Crying in words

Why cant I stop this overwhelming feeling of heartbreak and rigidity?  My emotions have become immobile- unable to shift and change. Instead, it’s off the charts in angst and frozen in the tundra of a once blooming spring.  Dreams and whimsy, all flushed into a sinkhole of reality. A blackhole of burden, pressure, and a repeating pattern of hopes time-warped into non-existence. 

 

This is why I hate being tickled with the happy ideas of life’s average milestones. Because average is exactly what I’m not. Average is aristocracy among all those around me dwelling in posh politics and wealth. I’m living in my own world, within the world of my immediate community, within the world of my city, within a grim world of war, poverty, and distrust.  Of course the overall world has it’s little honeycomb pockets of honey with honest-working people buzzing in their lives for the greater good.  

 

But coming back to me, my purpose, and my stability, I’ve no choice but to rest my case of happiness into studying, labor, and discipline. I’m a soldier in my own war, and there is no giving in.  

 

So here I am, chiseling my goals out of the glaciers of my gloom.

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Immaterial heaven of my living self

I will wait in patience 

Until that which was unknown becomes apparent

And until prayers and destiny reach their verdict

 no rush, I’m happy as I am.
Unfortunately what’s best is that time be taken for clarity

For both cases to be solved and given their due burials

 And toss away our last living flowers of the past into it’s casket for cremation

After all, this ambiguity is well-wishing. Although it leaves huge gaping holes in my heart, I must accustom myself to the ice cool breeze willowing through this freshly carved cave

Perhaps one day it’ll become as magnificent and jeweled as the worlds oldest caves.

It’ll become my castle, my sanctuary of ever flowing hopes and dreams. Pure tears from the valley of my eyes, furnishing mirrored stalagmites of sincere desires.

Reflecting the years of sabr  

and dedication, and the serene streams of honesty meandering through and through.

This is my artwork, this is my treasure, which no eye has seen.

And it’s all carefully crafted by my patience, sincerity, and destiny.

This is the immaterial heaven of my living self.

The throne of my mind-palace. 

Dear brain

Dear brain, sometimes​ you screw me over 

But other times, when I can’t feel , you open things up for me.

When my emotions and desires rage a storm, you put a cap on it and make it drizzle and call over the sun to show me rainbows.

Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions and my heart has to become the detective and find a way out, but then you rejoice and humbly celebrate with my success.

You wait in patience when times are tough and I want to give up, and when I want to play tug-a-war, you let me win only so I can see that you were right after all.

You teach me things ,experience after experience, and calm my excitement when I get too hyper. 

Just wanna say thanks, even though I want to punch you for being an idiot or thinking too fast for me to recall .

yep, thanks for hanging in there as a splurge you with memory after memory. And helping me not forget what matters.

avoiding jealous ppl

Note.

I don’t shy away from trouble, but I shy away from jealous hearts.

With trouble, there’s always an opposite side of the coin, but with jealousy, nobody can show them through except themselves.  and I’d rather not rely on ppl to overcome their jealousy.  I’d rather be safe from them.

In trouble, there’s a chance of 70 excuses, forgiveness, or moving on.  whatever happens, you have freedom of choice.

In the heat of jealousy, there’s no protective shade to shelter you from the burning rays.

 

Punched in the face by hypocrisy

Bismillahi rahmani rahim

How should I start this.  Amidst the wonderful opportunities of meeting amazing people, I’ve also crossed-paths to discover instances that kinda broke my heart.  Hypocrisy.  My intention isn’t to point out the hypocrisy in others, rather it’s to recollect the sadness that I experience and find a window of sunshine through it.

I’ve been basically a hermit for the past few years ever since coming back from Bayyinah in 2013, and in general the circumstances in my life had left me with very little understanding of people and the outside world.

So all of a sudden since getting back in touch with the community and in general, life itself, I’ve discovered many uniquely spectacular people.  I fell in love with everyone that showed even a little bit of humanity and respect. I also found people I thought were inspiring and like-minded, like I’ve finally found the right crowd of people, -despite me still being the quirky oddball weirdo (my highschool personality still resonates from within) ,

erm so where was I..  yeah so there were some really cool people I met and I kinda looked up at em but then as I spent more time, things weren’t as I thought they’d be. Small uncanny surprises made their way and I actually realized how much I disagreed with these people.

Like a lot.

I thought maybe it’s a culture difference.  but nowadays, most people develop their own versions of culture.  idk yaar i’m just saying that when these people display Islamic practice and then I see some things that aren’t very islamic, more like not islamic, like un-Islamic.

it just kinda hit me.

One of the worst cases was when the Imam-uncle was straight up harrassing me for 4 hours when I told him my marriage was an insult to Islam and that info about my marriage is confidential information.

Like bro that aint how being an “imam” works.. ugh! this is why people hate Islam! he made me hate being born as a girl.  the misogyny and arrogance was fuming out of him.

that’s one of the extreme cases though.

There are lighter cases but I guess in this day and age, these are all nuances.  nobody cares.

I care tho.

eheh that’s why im writing about it.  I know I have my weaknesses, and I accept that when I do bad things, that they’re bad things, and I more than wish for others to not suffer from weaknesses like mine. But when you preach one thing and then show another thing, that’s when it’s messed up.

when you appear as a role model for youngsters, that’s when it’s messed up.

and when you talk a ton, say all these super ilm-y (knowledgey)  things, but then your actual demakh (mind, baal)  appears empty, that’s when it kinda just slightly punches me across the face in astonishment.

like there’s so much talk about taking a right turn, but then why do I see you limping to the left side of the street.

ur just another person to me now, but one who punched me in the face.  with good qualities and bad qualities, but one who punched me in the face.

I’ll pray for you and strive hard to educate others to not be like you, and most importantly, for me to not be like you,  somebody who admired you.

 

A secret, intentionally forgotten

Is chivalry a secret?

Silently preserved in the archives of patriarchy

Is a woman’s respect and honor a conspiracy as much as it is a horrid dream
You think you’re being casual but damn it I know what you’re doing

I’m not your bro or broski

It’s a projection to enjoy my reaction and feed yourself

I’m not your friend, I’m a woman with honor and dignity

Because I wouldn’t want anyone else treated like that, regardless of who they are.

Chastity isn’t only on the inside

It’s everything on the outside

Be loyal to yourself, let others be loyal to themselves as well.