sing-songs

F(inches)

2012-01-31T23:59:00.003-05:00

I see

Flecks of

Yellow and grey

I watch them

I listen

To what they have to say

I know

They will

Show me the way

I follow

Where they go

So that I can be saved

Oh, these twisted ends, these turns

These thorny paths unfurled

I felt my way across

I had faith I won't get lost

I travelled back in time

To the stories that were mine

To remember my pain

From where I came

I used to

Pray to

Things I had not seen

I revisited

The places

To which I had not been

The salvation

Came to me

Not the other way round

I circled

In circles

Until I was found

Oh, these twisted ends, these turns

These thorny paths unfurled

I felt my way across

I had faith I won't get lost

I travelled back in time

To the stories that were mine

To remember my pain

From where I came

I have to for(give) her

2011-11-16T00:48:00.002-05:00

I sing this song

with all my pain

I have to for(give) her

The pain I feel

is much too strong

I have to for(give) her

Although sometimes

nine months's too long

I have to for(give) her

And though this time

I won't be wrong

I have to for(give) her

In chanting waters

2011-09-20T17:23:00.002-04:00

I am the spirit that guides you

I am your conscience that fights you

I am that voice you've lost, my dear

When trouble comes and you feel the fear

You were too busy wasting away,

Searching for stillness and silence,

Your efforts were futile, to my dismay

They only lead to vengeance and violence

Find me, in chanting waters

Find me, in chanting song

Find me, in dancing waves

Dancing the dance of life

Pen-sieve

2011-09-06T11:59:00.003-04:00

uPPer west side called,

they want their story back.

you took what you came for,

made a name for yourself,

got your game on, play on.

the phone is ringin off the hook,

tell your mama you're a crook,

bad boys who steal young girls' hearts.

persuasion took you by surprise,

which only leaves me to surmise

how naive and unprepared you came.

for this game,

this night, tonight,

is my battle ground.

I will shed blood, and tears,

and fight, fight

until my breath leaves my body without a sound.

Collapsing, you grasp for air

pensively i gazed across the grass

the breeze shuffled the fields

silently, we both lost to the skies.

Fish bones

2011-05-17T08:39:00.002-04:00

Scales are scary.

They glisten in the dark.

My eyes water,

Glitter like a shark.

My heart jumps a beat,

A sudden noise erupts

I turn the blinds down,

And all the doors are shut.

Fish bones

Scattered every where

Sticks and stones

Make me moan

But make these fish bones... disappear.

Seize the day

2011-03-18T08:55:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I'm right

Sometimes I'm wrong

Sometimes what I feel

Gets in the way of being strong

Sometimes I hurt

Sometimes I feel bad

Sometimes I'm joyous

And nothing makes me sad

When I look over my shoulder,

Look behind at my past

There's so much that lies ahead

Why do I shy away from this path?

When I take stock of my life

And the many mistakes that I made

There's so much to take away from

Learn from, to help me seize the day

Sometimes I stumble

Sometimes I fall

Sometimes I get up

And dust it all off

Sometimes I run

Sometimes I stroll

Some days I wonder

Will this help me grow?

When I look over my shoulder,

Look behind at my past

There's so much that lies ahead

Why do I shy away from this path?

When I take stock of my life

And the many mistakes that I made

There's so much to take away from

Learn from, to help me seize the day

I can't and I won't

and I'll choose and control

These mottos I lived by

Have served to unload

The pressures upon me

That now I can bear

For I'm wiser and bolder

And willing to dare

Woman in the shadows

2011-02-07T21:38:00.002-05:00

Flames flicker in the light

The wind licks them softly

Gently in the night

The hounds howl to the moon

Hurry, come inside

They will smell your sweating

Even when you're out of sight

Come come come with me,

I'm the woman in the shadows,

Won't you trust in me,

You knew me once before

Told me you were sure

Now you turn away from my darkness.

Coloring

2011-01-17T15:28:00.002-05:00

With you, I learned to play

I learned the joys of coloring outside the lines

With you, I could soften

And leave my worries behind

With you, my boundaries were abandoned

An escape from my self-imposed rigidity

As I took my first breath and inhaled

The freeing wind of your love and integrity

So come now and play with me,

Together we can laugh and embrace

For tomorrow when we grow old,

We will forever remember this place.

The fLIRT

2010-11-19T21:08:00.002-05:00

Painted nails,

Blush on cheeks,

Pouted lips tell quite the tale

Eyes that sparkle,

With a wink

A twinkling look that never fails

Hush hushed whispers

On a hot breath

Keep your cool,

Don't break your sweat

I will tease as I please

I will call till you fall

I will jump start your heart

Baby, won't you play, play play...pretty pretty?

Gentle touch

Giggles in between

Making moves you've never seen

Tilt head back,

Moving languidly

Got your blood racing rapidly

Softly shift

Closer than before

Smile and gaze

Keeps you wanting more

I will tease as I please

I will call till you fall

I will jump start your heart

Baby, won't you play, play play...pretty pretty?

Baby, won't you play along?

Help me find the lyrics to my song

Caress your skin

With my finger tips, now

Don't be foolish

Kiss my lips!

Si(n)news

2010-10-20T23:19:00.002-04:00

Hot, hot, hot!

Smells anything but fresh.

It hits you in the face,

This stench of melting flesh.

Sweat dripping,

Pouring down my face

Down my arms, knees, legs,

Pores open in every place.

Focused on my breathing,

I inhaled, exhaled,

Forgetting the moment, forgetting you

Forgetting how I have failed.

Pushing my self to reach up and out

In ways I never thought I could

Tremendous stretching feeling here

And if I knew better, I would.

Tendons relax and contract

As I release your venom from my soul

Purifying the holiest of holies,

Discovering the pieces that make me whole.

Metastasized

2010-09-03T18:57:00.004-04:00

I lay there on the cool, clean surface

As her hands worked hard on my body

Kneading into my deep tissue,

I did not expect her to find my scars.

Goading them out of my skin

She held them ever so gently.

Long forgotten aches and pains

Emerged from memories afar.

The traumas had metastasized into my cells,

And I felt each one as her fingers pressed down.

Deeper and deeper, she caressed firmly,

As the tears rolled down my face.

I took in a sharp breath and released my agony

Allowing myself to soften to her touch.

The smells of oils melted my skins,

The serene music took me to a better place.

I found myself praying for my wounds to heal,

As she rubbed down into the small of my back,

Bringing me face to face with my hurts,

And with the possibility of not carrying them around.

I felt safe and I felt cocooned,

So I lay there in a deep trance.

Picking up pieces to myself,

Bringing them home, for at last, they were found.

Wanted: A Sense of Humor

2010-07-10T21:29:00.003-04:00

This writer feels the need to justify why her writing seems rather self-indulgent. You see, ever since she was very young, she always figured that she was writing for an audience. Even something as private as a secret diary could be read (and was read) by someone else. The minute a thought is transformed into the written word, it ceases to be private. It now belongs to the reader, or readers, and is subject to interpretation, criticism, standing ovation, etc.

