tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186466712024-03-14T10:36:37.313-06:00Rays of FaithLa Illah IllAllahUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger256125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-26547279547511291192013-02-22T23:35:00.000-07:002013-02-22T23:35:08.672-07:00Abandoned VesselI've decided to abandon writing/blogging for a while. Like most things in my life these days, I just don't enjoy it anymore. Maybe I'll come back once I have good to share with the world.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-53859942579982107132013-02-22T23:06:00.001-07:002013-02-22T23:06:24.348-07:00Just Cringe and Bare itWhat do I do when the only person I can really talk to wont talk to me. Can't talk to me. I try to replace them but others don't fulfil the need. I end up feeling more lonely than if I were just alone. I just want to hear their voice, have them say my name, and listen to me talk. Its a simple yet strange desire.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-21637373914717254722013-02-20T13:33:00.001-07:002013-02-20T13:33:25.278-07:00BlindnessTwo eyes of the lifeless<br />
Take, making those breathless<br />
Asleep though in wakefulness<br />
Well in to wanness<br />
A sickness of witnessUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-79027779956577348862013-02-20T13:26:00.000-07:002013-02-20T13:27:20.597-07:00SaddnessA dull aching knocking <br />
Retreat from it quaking<br />
A sound long foreboding<br />
Of madness its making Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-12431131376522913332013-02-20T01:07:00.000-07:002013-02-20T01:07:02.500-07:00My Allah Is The One <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eNfVJ7_Vqm4?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-42837571238358493062013-02-14T19:51:00.004-07:002013-02-14T19:51:47.271-07:00"I am sorry for my weakness"<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2K0dJ8UiKfs" width="560"></iframe><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-25519658614638841902013-02-14T19:47:00.002-07:002013-02-14T19:48:03.473-07:00Make Dua For Me<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Messenger of Allah said; “The supplication of a Muslim for his
brother in his absence will certainly be answered. Everytime he makes a
supplication for good for his brother, the angel appointed for this
particular task says: `Ameen! May it be for you, too’.” [Muslim].
</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">
</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-77778225322861078692013-02-11T14:39:00.001-07:002013-02-11T14:39:50.907-07:00I just did it!I just did what every girl thinks of doing at least once in her life. Chopping off all my hair. It feels liberating. I'm going to be rocking a bob for a while.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-54510488884369908502013-02-02T19:06:00.000-07:002013-02-07T22:34:31.394-07:00Charha de rang, soneya ve<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The peacock decorates his beloved with his
colours.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Vibrantly painting her with the ink of his
feathers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">He gives though he loses what cannot be
retrieved. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Stark white feathers are how saintly lovers
are reprieved. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Humbled of his riches he does not
think to grieve.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">His heart only dreads the many paths to his
bereave. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The peacock decorates his love with his
feathers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In mourner’s clothes he blissfully stalks after
his colours. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Selflessly pleased at the pleasure of his
lover.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">He gives as if it were not to another;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Rather from his person, plucked to
personify this other.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In giving, receiving the colours of his
lover. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-59372487174352784152013-01-30T10:47:00.002-07:002013-01-30T10:47:36.581-07:00Medicine Pick it up, pick it all up.<br />
And start again.<br />
You've got a second chance, <br />
You could go home.<br />
Escape it all.<br />
It's just irrelevant.<br />
<br />
It's just medicine.<br />
<br />
You could still be, <br />
What you want to, <br />
What you said you were<br />
When I met you.<br />
<br />
You've got a warm heart, <br />
You've got a beautiful brain, <br />
But it's disintegrating<br />
From all the medicine.<br />
Medicine.<br />
<br />
You could still be, <br />
What you want to be, <br />
What you said you were, <br />
When you met me.<br />
<br />
-Daughter Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-38812821056789561532013-01-26T00:18:00.000-07:002013-01-26T00:18:05.182-07:00How to fall back in love. Today I dreamt that I had left this country of mine for a new country. I didn't think to deeply about what was in this new country because I couldn't decide what characteristics I actually wanted this new country to have. Anything thing I thought up made me hate it...such is the case when you hate everything. So I made my new country a desert, with an oasis . Nothing else but fine grains of sand, a couple of trees, and clear water. That's all I could decide on, an empty, rock-less desert.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mitchellkrog.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Sossusvlei-Desert-Oasis-Sunset-Panoramic-Photo-NAX0928SV-Mitchell-Krog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://mitchellkrog.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Sossusvlei-Desert-Oasis-Sunset-Panoramic-Photo-NAX0928SV-Mitchell-Krog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-78276969279396762082013-01-21T08:13:00.001-07:002013-01-21T08:13:14.802-07:00A Resolution If its help you offer, I require more than that.<br />
I need a nuclear arsenal, an army, and a revolutionary manifesto.<br />
I require unprecedented rapid global social and economic restructuring.<br />
I need the wealth of the worlds top 10% and the influence that comes with.<br />
I need chemical and electrical rewiring of my brain and selective amnesia.<br />
I will need perfect health and incredible physical strength. <br />
I will require the favour, intervention, mercy, and pardon of the Lord of worlds.<br />
I need the capital to ransom myself from the fire and punishment of the grave.<br />
