- in the name of Allah -


Haven't written in awhile, but this is recently inspired.


"let's Fly"

dedications to memories buried in imaginary cemeteries, the world is my grave until you beat through these arteries. i came back to pieces of pyramids almost forgotten, a past of almost perfection, where things stood right even though the rest of the world seemed to be crumbling. even though it's meaningless i'll say it anyways: i should've been there, should've manned up, should've found myself sooner, but the diamond i had in my hands slipped out of my grasp and before even a second had passed there it was- falling into an ocean where i could never follow, a path only destined to haunt and leave hollow. unless i can fill it up with memories and not do injustice to the future coming to me, it just might be circles that i travel in again, circles without an end or beginning but always promising to leave one spinning. i don't know why i haven't felt like reaching for the moon in so long, but lately i've wanted to fly with thoughts of you on my mind: the wind in my face, blowing through my soul, a filter for the folly that left the keys to my past without their hole. swooping wings and thunderous hearts, the rush begins when the seas part, giving hope its middle lane between the loony and sane. i can only think of Jannah, the only plausible possibility, where you finally morph from a dream into an effervescent reality. still, i'm reminded so succinctly how ironic it is i should depend on this need for hope, after i'd once casted off faith in its purpose and replaced it with the need to cope. i'm approaching a loss for words; the door is closing, but with whispers yet unspoken, whispers yet unheard..

- in the name of Allah -


Random memories tend to surface sometimes, and it may be better to let them out than keep them caged inside. One particular one came to mind just now, one day back in the Fall of '05, when the days seemed brighter and the nights more vivid. There was a voicemail message left on my cell, a voicemail of someone in a singing voice reciting the alphabet song, "A, B, C, D, E, F, G.."; of course ending with 'won't you sing with me?' Ahh, what things we remember. Time moves so fast, people come and go almost without notice, and even when they are noticed, they never seem to stay as long as we'd like. The big question remains, where the end of it all is. Just not in that sense. I know what the end will be, but what will be my end? It's a question I cannot answer, but only hope I will do/have done enough good to earn Allah's rehmah.


I shall note some down some recent observations I have made, and some quotes I can recall. I believe it was Imam Ghazali who said that one desire only leads to another desire. This I can vouch for as truth. By example, after satiating one's appetite, besides the will of the individual, what can stop him from eating more, not because he is hungry, but simply because he can and the action brings him joy? It is this line of reasoning that brings us back to the one and only place the human being can find peace in, consistently, and that is with Allah, in Islam. It should be simple then, if I have the answer to the question of 'where to find peace', that I would have it whenever it would be needed. But it is not so. The soul is a fickle character in a play made of vanity. People seek fulfillment from the approval of others, and such a thing based on the whims of mortals is destined to be lacking and void. But yet, I am part of these very same people, these people who cannot, even as much as they try, live as isolated islands in the oceans of humanity. There is something I seek, something I have not yet found, that eludes me so well and so intrinsically, it offsets the balance with every other aspect of life I have come to know. It may be that I seek some one, or my self, but whatever the truth, only time can reveal just what it is. Thus, these times are encapsulated in forgetfulness, as simply fillers between a time that once was, where innocence and idealism held sway, and a time yet to come, where truth and justice reveal the reckoning humanity loved to delude itself about. But, the question insists, can this be only that, just filler? What transcendent beauty is there still undiscovered that would give it this time more meaning, more substance? Where are objective and purpose found together, fused within a practical reality that does not need to call upon a new age, as it already has the best of yesterday and today?

Some people are relegated to living questions while others find answers. I pray Allah makes so that I meet one of these before my time is up.

- in the name of Allah -


In all of the events in life one gives meaning to, another was added to the list. Amongst the irony of ironies, it had to do with April 19th of a year ago, an irony I'll refrain from expounding upon but mention nonetheless. I went back to Al Rahmah for Jumu'ah. This, after an absence going on 10 months. I found that many of those I knew no longer attended as frequently, though the few that remain, seem to matter more. In the cosmically small but personally gargantuan steps we take in life, this has to be counted among them.

I was reminded, going over a piece of the past, just how important understanding is. Being prone to misunderstand because of a tendency to think too fast and judge too easily, I'd lost touch with quite a few I care(d) about. Interestingly, it was the memory precisely of such a person that finally took the nail out of the coffin and allowed everything to be re-examined in a different light. Alhamdulillah for that. In other less important news, Heroes finally returns this coming Monday, and my semester has only a month left. Woot!