So she finds it very hard to be honest, knowing that her words and songs have caught the eyes of someone else, and she really wants them to know who she is and why she is but this awful need to be seen and read and understood in a certain way keeps her from writing about anything but herself. You see, the funny thing is, you can't ever be done writing about yourself if you feel so misunderstood, you're never done explaining.

This writer enjoys reading the works of others and often wishes that such profound words would enter her thoughts so that she could write about them instead. Or perhaps something witty to comment on, or spiritual to explain, or innovative to present...but alas, she remains, well, a bit empty. This is a rather strange phenomena, because she used to be quite verbose, but now feels unsure of the very words that she had mastered.

It almost seemed like these words turned against her as she tried harder and harder to decipher their meanings. So the more she tried to dissect them, the smaller and smaller they became, until there was nothing left to dissect and she was left with nothing. Just some letters and symbols that can go together in various shapes and forms, but seem arbitrary now.

There's something dead inside, and it's starting to smell.

Conscientious

2010-06-27T19:58:00.002-04:00

Painstakingly careful - deliberate and thoughtful

Thorough, organized, aiming to achieve it all

Diligently meticulous - perhaps it comes at a price

For all the assiduousness in the world can't make you very nice

Kindness is hard, being amiable a wish

For those who are stuck, painstakingly selfish

The rules are what you live by

The rules that will not bend

Rigidity makes them strong

Leaving you stubborn, but without a friend

So alone, you ponder, and deliberate at your best

For this is what you are best at,

Especially once your mind is set.

Grinding your humanity away,

Perfecting those imperfections,

You hope someone will help you lead the way

To a place where weaknesses are only conceptions.

Oh you ego, you fool

Why must you work so hard?

To prove that you're above all,

Or to punish yourself for being scarred?

Your pride shall remain wounded

For all of eternity

Because despite your frantic efforts

You will never achieve genuine compassion and sincerity.

Chemistry - does it matter?

2010-06-23T15:02:00.003-04:00

Chemistry, the science of matter, never made much sense to me. Why bother? Why spend time trying to understand the composition, behavior, structure, and properties of something that is bound to change anyways? Nothing stays the same.

Me, I like same, I like routine, and most of all, I like predictability...chemistry doesn't quite have those properties (I discovered that early on, when my final grade in Chemistry was a glaring D+ in 10th grade). The slightest reaction can change everything, create monumentous shifts, leaving you with a sense of awe and wonder, or your hair on fire (which ever one comes first).

I'm bending time getting back to you

Maybe it will take an explosion of massive proportions to occur between my neurons before something really sparks in there about what I can do to swim through this muck I'm in.

kuch equation nahin ban raha iss waqt.

My Lady

2010-06-05T02:21:00.002-04:00

She once ruled with her heart,

Until she turned into stone.

"My lady," she said,

"would have then happily broken your bones."

She smiled at the crowds,

And said her words just right.

"My lady," she said,

"would surprise you with her might."

Her laugh as gentle as the wind,

Her gaze as soft as her buttery-smooth skin.

"My lady," she said,

"would rip out your organs from within."

"My lady, she dances, with such grace"

"My lady enraptures you with her face"

"My lady, however," she said,

" knows exactly how to put you in your place".

She was courted, wined and dined

She was sought after like a prize-winning swine

But before her head would be presented like the boar,

My lady would take it all, and then take some more.

She set her sights high,

Slithering through the cracks to get by.

"My lady," she said,

"will find a way to never die."

Wri(gh)te

2010-05-15T14:16:00.002-04:00

Hello, I am a word. A word that changes, in all ways possible (looks, sounds, meanings), so you'll have to bear with me and adapt as we go along. I travel a lot, you see, from mouth to mouth, page to page, cavewall to papyrus to sky (ever seen a plane write me like a cloud or in color?). I'm trying my very best to be charming and witty at the moment, but you'll see that I'm not faring too well.

I get stuck, sometimes, lodged in your throat like a piece of fruit or salt-water taffy. So there I am, just hanging around in your esophagus, waiting to jump out into the room and be recognized (unless your mouth is full, in which case I would like the courtesy of you creating some space there before you lurch me out along with bits and pieces of that banana bread). I do apologize for not coming to you right away when you want me, it just takes me a while to figure out what you need me to be in that instant...and let's face it, I'm not the only one to blame here, I mean, maybe if you were more in touch with your genuine self a little more, you wouldn't misuse me like you do sometimes, now would you?

As a word, I sometimes find myself worrying about my lifespan - is it just me, or am I getting shorter and shorter? In today's world, I really dont know what to expect sometimes...my greatest fear is being replaced by...by....by a *shudder* symbol. Oh, how WRETCHED!

See, I don't mind being accompanied by one on occasion, but they can be SUCH high maintenance at times, I mean, is it really that hard to adapt sometimes* no $ no ? thank you.

Before I go, I just want to remind you to use me wisely, intentionally (unless it's a knock knock joke, I really don't care much for those). I don't like being used to hurt others, and I think you've often made the mistake of underestimating my impact. I can be very powerful, so don't toss me around so languidly.

Last but not least, tell stupid action to bring the ego down a notch...if it wasn't for me, she wouldn't recognize herself, that loud-mouthed little @#^^&#!

How - A Victim of Circumstance

2010-05-09T07:52:00.004-04:00

How many times can a heart be broken?

Is there a way to soften the blow?

How many times can you kill my soul?

Is there really any way to know?

How many lies does it take,

To make truth seem like a mirage?

As if what I thought wasn't really there,

As if your words, I didn't really hear

Funny how you need me now

To be the villain, the cruel one

So you can be the victim

A victim of circumstance

Let me make all the decisions for you

So no one will ever think to blame you

Absolved of all responsibility,

Caught, a bystander, in the middle of my fury

You never even really had a chance

Consequences don't mean much to you

Why would they, could they, should they

Have to take a toll on your conscience

Preoccupied, you misplace your priorities

Losing my trust in between the cracks in your self-perception

So tell me how you need me now

To be the antagonist, the bad one

So you can be the victim

A victim of circumstance

Let me make all the decisions for you

So no one will ever think to blame you

Absolved of all responsibility,

Caught, a bystander, in the middle of my fury

You never even really had a chance

How wonderful it must be

To be able to ignore the possibility

That somewhere in this story

You shattered us to pieces - correction,

What a relief it must be

To finally be free

Of having someone like me

Reflect your imperfections

Of flesh and fools

2010-04-07T09:17:00.003-04:00

this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me, this isn't me--------

i'm fortune's fool, i'm my lover's fool, i'm a fool whose left with nothing to choose

i'm a flesh-eating monster, devouring your bones, just promise me i'll have nothing to lose

i'm tired and dried, like old varnish over paint, with no shine, just dull and plain

such foolishness, where did it get you, what did it get me, except all this hurt and pain?

i'll shatter the glass, the china, i'll strip the walls and tear it apart, tear it all down

i won't let you make a fool out of me, i'll burn your flesh until it melts into the ground

Reaching out

2010-03-28T21:33:00.002-04:00

I have no songs to sing

No lyrics to bring to life

I have no voice to use

And no one can tell me why

I lost my path to somewhere

It's too late to retrace my steps

I'm waiting out the time now

But first let me catch my breath

And I just want your embrace

And I just want to hold you close

And I just want to know that everything will be ok

I'm reaching out...

