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Oct 13, 2012

Contradiction

I feel obliged ,
To wear a curve on my lips
Waning up towards my eyes.
May the god of the heavens shield my tears
With a transparent cloth of skin.
And may the angels grace the nape of my neck with sweet kisses of earthly things.

I don't wish to deal with ultimatums for I'd hate to take from a mere mortal, his last breath.

This isn't fair , this dress isn't blue and the sky is no longer red.
My eyes bleed , turquoise rivers of ink .
This paper is stained and so is your image in my mind. A reflection of a ghost, the only place where your reflection can escape you. The only place that can reflect the nothingness inside of you, the void in your heart and the pointlessness of your words.

Lines have been strewn in Gold on silver sheets of heaven,
Lethargic waters wash whatever left of shame I had. This is the peak of a story and the downfall of a king.

This tombstone is grey .. And the words engraved are small.. Like the life I lived ,they are indeed.

This vacuum is my air , heavy and black.

This darkness is my guide, light and sunshine .

This .. This is the end of me and the epitaph of another.

Sep 4, 2012

Hero and heroine

Let’s kick this off with the reason behind the cause.
can you find any? Because I seem to miserably fail at the mention of the idea of thinking about it.
my life seems more and more disconnected and... my breath like gravel , my breath like mud.. stuck in its own dilemma unable to pick a side.. to invade my cells or allow itself to be exhaled.

It hurts. The one significant thing about the human body is its ability to hurt physically, hurt mentally and furthermore…

My limbs feel quite numb and I don’t yet understand is this the climax? Is this when I as a heroine, when I as a hero have to endure it all? Pretending in a story line -that was written by someone that I’m not familiar with- that I don’t know that everything here onwards will be fine? All problems will be resolved?

Is this when I look up at the sky and with false interpretation of what my character is supposed to be , pray with false tears, pray with suffocated voice of a child who’s been throwing a tantrum for awhile ..

Do I even realize the depth of this character? Is it right? Is it just? That I, a mere protagonist in a story that isn’t mine alter people’s perspective on the story ? is it allowed? To stand on my own and act upon impulse ..

Do I not trust the one who created me to further acknowledge my existence and emphasize on the need of a ‘ME’ in this story? Why am I doing this then? Why am questioning her? Her abilities to write and write and write…

But what if… what if …

Pause.

I’ve been lied to by father.. cheated on and cheated with.. backstabbed.. mugged and raped .. survived a hurricane.. I’ve been attacked by ghost dragons and followed into the deep woods by talking snow, consistently been the target of an American airstrike on Hiroshima, I’ve been titled ‘death’ and called life , I’ve been innocent and insecure, malicious and mean, I’m the terrorist and the priest , the son of Adam and the sin of eve, and I of all the people.. is that true? The people? Am I a human being? Am I alive? Do I breathe whisky and shoot out flames? do I hear ghosts dining or do I join in?

Am I not a character? Am I not a character? Exhale.



I bow my head in defeat, move my hips to the rhythm of every grain of sand colliding with the black of my shoes.. I tie my hair into a ponytail. Black, soft, high and long hair, like a horse’s tail it bounces lethargically as I walk.. my eyes , the typical eyes of a child exuding innocence and dreams of a better tomorrow .. my shoulders slumped down with the world’s mountains heaved on top, the humorous scene one would see if looking onto my retreating back.. my belly large and hungry , if to signify anything it would be my bad choices in life.. my red dress hugging the curves of my body to reach mid thigh if any man would care to look he’d be another victim of mine.. my arm long and hairy , I remember using it to pull that gun out and ..and… Pause.

I am the only right thing , the safe haven to war refugees running away from their inevitable end. I am the alluring smell on a woman’s skin , I am the end of you and the start of another. I am the beauty and in someone else’s lines.. I am the beast.

But what if.. what if this is the end of me? This wide ocean that I’m staring at with my blue eyes.. no, brown eyes! Will this ocean be the end of me? Will I be hit by a passing meteorite? Or am I going to tie a boulder to my waist with a rope and throw myself in? it’s very difficult when you don’t know your end. It takes courage to have faith. One step forward, one step back , or just standing still where you are could be the end of you.

