that is the case, what does one do exactly if the sea around you is Dead and dried, with the last moisture to be found is in the stars and constellations? :O
Inna ma'al yusri, yusra. (Indeed, with hardship there is ease)
I've found this to be true, alh.
Pieces of my past find their graves easily enough, though the doors of possibilty were once opened, I think finally now I've been able to keep them shut. I don't know what price we have to pay for daring to dream, for daring to think ourselves above the ones who fall through the seams, but I know I'd rather have my dreams die in the pits than have myself fall in it. A small fee, to be sure, that I keep the nafs marching along to the tune of a song mechanically intertwined but in higher purposes designed.
To this day, I don't know quite what I want. Sure, to be on my feet is a something unto itself. But deep down, what? Is there anything? It probably takes a long to figure out what it is that one is really seeking..hopefully not a lifetime *shrug*. Interestingly, it occurs to me that what I "want" may not even be in this plane of existence, in this phase of life. So, if that is the case, what does one do exactly if the sea around you is Dead and dried, with the last moisture to be found is in the stars and constellations? :O