Oh, whenever you said "Believe me"

I trusted your every word

My conviction in you kept me safe

Didn't know how much it would hurt

I was good, I was bad, I was honest

Never would I lie to you

But the deceit you gave in return

Made everything come untrue

And I just want your embrace

And I just want to hold you close

And I just want to know that everything will be ok

I'm reaching out...

Oh will there be something

Waiting for me

On the other side?

Will you match me, dear

Willingly, will you join me,

I don't want you to be obliged

And I just want your embrace

And I just want to hold you close

And I just want to know that everything will be ok

I'm reaching out...

Fueling Fires

2010-03-25T23:01:00.003-04:00

Fires were fueled

As emotions dueled

Across the battlefield

Hearts had to stop

To sit back and watch

Eyes shedding the tears

Crusted and molding

Bitter pus-oozing sores

Be-jewel my very core

i'M RUNNING OUT OF BREATH

im running out of time

i'm running out on you

i'm running, running to save my mind

The lines on my palms

Stir up a storm

So unfamiliar, this skin

But you, stranger

Are strangest of all

From outside and from within

So unbelievable, my emotions

They took you by surprise

So you cast them aside,

You brushed them away

Pretend they were small

But you lose me anyway

These fires are soaring

Fueled to new heights

Plunging to new depths

tAKE NOTE, OH NAIVE ONE

Before you meet our death.

Whose (who's) truth?

2010-03-14T20:15:00.003-04:00

My story versus your story

whose truth are we vying for here?

My damages and your hurts

neither one is spared

My wins and losses

Your facts and lies

Select wisely

Before this relationship dies

I suffer my pains alone

Longingly looking at you, love

Not knowing the bruises you have inflicted

With those words you did not say

You creep away slowly,

As if pushed aside by an invisible force

Or perhaps it is something else

The true voice of your heart that pulls you away

How how how how

How could you, could i, would i

Who's truth, what does she want

Do we accept, reject, or deny?

These words, these letters,

Spill out so b r o k e n l y

Spewing alongside the rivers of my blood

That flows so freely

My softer innards

Gushing forth from your wounds

I scratched, you bled

You cheated, I fled

I fled for cover

To hide my vulnerability

While I give you shelter

Behind my masked smiles and my gentle words

I cradle your ego

As boils burst beneath my skin

The rage, it quiets

The truth of our two worlds.

Vulnerable

2010-03-06T09:15:00.002-05:00

- capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt, as by a weapon

- open to moral attack, criticism, temptation, etc

- (of a place) open to assault; difficult to defend

this is very difficult for me to do. it takes every ounce of energy in my cells to keep me from running away. i want to hide, cower, shield myself from being in a vulnerable state. so now i'm combatting my defenses and forcing myself to do what doesn't feel natural. it's enough to give me a migraine if i think about it for long. the anger and resentment tries to creep in, probably to protect, and i have to shake it off to come back to being vulnerable.

Whispers in the night

2010-02-21T20:40:00.003-05:00

The stars are swept,

are swept away

The stars are swept,

are swept away,

The stars are swept,

are swept away,

And I shine down,

shine down instead.

The moon whispers

to the winds,

"I'll caress you gently

Caress your lips"

The winds, they blush and

Blow the moon astray

The stars are swept,

are swept away.

The clouds, they wept

They wept last night

As the waters ran wild

Into the rivers and streams.

The trees sighed, drooping to their fate

Boughs heavy, under the weight

My knees were scraped,

My body ached

My sides bursting at the seams

The fog seeped through the cracks

Fading into the concrete walls

Leaving behind a dewy scent

Like bare legs on morning grass in the Fall

"Shut the windows, shut your doors"

Cries were heard down the streets

"The mist is coming, it's coming this way,

Don't you see the stars, swept away?"

whispers in the night

Blue

2010-02-06T18:16:00.002-05:00

im in a different state of mind

i feel like i've left my essence behind

im no longer able to carry on

i can't find where i belong

so much has been crushed

too much for the eyes to bear

i can't hear anything but my

heart beat ringing inside my ears

hold me, won't somebody please hold me

as i fall apart,

it's all blue and grey now

this pain won't wash away now

i am all blue,

bruised and used

blue

i drag my soul across the tarnished ground

left alone, there is no one around

i cant find no courage to stand

so how will u ever understand?

all this time, i spent on you

looking for something that was not there

now abandoned, i feel abused

as u remind me that life's not fair

hold me, won't somebody please hold me

as i fall apart,

it's all blue and grey now

this pain won't wash away now

i am all blue,

bruised and used

blue

just listen, please listen

i have something to say

i need to get these words out

before the wind takes them away

hear me, hear my voice

as i cry out to the skies

this dull ache in my soul

hides behind my muffled cries

hold me, won't somebody please hold me

as i fall apart,

it's all blue and grey now

this pain won't wash away now

i am all blue,

bruised and used

blue

Wondering

2010-01-23T15:55:00.002-05:00

white bones

between grinding teeth

crushed powder

discarded at your feet

fur collars and

oversized shades,

that designer label

must be custom-made

snow-cones and lollipops

make home in ruby red lips

the eyes staring languidly

at misshapen finger tips

oh, what promises will this night hold?

as i make my way across the bar

she sits in a corner, sipping a martini

i stop, wondering if i've gone too far

my mind plays tricks on me

confusing lights, red or green

the self-check system has shut down

error codes pop up on the screen

this dim lighting

this hazy atmosphere

reminds me of my journey

and how long i've waited to get here

oh, what promises will this night hold?

as i make my way across the bar

she sits in a corner, sipping a martini

i stop, wondering if i've gone too far

oh, what joys will i find

between the soft folds of her flesh?

will i ride out this wave of temptation

and find my salvation

in the arms of this seductress?

oh, what promises will this night hold?

as i make my way across the bar

she sits in a corner, sipping a martini

i stop, wondering...wondering...oh, wondering...

Lebanese Blond

2010-01-04T00:17:00.001-05:00

Too low to find my way
Too high to wonder why
I've touched this place before
Somewhere in another time
Now I can hear the sun
The clouds drifting through the blinds
A half a million thoughts
Are flowing through my mind

A satellite recalled your voice
Sent me round the world again
All the night you've dreamt away
Sent me round my heart again
One touch upon my lips
And all my thoughts are clear
I feel your smoky mist
Up to the stratosfear

Did you notify my way
To hide a wonder why
I've touched this place before,
So we're in another time
Now I can hear the sound
The clouds drifting through the blidge
A half a million thoughts
Are flowing through my mind

Did you notify my way
To hide a wonder why
I've touched this place before,
So we're in another time
Now I can hear the sound
The clouds drifting through the blidge
A half a million thoughts
Are flowing through my mind

- Lebanese Blond, Thievery Corporation (Garden State Soundtrack)

The Waiting Room

2009-12-23T21:56:00.003-05:00

Sitting in the waiting room

I'm ticking like a time bomb, ticking

Hoping to catch a glimpse of

That shadow of my past

Will she walk by me

Will she recognize me

Will she ever really

See who she's destined to be

They were dreams

That she had for herself

We all want to get there

They were her standards

Of measuring up to herself

We all have ideals to live up to if we dare

Hanging on by a thread

I'm loosely holding on, holding

To something I thought I had

In my control but alas

Will I ever find it

Will I recognize it

Will I ever really

See who I'm destined to be

They were dreams

That I had for myself

We all want to get there

They were my standards

Of measuring up to myself

We all have ideals to live up to if we dare

She's in her twenties

While he's still in his earlies

And they both are so lovely

But jaded by their families

And they hold on so tightly

As they whisper quietly

About their plans

To take flight

Leaving the waiting room

Behind.