- in the name of Allah -


So many real problems, so few real solutions, images ideal crash down from a plane of fiery dilution. When I was younger I aimed for the stars, but then I fell in the ocean, with the pitfalls of fate, became grappled to indecision by the mix of emotions. Each day it seems, optimism and pessimistic fatalism battle the ground inside, neuron against neuron, the soul an only victim that within resides. Reaching for the past, I'm held back by the present, distance, it seemed to me, was a blessed haven in disguise from the wretches of souls unrepentant. Alas, mistakes made over and over, assumptions withered to dust, the sun shines and all the theories float with fairies to a place that leaves me weary. Do I search the graves for answers, or journey forth for new land, to build a palace in sand? It isn't the people I disliked, it was the possibility that as far as that fateful idealist's collapse in '05 had left me bare, there was still the skin still yet able to be taken, from all the things to be lost, the last barrier before the abyss became a mirror falling I never cared to watch shatter and thus send all my trust in life amiss. I've prevented those that cared from reaching back, when that for which I cared I could myself no longer reach, a bridge crumbled in fate's iron grip, the outcome of which still either lingering to be rise or slip. Time became irrelevant, as the soul's anguish transcended to a plane of unequaled ambivalence. Still, through it all, I yearn for a place to put my head, a place of rest, a place not of nightmares but dreams instead.

- in the name of Allah -



Opening the door while closing the window, spectators remain safe while wanderers suffer incognito. where unknown is the end to this beginning, this slow surfacing of a dawn dampened at first sight by doubter's inhibition. transcendence the cure to an ache underneath, physicality the blur between what's real and what eyes only see. paths can become prophecies, rudimentary hopes locked within cynical ambitions without possibility of release. first conclusions rarely fly, made of preformed wax designed to reach but so high. acceptance of happenings and happenstance, life of this earth a tango but not all find they can dance. purpose oblivious while internal turmoil reigns king of a stage deemed insufficiently lit and thus useless. vagaries of depth conceal true meaning in breadth, scope a function of fingers and letters wired impulses from the mood setter. yet living peace is found, no longer a demon disguised in the underground. to seek serenity, the soul is the patient and the mind a medic, trying to release from within what's already been invested. easy questions don't exist and many hard ones have no reply, only aides to truth can recover it from lies.

- in the name of Allah -


Here yet again, for reasons not entirely of my own devising. Someone I used to know raised an issue I found quite surprising, and eventually, I have decided to give in to their request. What it is, doesn't really matter, except that if we are careful of how we say what we want to say, then the path to jannah becomes quite a bit easier. On that note, I find an incongruity, or so it may appear, between what is deemed appropriate in relations between two people of the opposite sex. Of course, Islam is our guiding stick and there are mandates implicit and explicit to the effect that men and women without blood relation to one another should limit contact only to what is beneficial. Of the two notions needing clarity, one is "contact" and two is "beneficial". People who prefer more literal and strict interpretation, favor negation of any and all outlets, no matter the recourse, as far as is humanly possible. An outlet here is defined as electronic communication, without the notion or the potentially potential of physical interaction. Those who favor strict and literal viewpoints, assert that any and all roads to the haraam are to be closed, and since this electronic communication constitutes one of those roads, it should be refrained from. Those who would prefer more interpretive and metaphorical interpretation agree with others in that were a physical dimension involved, all of the previous assertions regarding restriction of contact should be held in place, but in the case of electronic communication, there is a vague barrier that prevents one from definitively assigning a value of good or bad. The assumption they hold is that understanding and clarity can pass through the medium of electronic communication, without having strings of possiblity attach in ways that may lead to haraam. My own personal opinion is that what is "beneficial" can be found in this gray area. It is true that the human soul continuously, often undetectably, reaches out in all the ways of its own passion and predilection, but how does one come to terms with the self, with the nafs? The only ones who can truly understand and control these impulses are those who are one hundred percent honest with themselves and with Allah. There is no variability when it comes to intention in this issue. People with even possible ulterior motives will not find what they are looking for. So what is the solution if two people find themselves on the opposite sides of the fence on this issue? How can it be resolved?