Jun 28, 2012

Kings

How do we get involved? How can we ever stop this? This is not a fight against a religion .. This is a Fight against humanity and civilization, against principle!

How can people kill people? This question never failed to amuse me, pondering over it whenever I drift off into silence .. I guess humans are very vulnerable to words, very weak against an army of orators. The people's power has become so little and almost non existent in defying that of words, to the extent that even a silly man's speech can lure them into witchcraft and crime. Politicians no longer need to put an effort in picking the right words nor make them sound reasonable. whatever they say that the people can fathom is holy.. We live in a world where those who think, die and those who nod their heads and throw away their principles become : Kings!

Feb 14, 2012

Miss you

Miss you

Now all I have to hold is a gravestone ,
And the earth that I once owned is dissolving into flames,
The wind tears my words into silence,
For my maternal two are hereafter in heaven’s Arms
May your souls forever surrender to god’s care ;the sweetest of words.

Write and write and write


With the ink longing to touch paper , and and my thoughts still haven’t struck ground. I can only stay stranded in that bleak region of my mind ,where words flow with least in common and ambiguity screams out its presence .
Fog seems to take over And shadows of what used to be lurk around Trying to force me into doing an action which,I, for so long wished to do .
“carry the pen ,carry the paper , put down the pen to the sheet of utter white and write and write and write”. Till the foggy vision starts to clear , I write and write and write .

Rants of the tears ...

Rants of the tears …

Hate to see you cry , but not words nor comforting smiles can eradicate your fear … so I pray the holder of the sky to give you strength through your good times and bad .

Words that are closer to rants ...

Words

I just understood why “Mr.bean” was so successful . You see in this show there were no words spoken , no subtitles needed and no explanations of the different accents … it was pure and simple with no add ups , with no meaningless words that do nothing but confuse nations ! It always gave you the freedom to imagine conversations and satisfy your need of what you would wish to watch … my advice? Mute your TV and just watch! You’ll , then be able to find out what your limitations are , where you can utmostly imply your imagination and in which areas you will use your general experience about the topic . Words are quite annoying if they’re not said at the right time ,on the right day and by the right person … Thats why we often get too emotional while watching a movie or listening to a song . Words forces some emotions to surface , a person who’s never fallen in love or entered any sort of relationship will cry while listening to a song about a couple breaking up ! Why? Because words trigger certain feelings you didn’t know you had , words can make you hate and grudge and envy and love and laugh and cry . They are powerful creations , words that is , and people over the ages have forever thought that ideas could not be conveyed without them .
they trigger some kind of a disturbance within the soul …
Keep it simple ! Keep it pure ! Let’s imagine a plot and build up on it from the first episode ! And for once in our lives , let’s not cheat … let the words disappear and focus on the actions !

Jan 27, 2012

Happy Birthday to my dearest Sis



In just a few minutes , a dear person who's close to me will have one more year added into their account ... They'll grow one more year of beauty, intelligence and charm.

One more year of a broken heart seeking refuge and fighting with life's cruelest of times and hearts.

One more year of disappointments and promises that don't come true .

One more year of a fragile heart going against the world and fighting to the hardcore of the truth .

But that my dear , would be nothing but a bad dream , this year I hope .

For I deeply wish from the pits of my soul ,this year be a good year to you ,
One which carries along with it love for you
One which unfolds yet another beautiful part of your life
One to offer you the best of times
One to draw endless smiles on your beautiful , innocent face
And one to tell you jokes and tickle your laugh to a peak .

One to show you the best of both worlds and give you just enough of sadness to help you recognize what happiness means .
One to put you in tough situations , enough for you to fight your fears.
And one to take enough of what you have to help you Cherish what you have near .

May all your dreams , plans and ambitions come true ... May god blesses you every year , with a bright more promising future and a smiling hope smirking at you from a distance , teasing you to grow near.

Happy birthday fedaa ,Happy birthday to the lovely sister who stood by my side through it all , the tough and the "LOL" .