A snap, a still, a shot

2009-11-20T23:31:00.003-05:00

Picture me naked

Take a black and white polaroid

Take a digital still

Whatever it takes to capture me in your memory

Imagine me incumbent

The rising political star

Set against the unholy poverty

That backdrop of heartache

I arch my back

Thrusting my hips toward your lens

My lips parted

As a whisper escapes

My hands turned upward

Crawling towards integrity

I hear your shutter clicking away

In the softness of my neck

The light hits my birth mark

A bite left behind by nature's kiss

I establish my legitimacy

Fighting for credibility

Against all odds,

Against the wisdom induced by age

Will you take me seriously now?

As my scorching dark eyes

Burn a hole through your pages?

My body contorted

To satisfy your desire for the unusual

With my legs grounded now,

I only allow you to see what I can control

This snapshot,

This still,

This synaptic message

Will be the synopsis of my story

Of Patchwork and Crossroads

2009-11-14T12:31:00.002-05:00

"I know i think i feel something."

what?

Shall we call this emotional distancing? It's three degrees of separation...from yourself. Pushing people away for the sake for self preservation, now that I see alot of, but what happens when you push yourself away from, well, yourself?

Maybe if you're self-destructive (a cutter, an anorexic, a suicide-bomber, take your pick), it may not sound like such a bad idea. You find yourself at the crossroads, one path leading you towards others, one leading to new (unknown?) territory, one leading to isolation...and then there's the one you're coming from, which leads you back to yourself.

"There's nothing there, it's empty."

Empty like an eggshell? White and bland and simple. Some(one/thing) made a hole at the top, and sucked the core right out of the damn thing. So it's sits there empty, fragile, and without it's "core", such a reminder of what hopes and dreams and promises could have been.

My work focuses on crushing that eggshell and then looking at all the pieces that fall apart. Then we pick up the pieces and put them back together like a patchwork quilt, finding new ways to create something old and familiar and comfortable.

The skin is the largest organ of the human body, yet few of us seem to sit comfortably in ours. Snakes shed their skins and leave behind a "skin shell". We don't always have that luxury as humans, unless perhaps you want to relive the Silence of the Lambs. Putting aside your gag-reflex for a minute, think about the people you know...whose skin would you want to "wear"? Or perhaps you would like to fashion a patchwork "skin" from different people from the different times, when you knew them for their best.

My skin is soft and hard, textured, and the older it gets, the less familiar it becomes.

This-heart-end

2009-10-28T16:52:00.002-04:00

Disheartned
This-heart-ends

Alarmed and confused
By your tempestous rage
You leave me lost and confused
And so full of hate

Hateful towards your hate
Towards your efforts to destroy
Any sign of progress and evolution
That we attempt to employ

You blow up our markets
Our women and children
Our schools burn down,
Their voices will not be forgotten

You burn the law
You scorn innovation
You loathe new ideas
You underestimate our determination

For disheartned I am,
Now, but not for long
My heart, my might, my soul
Will forever extinguish your withering flames.

Dedicated to my people

Sing a song

2009-10-24T10:53:00.003-04:00

sHe woKe uP to tHe soUnd

of tHe rAin FalLing doWn

on heR winDow pAne

sHe TurNed to lOok unDer tHe cOvErs

OnlY to diScOveR

tHat heR lOveR hAd beEn slAiN

oH, HOW SHE CRIED

OH HOW SHE BEGGED FOR HIS SOUL TO BE REVIVED

Won't somebody sing me a song

That i can follow along

That will help me forget

the shame and regret

I want you to sing me a song

So i can rest my racing mind

and erase all THE memories

and leave his voice behind

SHe stUMblEd ouT of tHe RooM

sAW tHe rOses he gaVe heR NeVer blOomeD

InsTeaD tHey tuRNed MarOon and dIed

THEir wiTHered pEtaLs fLew aroUNd

Her as sHe felL on to tHe groUNd

CoVeRed in bloOd, evEn tHey diD nOt sURviVe

OH HOW SHE CRIED

OH HOW SHE CURSED THE GODS FOR WHAT THEY DENIED

Won't somebody sing me a song

That i can follow along

That will help me forget

the shame and regret

I want you to sing me a song

So i can rest my racing mind

and erase all THE memories

and leave his voice behind

HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME

move on

HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME

breathe

Help, i feel myself drowning

i CAN feEl hiS ColD EYes WAtcHing mE

Disdain

2009-09-27T00:11:00.005-04:00

I find creativity in the loneliest of places,

Lost to be found between unfamiliar faces

I crave the past to return

Where there was room to be inspired

Now I'm covered in head to toe with disdain,

Contempt and no desire

Shadows, do you see me?

I'm covering my tracks

Escape seems so easy

Until you're faced with the facts

We rode alongside the sea shore

Early in the dank morning light

Sharing stories and laughter

Which today

Seem so far away

I am left now with a hunger

For something I can't describe

The cracks in my soul

Have opened a hole

And I'm too afraid to look inside

I feel myself pulling back

Away from this rancid,

This wretched embrace you offer now

I refuse to be engulfed in your misery

I will not take on this pain,

This persona of disdain

For I have made my offer

And there is no room for compromise

No room for bargain

I have nothing more to sacrifice

You have nothing more to gain

My time, my energy,

My every ounce of empathy

Has diminished due to your apathy

So now I turn to unfamiliar places

To look for familiar faces.

The Shroud of Self-Loathing

2009-09-25T11:19:00.002-04:00

He rushed across the platform as the train doors began to close. His clothes were tattered, reeking of urine and alcohol, and he wore a patch over one eye and a blue baseball cap. The people on the train pulled away as he walked by them, avoiding eye-contact by burying themselves in the morning newspapers and i-phones and blackberries.

She overheard him, despite the songs playing on her headphones, talk about how he'd been homeless for seven days, how the good lord jesus christ would bless everyone aboard the train for helping a hungry man feed himself, anything, please, any spare change will do. He walked back and forth, his speech slurring as he explained he had lost some teeth in his left jaw which hurt due to an untreated gum infection. She couldn't seem to drown him out, engrossed as she was on her hand-held device, feeling frustrated and extreme pain in her conscience. People, they sighed and rolled their eyes, looked up and looked down, fixated on anything that didn't involve empathizing with this man. The doors opened and closed and he continued to plead for help, may the lord watch over you, may he bless us all and help us in our time of need.