Looking to the sunnah, the easiest and probably most preferential choice would be to seek middle ground, for it is rare that precisely what one wants can be found only on one end of the spectrum. In this spectrum, there is type and form of communicating. Or so I would think. I hesitate to write my understanding of the middle ground, as I may tend to be biased towards my end. Could it be there is no middle ground here, that the solution can only be either a whole 'yes' or whole 'no'?

To this answer I am not knowledgable enough. However, not having its answer is not a cause for me to not exist, so I will continue to exist, perhaps persisting in it as well. My return apology goes out to the one who sought redress for wrongs inflicted. In any case, communication is always a two-way street.

- in the name of Allah -


so a few weeks have gone by since my last post. what's changed? what new epiphanies have been brought into the world of existence from the world of the unseen? essentially none. the world is still a trying place to live in, there's still a glaring void present in a place most people could never fill, and maybe most precarious- there are still reasons missing and reasons needing to be found. another realization has dawned, sort of, that whatever was known beforehand has got to be something let go. knowing and re-friending the past isn't an option, as the differences between now and then imagine themselves to be enormous and unfillable. of course the truth is less pressing, maybe more pressing from some perspective, but largely, life almost never is as bad as it's claimed or felt to be. so where does the present tread forward? with whom and how? familial bonds take the fore front, as their madness is slightly more tolerable and acceptable than the madness of those who would appear to care less. there are no grudges, except a few that are probably humanly impossible to let go of. nonetheless, it all continues onward to a pre-appointed time, reminding everyone that expectations might only be for the foolhardy.

- in the name of Allah -



I looked down at the depths and they weren't as dark, salvation was eminent, just not from the start. The moon shone a bit of saranity, cloaked in advice that couldn't have been firmer grounded in reality. It could be that the time approaches where I attain that cliff of self actualizing, a ever broader and brighter white haze across a setting horizon. What's left to do but say goodbye to the me of yesteryear, for though I am what he became, tomorrow I will have left him there. But who to take along and who else to leave behind?, tenuous questions as they answer only to time.

- in the name of Allah -



rising, still yet to have risen, the world around crumbles to a point predetermined. with my role still a cloud hovering between hurricane and summer breeze, i need a plane to fly over the chaos of impossibilities. questions are easy to pose but answers harder to find, work is the solution but i can't seem to shutdown the mind. people wonder at what things are worth it, what goals truly lofty and fitting to give form to purpose. when the world shrinks to a hundred square feet, there no problems looking for meaning underneath. but when you lift the curtains and pull back the shades, right along with allies and enemies creeps doubt and enmity. its a calculated risk some never consider, except those who've lost reason to madness and stretch out bridges forever. fleeting scenes changing constantly, meaning is a dying breed replaced by polite but distant sociality. in these darkened times, there are some beacons that beckon, some possibilities that whisper solace and recovery, at points beyond my personal reckoning.

- in the name of Allah -



divergence


resisting insistence, i stand on the wall in between heaven and perdition, seeing below on both sides the minions screaming fury and repentance. my path was chosen yesterday but its unclear now, the choices were evident once but less clarity abounds. surely like so many around and before me, i want the gardens of bliss with everlasting peace, a perfect existence unfettered by where notions of humanity reach. its the conundrum of no guarantees, that nothing i say or do will get me to a place underneath palm trees, a place of vigilant sunshine, with no want for skies or oceans, just the truth released from within every fortunate human being. it strikes me as particularly sad, that things i once took for granted now are the very things i don't have. its the people and the ways we used to be able to talk, how they've changed and now it seems i'm stuck in a warp. i see others reaching for the same clouds i once knew, but bitter disillusion and lack of resolve has me re-thinking the whole plot to this story through and through. i recall a short series of gripes, procedural inequities formed presumably to establish why it can't be utopian in design. there's essence of rebellion insidious in this expression, but i'll be damned already if the worlds not hellishly driven. still, i'm not fool enough to deny or turn my back on the power that Is, but simply using my ability of sight i decry the things i've felt, of how it all shouldn't be what it is. the question in effect, for my self, becomes, is the redemptive quality of then able to compensate for the injustice of now? ah who cares, the chips and peaces will fall and shatter where they will, just my path became a little cloudier still.