I will need a light and guide to navigate the qiyama.<br />
I need a key to the entrance of jennah, and access to prime real estate. <br />
And who but Allah swt could help me all with that. <br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-37221699143101281682013-01-07T16:39:00.000-07:002013-01-07T16:43:36.927-07:00Purity of Hate <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">After everything the most resounding result is hatred. It has taken over my days and robbed me of my nights. I hate. I hate just about everything, everyone, and everywhere. Everything from the disgusting little atoms and molecules to the empty meaningless space around us. I hate that stupid little ugly quivering dog next door and the fugly old lady that refuses to control it. I hate snow, cold, and the sunless sky. I hate money. I hate poverty. I hate my house, I want to set it on fire. I hate that voice I hear everyday that complains and screams and offers no pleasantries. I hate my friends. I hate how lazy and naive I've been my whole life. I hate skin, hair, and saliva. I hate people from my community...and really all immigrants...and non immigrants. I hate white people, black people, brown people, and Asians. I hate people, and their stupid non nonsensical cultures and their ugly sounding jabbering in their strange languages. I hate atheists and idol worshipers. I hate the French...and the Brits...the Dutch...South Africans; screw those guys. I hate dirt, filth, and residue. I hate animals...plants...anything living or dead. So nasty. I could run away but there is no where to go. The problem is clearly me. I don't even see the point of living anymore. I hate life. I would like to be rid of it. I feel like life is some type of infectious disease that has trapped me in this horrific torture shell of a body. And death would be like cracking that shell open...and finally being free of it. A release and hopefully, relief. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-30134675975834689572013-01-04T21:55:00.001-07:002013-01-04T21:55:55.169-07:00I don't like to write I've written myself many a letter<br />
Told me many a tale<br />
To comfort and lull many emotions<br />
That came about my way<br />
But these letters no longer sooth me<br />
The use of words no longer suit me<br />
So to the world of language and poetry<br />
Goodbye and without me farewell Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-42751268957684060282012-12-31T03:13:00.001-07:002012-12-31T03:26:11.976-07:00Message to an old friend:<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Although we don't speak or call or write, I miss you. I miss you something awful. I wish we were in the same place at the same time. I would kiss you and hug you and never let you leave me behind...again. I miss confiding in you, our easy long talks, our teasing and laughing, the intense discussions, and even our arguments. I want to talk to you again even just to argue, because I miss you. I don't know why you often drift away but without you my life is like a puzzle missing pieces. Every so often I convince myself that I don't need you. That if our friendship was that great then we wouldn't be estranged for so long. Even if that's true my heart can't be tough on you, she always softens and remembers the anger is only because I miss you. So where ever you are and what ever you are doing, know that I love you and wish you well and ask that Allah protect you. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ma'Salaama </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-18223529173274512062012-12-11T10:20:00.001-07:002012-12-11T10:20:12.993-07:00Lord of the rings poem<dl><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All that is gold does not glitter,</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Not all those who wander are lost;</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The old that is strong does not wither,</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Deep roots are not reached by the frost.</span></span></dd></dl>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
</span></span>
<dl><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">From the ashes a fire shall be woken,</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A light from the shadows shall spring;</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Renewed shall be blade that was broken,</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The crownless again shall be king.</span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span></dd><dd><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- </span>John Ronald Reuel Tolkien</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-1"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_that_is_gold_does_not_glitter#cite_note-1"><span></span></a></sup></dd></dl>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-50694878697439233722012-12-03T22:35:00.001-07:002012-12-03T22:35:09.245-07:00Mamihlapinatapaiis also a real word. It is as hard to say as it is to define. Vaguely, it means "a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other will offer something that they both desire but are unwilling to suggest or offer themselves." yup, lol. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-22703541238372656802012-11-30T20:52:00.001-07:002012-11-30T20:52:40.925-07:00Weekly Jumuah Special: How Remembering Death Can Make You More ProductiveRead this article, its beneficial inshaAllah. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://understandquran.com/weekly-jumuah-special-how-remembering-death-will-make-you-productive.html">Weekly Jumuah Special: How Remembering Death Can Make You More Productive</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-16296960171362019142012-11-30T09:50:00.001-07:002012-11-30T09:55:06.474-07:00Learning to trust and identify the trust worthy <span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">وَتَوَكَّلْ عَلَى اللَّهِ ۚ وَكَفَىٰ بِاللَّهِ وَكِيلًا ٣٣:٣</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: large;">"And put thy trust in Allah, and enough is Allah as a disposer of affairs." Quran [<span style="font-size: large;">33<span style="font-size: large;">:3</span></span>]</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/b1TThFJy9i0?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-28467458130007179592012-11-28T20:20:00.000-07:002012-11-28T20:20:54.941-07:00What is it that I do not want people to know about me?I don't want them to know...<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>That I am insecure about my looks.</li>
<li>That I believe that I have a difficult and boring personality.</li>