She wrestled with the voices in her head as his voice seem to grow louder and louder, she debated whether giving this man a dollar would help him buy food or crack, whether it would relieve her of her own demons, whether it would set an example for others, whether it would make a difference. People watched as she approached him and handed him some money, made eye-contact and smiled at him as he gave her a toothless grin. Suddenly everyone was watching her. She left the train and didn't look back.

What could possibly be worse than ignoring the plight of others?

Feeling helpless.

Disenchantments

2009-08-13T02:59:00.004-04:00

Wounds, re-opened

Sore and bruised

Battered and beaten

Torn down to the bone

My ego crawls on its knees

Wandering lost through the carcass of our past

The carvings of our laughter

Tapering away in this moment

Cruel, you have become

Disengaged and unattached

I fail to recognize

As the shadows slip away.

I know I can't be with you

I do what I have to do

and I have the sense to recognize
that I don't know how to let you go
And I need just a little more silence
And I need just a little more time

Cakes, Candles and Clutter

2009-08-07T19:22:00.004-04:00

Twenty years ago, I wore a white fairy-princess outfit, complete with a crown, magic wand, and wings with silver stars, to my 5th birthday party. Among the guests were Pink Panther and Goofy, school friends and family, and people who I have probably not seen since. A poor soul struggling to make money and provide for his family was handed a camera and his sole job was to follow me around with it all night as I ran around in my new white shoes. He'd ask me to stop and look up at the camera and smile, while all I wanted to do is stick my tongue out and make goofy faces at him until I got bored and then be chased around some more by other 5 year olds. Between a game of passing-the-parcel and duck-duck-goose, I lost some stars off my wings and my magic wand. By the time I was asked to cut the cake, Pink Panther had wondered off, tired thanks to some of my friends yanking is bright pink tail. I became fierce when it came time to blow out the candles, elbowing away my peers who were inching towards blowing it out before me. After I cut the cake, I made my signature move which always brought out a cry of dismay from my mother every year...I licked the frosting off the knife. It was an unnecessarily lavish party, more for my parents than for me, but it was memorable.

Other birthdays that followed never quite measured up to that one. Sure, we had my 6th birthday where I was Little Red Riding Hood and we had red chairs out in the lawn that matched and caterers and balloons, or my 7th birthday where I was Barbie, covered in pink from my feathered boa to my noisy plastic pink stilettos, bossing around my friends between a game of Simon-says and musical chairs...but nothing as grand as my 5th birthday.

Many people I know don't like to make a fuss about their birthdays. I'm not one of them. It's bad enough I expect to be treated like royalty 364 days of the year, but on my birthday...well, let's just say that it's all about me. And me only. I wonder if there hadn't been such a fuss about my childhood birthdays, would I still grow up expecting a full day of celebration-me?

Twenty-five years ago, I was delivered as the great monsoon of '84 hit the city of Karachi. I sit today many miles away from all that, as a storm takes over this new city of mine, thinking of balloons and bunting, rich white frosting, clapping hands and the never-ending clutter of ribbons and wrapping paper.

Working

2009-08-04T00:42:00.002-04:00

I'm watching him chew his food from across the table. Well, he's not really even chewing, just kind of stuffing-and-swallowing as fast as he can.

"You know, I love watching a man eat...you can tell alot about him by the way he treats his meals...plus, watching that jaw in action is just sooo....hot..."

I'm wondering to myself if I really sounded like that. Once upon a time. Now I can feel the skin on my forehead wrinkle as I try to mask the horrified expression on my face. I struggle, managing to get by unnoticed. I guess it gets easier with time.

I'm wishing for a moment of clarity to bust through the french doors behind me, preferably in a white shining cocktail dress, stiletto heels and a bright pink feathered boa. Why? Because I wouldn't recognize it any other way.

I didn't realize I was being watched.

I wrench and ache and moan and gasp and collapse in exhaustion. There is no release or relief, only a sense of postponement.

So I wait.

Barely breathing

2009-07-30T11:38:00.003-04:00

"What the hell is going on?!" She thought to herself.

She had developed a new voice in her head that allowed her to scream even louder, until the walls of her brain collapsed into themselves like jelly.

"This is so fucked up! How can two people play games with each other like this?" She wondered how long she could continue this silent mind battle...it was becoming exhausting.

"Sweetheart, come here," her mother called. "I know that face of yours', where you're thinking really hard about something, now come here and tell me what's going on, why are you so confused?"

"I'm not confused, mother, I'm just..." the words got stuck in her throat. This was hard. Maybe now was a good time to not be a know-it-all? Maybe? "Well, even if I am confused, I'd rather stay in this confusion than find answers that don't make much sense." "There!" she thought, "that ought to shut her up and keep her from giving me hell."

It wasn't quite that easy.

"Well, think about it, isn't having an idea, regardless of whether it's wrong or right in the moment, better than having no clue at all? I mean, can you imagine what life would be like, to be confused?" Such disdain coloring the word "confused".

The screaming voice in her head was back with a vengeance.

"You stupid woman, you don't like confusion because you think you have all the answers, you've always had an answer for everything and it's taken me years to finally see what BULLSHIT half of your explanations have been! STOP DELUDING YOURSELF, YOU SELF-INDULGENT COW!"

"Actually mother..." she began tentatively, trying to keep herself from seething, "I used to think the same way, and (this was painful) maybe you're right, but I think I'm going to slow it down and not rush to find answers that may or may not be there. I'd rather try something new, like taking my time, to find answers that make sense to me."

Uh-oh. She heard that "me" and she pounced in all her glory.

"Oh, you kids these days with your "me me me" and "it's my life", what, have you forgotten where you come from, your values, like learning from others as opposed to making the same mistakes? Why do you think you live in this world alone, isolated from everyone else? Such a selfish generation of insolent..."

The barrage continued, but she had become better at tuning it out by this point. She went further and further inside herself until she reached that little girl that needed soothing. "There, there, you don't need to worry, everything is fine, none of this means anything, you're fine, you're great, you're wonderful, and I'm here for you, I will protect you and keep you safe."

"...and let me tell you, when we were your age, our parents..."

She looked over her mother's wobbling head and out to the window behind her. Such a pleasant summer day...a day to be outside, walking with the breeze kissing her skin...

"...so don't ever forget where you come from!"

Ladies and gentlemen, it was over. Applause.

"Ok mother, anyways, I think I'm going to go outside for a walk, I'll be back in a bit."

"Oh alright, but can you get me a couple things from the store? Your kitchen is running low on a few things, here, let me make a list..."

"Great. My kitchen is not up to her standards. Just like I'll never be."

"...and get some more cleaning supplies too, this place is such a wreck..."

She clutched her bag tightly and shut the door behind her, hurrying to get out before anything else came up. The minute she stepped outside, she realized she had been holding her breath on the way down. She finally allowed herself to breath.

Crap-Shoot

2009-07-23T22:19:00.002-04:00

I've gone from confusion to Confucius in less than 2 months, and yet I remain none the wiser.