- in the name of Allah -



so it appears my one day experiment with facebook has ended, perhaps prematurely. it turns out, according to some external circumstances evidently unforeseen, that it is more of a hassle and source of bullshit than can be considered worthwhile. it should be noted that my purpose in even bothering with facebook was but exploratory, and having received no reply to my first step, in conjunction with the aforementioned external circumstances, made the whole scenario one for which i become entirely unfit to bother with.

after this brief time, one re-acknowledges terms such as destiny, fate, preordainment, and patience- most concepts which human beings, at their core, detest simply because they are that over which we have no control (in theory). one wonders if the notion of readiness becomes at all applicable in these pseudo-circumstances, if these notions should become prevalent above or beyond inborn states of being. i imagine only another who can understand what i write, but again it occurs to me that what one imagines is, in fact, originating from within the imagination, and therefore, it does not exist, at least in the idea's inception. of course the question of persisting in this imagining is a fruitful or worthwhile objective, to consistently relay to the world outside those characteristics sought in another, for the distant or close purpose. in short, should one keep cursing the wind because it does not carry the echoes far enough, perhaps to a place where the one desired might reside. alas, the wind is without fault. my lungs fail me, yet they may grow still, alveoli filling with air to bring about a fulfillment existing in the mind.

- in the name of Allah -


As fate would have it, there's no way I could have gotten through the season without catching one cold at least once before it all went away. And now that this cold is finally here, there is previously absent but now present need to explicate here some of the events occurring in the past few days. The most notable, as one might suspect, was a dream. It was one of those dreams that left you feeling hopeful, full wonder, and through the whole commotion bit of it, wholly aware of the piece about taking things with a grain of salt. Nonetheless, the kind of sweetness this dream offered was fairly unparalleled, least by anything I've known up until this moment. Now, on to the dream. Among the most prevalent bits, I was speaking to someone on the phone for an entire night, this someone being one with whom I've spoken before, but always on a level mutually-agreed upon as simple and austere friendship. This dream however, carried in it an idea that maybe, howsoever possible, this friendship might, one day, develop to something more substantial and ultimately, something more fulfilling. I am well acquainted with these kinds of things, having been a former idealist in a past life many times over. You might say the fool never wearies of playing his part when the fiddler comes fiddling with his tunes. In practice, however, I should hope this fool has learned a thing or two about broaching such boundaries only within the proper mode of time. So, the temporal gust of happiness is brushed to the side and life should march onward. Still, the subconscious and subliminal importance of acknowledging and accepting the role dreams, both held and envisioned, play in life can only lead to fulfillment, as long as one knows just how to take the pill of patience with a glass of water half full.

- in the name of Allah -


Been awhile since my last post, kind of wondering what I still plan on doing here. Yet another someone I knew has been pushed away, this time because of the weakness inherent in my own self. I had a dream I called an old friend and he simply ignored me and refused to bother reconnecting, which brings me to my next point- are relationships left for dead ever worth resurrecting? We used to know many good times, over the past decade, but it seems like time and its ever penetrating ability to make barriers has struck once again. People grow up together, then end up growing apart simply because life and they themselves are so different. Among my fears is that of being considered the same as I once was, something that leads me to avoid and despise places I used to frequent so often. I even tend to dislike meeting people from my past, persisting in the notion that their ideas of me do not allow for growth, that the image of myself in their minds is as static as wind in space. Were this true, I could easily justify my isolationist tendencies, but I cannot know what the case really is without subjecting myself to the very judgmental and over-rational behavior that I exhibit myself on occasion. No doubt it is a self defense mechanism, intended internally to protect and keep protected, but that so-called shelter leaves much to be desired. Human beings will always be social creatures, though howsoever preferential in what particular social setting they actually desire. The one I long for, the one so evident in the social institution of marriage, is delayed to me, as what it requires is what I as yet do not have. So time, one might think, is the essential conclusion to this predicament. It is, but the human soul does not live within time, the human soul is constantly reaching and wanting and wishing in places where time does not bind it, gardens of carefree bliss that do not depend on drugs, or quicks of social construction, but simply the overwhelming presence of what is good and the true food of the soul: the One.

- 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

- 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.

- 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.

- 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...

- 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)

- 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?

- 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.

- 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.

- 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)

- 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.

- 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.

- 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.