<li>That I have failed at all of my attempts in my professional goals and I feel like a loser.</li>
<li>That I pretend to have everything figured out but I have no idea what I am doing.</li>
<li>That it doesn't take much for me to compromise my standards because deep down I believe I don't deserve them. </li>
<li>That I am resentful that I don't have the benefits of white privilege in my personal and professional life. </li>
<li>That I am guilty of all the seven deadly sins except for envy. </li>
<li>That I don't/can't trust anyone and before that, my father was the only person I've ever trusted.</li>
<li>That for the most part I strategically say and do things so that people can't hold my words against me later. In the few instances I do speak freely I berate myself and feel paranoid about it later. </li>
<li>That I care a lot about what people think of me. </li>
<li>That I think I am a hypocrite. </li>
<li>That I don't live with integrity. </li>
<li>That I have disrespected myself and I am deeply ashamed of this. </li>
<li>That I've been depressed for the last 3-4 years but most of that time I didn't realize it. </li>
<li>That I think I have a black heart and a dark soul. </li>
<li>That the only light I ever saw came from when I accepted Islam. </li>
<li>That I am too caught up in dunya and I struggle a lot with this. </li>
<li>That I make bad decisions. </li>
<li>That I am afraid of remaining unmarried and possibly never having children. </li>
<li>That I believe that some people are just lonely wandering nomads and I am one of them. I've never had the same group of friends for more than two year. I've never really had a best friend. </li>
<li>That I don't think I am intelligent. </li>
<li>That I realized I don't like myself the way I am today and even if I ran away most of my problems would follow because they are my fault. </li>
<li>That I used to think people underestimated me but now I'm starting to believe that I was arrogant. </li>
<li>That I am secretive but I don't want to be anymore because it's stressful with little benefit to me. </li>
</ul>
<br />
...So that list is longer than I expected. The more I wrote the more I remembered. It feels really cathartic to get it out of my head and written down where I can look at it almost objectively. I can fix all of this, one <b>good</b> decision at a time inshaAllah. <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-22897883626584710622012-11-25T20:34:00.000-07:002012-11-25T21:07:00.233-07:00Deer Jerky <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So I was walking home tonight and got into a serious altercation with two very aggressive deer; one of them was huge and had large antlers. I tried to stand my ground but then decided I didn't want to lose teeth over this. I had to walk BLOCKS to get pass these bullies just so I could go home.</span> <span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">As soon as I saw them I ran like a little girl.</span></span></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What did I take away from this night...I am now pro-hunting. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-72011670506686413282012-11-19T09:21:00.000-07:002012-11-19T09:21:00.143-07:00Our sister Amal's poem<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YJL9Pz7s1Ug?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
...cute sweater. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-90405550589300477512012-11-11T00:01:00.000-07:002012-11-11T09:03:04.566-07:00My Mother<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">...Will always see me as a child. The child she made, carried, birthed, suckled, changed, and soothed. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She was the best of mothers until I reached an age where mothering included disciplining. It was a long time before I understood that this is because of how she was disciplined and because she had no mother. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Although at times I am hit with waves of compassion, most of my time is spent in bitter resentment; Revisiting the album of unpleasant memories and how they have shaped the adult woman I've become. Once or twice I've read articles on the ways my up bringing has rewired my brain and affected my character. I soak up excuses for all my vices and I pass her the blame. My heart is twisted and I find myself slow<span style="font-size: small;">ly</span> becoming worse than what twisted me. I've taken on the story as my identity and write the rest of the plot accordingly.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But now I am asking myself, who I would have become if I had not experienced the negative aspects of my upbringing. I probably would have been balanced in most aspects of my life. I would be happy without the negative context written around my every day. So why don't I drop the old sob story and rewrite the context. Things are<span style="font-size: small;"> pretty good for</span> me right now. And for things that are not going so well, they are all my fault, not hers anymore.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So this is my <span style="font-size: small;">apolog<span style="font-size: small;">y</span></span> to my mother, for blaming her for everything I couldn't do. And even though she would never say it, I know she is sorry for not being the mother I needed her to be. I know this because that is the essence of all mothers. </span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-30746901579307533612012-11-10T21:37:00.000-07:002012-11-10T21:41:53.177-07:00Obfuscate,is a real word. It looks like a typo, so its fitting it means something unintelligible. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18646671.post-23877029014708759902012-11-10T21:24:00.001-07:002012-11-10T21:29:44.303-07:00I really think like this, this is why I can't ask people for favours I want what I want how I want it. <br />
Other wise its not what I want,<br />
Its how you want it.<br />
So if you give what I want how you want it,<br />
Then tell me to want what you want how you want it.<br />
I don't want what I want anymore,<br />
I'll only think if how you want what I don't want.<br />
And how you want not to want what I want<br />
Or not to want to give me what I want<br />
... In the way that I want it. <br />
And if finally you give me what I want how I want it.<br />
I will only see that you didn't want it.<br />
And that you made what I want no longer wanted.<br />
And I would have lost the joy of being granted what is wanted,<br />
how I want it.<br />
So just give me what I want how I want it<br />
or don't give it at all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0