...as i clumsily strummed my guitar...

My senses don't necessarily work in tandem with the rest of my brain, my intuition is a sputtering engine hoping to revive itself as it chokes on the fumes off my intellect, and the only thing my gut is telling me is that I need to get rid of it. ASAP.

...winding up your body, you don't have to stop...

The mucus, the flem,

There's no need to pretend

Save this act for later

You're just like all other men

Maybe I can go out and buy a new set of digitized thoughts on a mega-memory card, you know, one of those tiny little chips that fit nicely right under the cerebellum and all you have to do is hit the little green switch and WHOOSH. Congratulations, you now have the IQ of Einstein, the EQ of Gandhi, and the self-fulfilling capabilities of a habitual serial killer. Let's sit back and watch as society humps itself to death.

Of ferris wheels and dust bunnies

2009-07-10T10:48:00.002-04:00

The craters in my minds are shifting. I don't think I'll say "mind" anymore...it's far too limiting. Most of us have minds, we have intelligences, and they are always in a process of evolution.

Ferris wheels turn in 360s...but we use 360 degree changes to describe changes, good or bad, in ourselves or in others, which doesn't seem to make sense. People don't come full circle, we either move forward and grow, or move backwards and isolate ourselves. More of an up-and-down motion, like a see-saw...

I keep coming back to the craters in my minds. Filled to the brim, like my vacuum cleaner. Which has done a less than an adequate job of collecting all the dust bunnies in my home. I need a mental vacuum cleaner that will unclog the dust bunnies from my minds. As they're sucked away, you see what's been sitting there all along, except it's been so long that it almost looks new. As if it pulled a 360 on you.

Surprise!

Broken

2009-02-14T14:32:00.003-05:00

I'm broken i'm broken i'm broken
i'm bound and
i'm broken i'm broken i'm broken

my throat is closing in
i gasp for air
i'm trapped inside myself
searching for what's no longer there

i'm broken i'm broken i'm broken
like an old record player
stuck and unable to move
with nothing to offer, nothing to share

there is confusion lingering
in my stomach, in my heart
i try to hold it in my hands
keep it away from my head
trying to forget what you said

trying to go back to bed
but i can't sleep
this roaring won't leave my ears
your words will never soothe my fears

i'm broken i'm broken i'm broken
like a rotten dusty chair

i'm battered and beaten and broken down
my spirit lies beneath the ground
the wood on my soul has chipped away
the iron around my heart has rusted away

i'm broken i'm broken i'm broken
into pieces, torn into shreds
i'm broken i'm broken i'm broken
my strength is gone, i must be dead.

Heart of Gold

2009-02-07T18:22:00.001-05:00

(I modified the lyrics)

I want to live
I want to give
I want to savor
I want to flavor
I've been a miner
For a heart of gold
It's these expressions
I never give
That keep me searching for a heart of gold
That keep me searching for a heart of gold
I've been to Hollywood
I've been to Lollywood
I've been to Bollywood
I crossed an ocean
For a heart of gold
I've been in my mind
It's such a fine line
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold, I said
I've been to Hollywood
I've been to Bollywood
I crossed an ocean
For a heart of gold
I've been in my mind
It's such a fine line
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
I said...I said...I said...
Searching
Oh, yeah
Keeps me searching for a heart of gold
Keeps me keeps me
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
That keeps me searching for a - heart of gold
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold

- Neil Young/Tori Amos

Take a minute

2009-01-19T19:57:00.001-05:00

Just slow down, you're walking a little too fast
Take a breath, see the beauty in the breakdown
Close your eyes, try to stay as still as you can
Come around to another sense of being

Like the snow gathers on the branches
Of a lonely tree,
On a cold winter's day
I'll stay,
Solid and firm
By you, waiting for the seconds,
The hours pass you by, until you pause and take it in

Take a minute, take a lifetime
To enjoy and feel
Something real
Take a break from the chaos, the madness
That is your life, that consumes you over and over again
Until you take a minute or two

Just hold on, I'm finding it hard to keep up
Sometimes, see the beauty that surrounds you
Open your heart to the possibilities that lie ahead
Don't leave your spirit dead behind

When you feel exhausted
You can't go on,
It's time to relinquish control
Let life unfold
On it's own terms
And just let go

You're clutching to your sanity
As if it'll slip away
From your fingers,
So you pray
To a deity that lingers
Collecting your sins and counting your mistakes
Hoping you lose the ability to tell what's real and what's fake

Take a minute, take a lifetime
To enjoy and feel
Something real
Take a break from the chaos, the madness
That is your life, that consumes you over and over again
Until you take a minute or two

Crash course

2008-12-21T21:12:00.000-05:00

We need a plan, don’t need a sign

Can’t be towing someone else’s party line

Stay focused on what’s important now

Forget the whys, just ask me how

Extend your hand, I’ll extend you mine

Since when did kindness become a crime

Show some compassion, it’s not a weakness

Move beyond yourself, don’t regress

This is a crash course in humanity

Just a noble cause for you and me

This is a crash course in humility

A desire for some simplicity

I’m reaching out cus I can’t stand alone

I’m reaching out to you my friend

Cus I know you’ll be there in the end

I’m calling out to raise awareness

About the destruction and the madness

I’m hurting just like you must be hurting too

I’m rounding up my people, just like you must be too

This is a crash course in humanity

Just a noble cause for you and me

This is a crash course in humility

A desire for some simplicity

They can be wrapped up in their insecurities

Their needs, their wants at the expense of me

No one will respect them for all their money

It’s about time they gained some clarity

This is a crash course in humanity

Just a noble cause for you and me

This is a crash course in humility

A desire for some simplicity

This(Dis)appointment

2008-09-01T18:05:00.002-04:00

I hated my dentist appointments. Sitting on a white leather couch in the waiting room, the hum of the air-conditioner, the soft piano concerto in the background speakers, the blue-and-white tiles on the floor (home to the anxious foot-tappers)...and the smell. UGH. The smell of floss and dental plaster, mixed with the heavy perfume of the grinning receptionist. Being called in, walking down the hall to that room, with all its tools and lights and that god-awful chair..."Tilt you head back and open wide"...I used to stare into the light to avoid staring at her mole cluster...so close...so...close...

Dentists, or rather orthodontists, were more a pain in my ass than anywhere else. I roll my tongue over my teeth now, which have been free from their metalic hold for several years now. I can still feel the gap, but it's much smaller and I like it there. Despite the pain and suffering, despite all the effort, the picture isn't perfect. That's what I have left...pretty close, but not perfect. It's too much to hold expectations, even if you do give it your all and more. I guess all you can do is hope that the gap doesn't get any bigger...I don't quite have the energy for damage control. Time goes by too fast.

In the phase(face) of madness

2008-08-16T13:15:00.004-04:00

After an almost three months hiatus, I feel almost ashamed to post. Unexpected tidal waves of circumstance got in the way, and I've been too busy tending to the needs of others that I ignored myself in the process.

There is madness outside my house, floods of people and jets and boats, swarming the water like fleets shipped out on war.

There is madness inside my house, excessive demands from the smallest creatures to the largest, and a nagging feeling of procrastination that shoes up at all the wrong times and won't go away.

Like a revyying engine, my mind is sputtering along, waiting for a quick jump start to "peace". But it ain't over till the fat lady sings...all her yodeling inside my head doesn't seem to do much, no matter how long she holds that note on "La Boheme".

Does it take the fall of a judge's hammer to turn a life's sentence into reality?

...and the ball dropped

2008-05-18T22:39:00.002-04:00

the whirring paused long enough for thoughts to be heard again.

ten year plans and tenure plans - what's the difference?

there's a delayed reaction, indicative of being worn out and torn apart. a slight shift in the gaze and OOPS...the martini glass tipped over and spilled.

how can we be more poltite, understanding, and compassionate when everyone's in a hurry?
what's the rush?
nobody knows, but everyone knows everyone's in a hurry.

you heard from the "wise ones" that if u rushed, u would miss something significant, something meaningful..."slow and steady wins the race", and other such wisdumbs. but why so much emphasis on the speed of things? let's be a little more 3-dimensional here and look at the other factors. is time really everything? what about motivation? what about karma?

ok, maybe karma is tapping into some superstition and so we'll side-step that one.

what about ability? innate drives and qualities? intelligence should be a factor too, dontcha think?

we learn to learn from our experiences. the good, the bad, the that-was-just-a-poor-judgement-call-in-93, and all the colors in between. our perceptions of reality and truth shift, and yet remain as profound as the minute we popped out of the womb. my posts may not be profound, may not be earth-shattering truths or fabrications, but if u read something and it clicks somewhere at some point in time, let me know. i like knowing that i'm being heard by someone besides myself.

validation is a social need, and no one is above and beyond it (and if they think they r, then they're kidding themselves).

reach.

Disorder

2008-03-26T17:32:00.002-04:00

Papers are missing, memories are lost
Files are misplaced, and there was something else I forgot.

Emotions are piled up,
The cabinets over-flow
My migraine is building up
I can feel the tension grow

The chaos is everywhere
Disorganized, unorgnaized, does it matter?
The filth is spreading at bubonic speed
My past and future are catching up to each other

If you're going to insist on being sorry for yourself
Or if you insist on replacing me with your guilty conscience
Know that I will not, cannot carry this weight
So clean up this mess...before it's too late.

Saffron Skies

2008-03-15T13:09:00.002-04:00

There are bits and pieces of my soul lying around this room. They are scattered like glowing embers from a fire, still burning hot. They are there as reminders, so that no one forgets who I am, my fiereceness, like a roaring cry of acknowledgement.

I'm not covering up my emotions with saffron colored paint. It has the opposite effect, actually, it speaks to my boldness, my sassyness, my fiery spirit.

Even when I close my eyes, I see this orange glow. My churning stomach is orange, my quick hands are yellow, my moist lips are red, and the warmth of my body is breathing from every corner. Like a flame, I dance to my own tune, swaying and sashaying around the room, lost in my own tumble-weed world.

The winds are changing outside.

You have GOT to be kidding...

2008-02-01T11:55:00.000-05:00

narcissim - it's all the new rage, really

why, i indulge in it myself every once in a while, thank you very much...but some people take it a little too far...seriously love, not everyone u know is interested in every single detail of your life. not everyone around u is staring, not everyone is waiting, holding their breath, for u to arrive. it's ok, we're all unique, but please try to relax and don't worry about sounding like the pompous ass u r. no one gives a shit about ur opinion, except maybe ur mommy...although she seems pretty exasperated with u as well.

narcissm - i'm seeing it everywhere, really

this constant need for self-validation is a little sad and pathetic...i dont understand, who do u think u're fooling, besides yourself? u r insecure, maybe even a little beyond that, but please don't sink to such lows. it's not pretty, i assure u. save the condescending tone for somebody who cares.

narcissm - it comes in all shapes and sizes, really

i can understand this infantile obessesion with one self, but shouldn't we be growing out of it by our late teens? early 20s? mid 40s? no? apprently not. somewhere between facebook and reality tv, we developed an overly inflated ego. leaves me with a sense of impending doom for the future.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/17/fashion/17narcissism.html

What's in a name?

2008-01-27T17:53:00.000-05:00

Ammara (Nafs-e-Ammara / Commanding Soul): There are various verses in the Holy Qur'an relative to the existence of this kind of Nafs. This Nafs commands us to commit sin. It is lower than animals because they behave according to the demands of nature. When a lion or tiger devours another animal it is because it needs food. And once an animal is full it does not pursue another animal, while a man is capable of swallowing the whole world and still be hungry. Man can kill thousands and still long for more blood. There are lots of factual accounts which are indicative of the existence of Ammara, one of whom was the late Shah of Iran; the more he killed the thirstier he became and the more he stole the greedier he got. Saadi, the famous Iranian man-of-letters recounts the story of Mahmoud Shah Ghanzanavi who was at the threshold of dying but he would not die. Eventually he commanded that his royal jewels be mounted on mule backs so the caravan could pass in front of his eyes. Once this was done, he died comfortably. These are a few samples of men who became so degraded that they sank lower than any animal. Man tramples upon his nature and behaves relative to the demands of his desires and whims for which there is no limit. In short, Ammara is lowest of all the Nafs and Dr. Shariati has compared it to mud.

http://www.ezsoftech.com/akram/nafs.asp

Crusts and crumbs

2008-01-12T20:38:00.000-05:00

wood chippings and nail clippings glued on some crusty old crepe paper
was this art?

i cocked my head to the right...the greyish hues tilted quizically

i cocked my head to the left...an up-side-down frown glared back

sometimes we see something which doesnt make sense, and in an attempt to understand it we try to adopt a different perspective...but do those always work? will the unrest of not figuring something out consume us and haunt us to no end?

if i'm making sense, then congratulations, but if i'm not, it's ok...just sit with it for a while. eventually things break down, like grains of sand, or tiny crumbs, which will fall thru the cracks in our minds, and we may percieve this as a great loss.

i've had a love-hate relationship with logic, and she's mad at me for challenging her so damn much. i can't help it, i'm like an impetuous child looking for a satisfying answer.

In transit

2007-12-16T02:31:00.000-05:00

He sits quietly in the corner, minding his own business, stirring his tea mechanically every so often. He seems focused during this mundane task, but staring as him long enough, one discovers that he's constantly darting glances across the table. Stirr, stirr, quick look to the left and then back down, a heavy sigh, examining his finger nails, take a sip, shakes his head, stirr stirr, a quick look to his right...

She's eating her sandwich quickly, sloshing down some pills while she's at it with her acryllic red nails wrapped around a diet coke. She checks her palm pilot, and then she's off...forgetting her jacket on the chair. 5 minutes later she returns looking frantic-relieved-annoyed, and then she's off again...

They're trying to count all their kids, the little one won't shut up about the puppy he wants when they get back home and the baby is howling louder than the blaring holiday music over the p.a system. The stroller is pink with smiling bunnies on it that seem to be chasing each other. The mother looks bored, the father looks tired, and the older kid is looking for one of their siblings.

airports...what a strange place for ordinary people

friend

2007-11-28T20:32:00.000-05:00

i dream about you often,
even when we dont see each other,
or speak to one another.

in my dreams,
we are always side by side,
living, learning, laughing together.

i feel your presence around me
always, like you're part of the air that surrounds me.

you're not who you used to be,
and neither am i,
but i wonder if you wish to reach out to me, call out to me
or if we'll just let yet another moment slip by.

i hope that you are well
i hope your dreams and wants are fulfilled
i hope you carry me in your heart
the way i carry you, and always will.

friend.

violent dysfuntion

2007-10-13T09:04:00.000-04:00

values disintegrate with your verbal dysentery as we all listen, watch, absorb and process each other, trying to make sense of the dysfunction

i am also tempted to back out, to withdraw, the flight response is somehow embedded in my genetic code, but i dont because i'm a sadist. i'm all about the root cause, i live for the root cause, i can spend hours trying to get to the root cause, so i stick it out for the fucking root cause.

vehemently dispised, how very destructive we are when it comes to trying to make sense of the dysfunction

i cannot celebrate, for me it is a dark day, a black day, a day of sorrow and anger and resentment and pity. i am full of rage i'm not allowed to express, full of hurt i keep to myself, full of the shit u filled me with. i feel emotionally raped.

the vernacular is full of distrust, the consequences violently daunting as we try to make sense of the dysfunction

self-awareness really cant be taken for granted...how can some people be so blind, so oblivious, so UNAWARE about themselves? how does the magic of living and experiencing and understanding still manage to cloud our reality? i dont know how to undo it, i dont think i can undo it, not alone, not like this, not under these circumstances.

life is all about timing.

tic

2007-09-16T13:25:00.000-04:00

the lower lid of my right eye flickers, fast, one two three four. then stops. it happens quickly, it pulsates to remind me of its existence, then goes away for a couple mins, hours, or even days. then it comes back.

the first time i noticed it was about a yr and a half ago, when it first happened. it was during a time of stress, finishing undergrad, working on my thesis, things going crazy in life...and there goes my right eye, telling me to slow down before my head explodes.

what a tempting thought to go away for a while...not from civilization, i can handle civilization, but from u and her and him. there's over-crowing everywhere, and i need my space, i value it.

my whole life has been about distance, so it's no surprise that i crave it every once in a while. i'll take my fluttering lid along with me and attempt to passify it over a pina colada and sun-tan lotion on an isolated beach somewhere.

i feel like it's straining my eye, as in my eye actually hurts...is that possible? can it compromise my vision? my ability to see things clearly, something i thought looked like an achievable feat, may be murky and blurred now. something transpired between the eye and the brain, and in their language lies the hostility that produced this tic.

honestly?

2007-08-12T14:10:00.000-04:00

some people actually believe that they can appease everyone by means of sacrifice. what they dont see is that most sacrifices go unnoticed, disregarded, or unappreciated. and eventually, those sacrifices are given a new name..."stupidity". only in very few and rare instances do sacrifices actually make a difference for the better.

i come from a culture that insists on personal sacrifice...the more extreme, the better. the entire country celebrates sacrifice, whether it's a goat or a married woman, without any real question or thought. it devalues personal autonomy, will, and desire, for god forbid we change from the sacrificial beings we were destined to be into...*gasp* the "selfish".

now here's the real axis of evil: sacrifice, stupidity and selfishness.

i've heard people say that there's no act of sacrifice that isnt a little bit selfish...because logic dictates that by appeasing someone else, u're making things better for urself in some way too. people say alot of things. it's all just a nice poo-poo platter of psychological bullshit to me.

but i do think freud was on to something when he talked about the power of fear. as a driving force, fear can motivate to sacrifice or be selfish, or both (one for the people), and fear has the capacity to spread stupidity like a wild fire. we consume in fear for not having enough, we give up in fear for not being good enough, and we conform in fear of the unkown.

fear keeps us from danger, keeps us safe; a basic human need. in a world today where we are so far removed from any of our instincts, it's almost fearful (pardon the pun) to think about how dilapidated our perceptions of fundamental needs have become.

we are stupid when we sacrifice and selfish when we dont.

tact-ile dysfunctions of the curly-haired kind

2007-07-18T20:37:00.000-04:00

the clouds are fat with rain.
living in the city is such a thrill
no matter how mundane the daily routine may get.

there is a strange wetness in the air,
a sultery summer wind flirting with my hair.

a melody is toying with my head,
and im rushing to put it into a song.

with a forceful beat
at my feet
i walk down the streets,
my presence leading my shadow.

there's a tingle on the tip of my tongue
as i taste the first drop
my fingers scream in ecstasy
as the world slowly comes to a stop.

there's unmatched honesty in a storm
as the lightening crashes across the skies
if you listen carefully to the booming thunder
you only hear that it never lies.

im no longer a wayward stranger
although i may appear to be
sinking, trembling no more,
steady as the sea.

crash and burn - a propensity question

2007-06-28T23:45:00.000-04:00

if your relationship leaves you with first a back-ache brought on by an accident then a stiff neck brought on by u landing on ur head while a semi-friendly wrestling match, is it your body's way of telling you "HEY, THIS CANNOT END WELL!!!"....?

apparently malcolm gladwell, the author of "blink", is convinced in the value of snap judgements. he says that u can tell if a marriage is going to be a failure or not just by observing the couple for less than 30 seconds.

that sounds like a nano-snap judgement to me.

but could there be some truth to that? should we just rely on our instincts? but what about all those people who always seem to be complaining about how bad their instincts r...u know, the single friend who says he has a propensity to always go for "the wrong kind of guy" or the hopeless female student who just happens to wind up in trouble in school every other month...r those people relying on the wrong kind of instincts?

the truth is, some people plan ahead and get somewhere while some have a great stroke of luck to get them what they want...others, the i-plan-and-i-plan-but-it-all-blows-up-in-my-face and the i-just-have-bad-luck r special. they're special because they still havent figured out a way to get with the program. something is amiss, whether it's their hindsight or instinct or daily hour-by-hour organizer chart...

me...im more of a planner...and it's because my "instincts" have not always served me well. and yet i continue find myself in not-so-delightlfully-uncomfortable situations. i guess i have that certain....quality.

how pakistani are you?

2007-06-03T22:40:00.001-04:00

Arey, you are 62% Pakistani!

Shabash puut, your score puts you in the ranks of the REAL Pakistanis! Have some lassi to celebrate - maybe it'll encourage your true character to come out more often.

How Pakistani are you? (first class number one!)
Create a Quiz

paddle-ball

2007-05-29T23:46:00.000-04:00

ever play paddle ball? the paddle with the ball attached to it with an elastic string that stretches out every time it touches the paddle surface?

that's me.

i'm like the ball, attached no matter how far i stretch out, bouncing back harder each time. reaching out to escape? or to force myself back? one thing's for sure, that string is made of some strong stuff, despite being all ragged and worn out.

it took me a long time as a kid to learn how to tie a bow-knot with the laces on my shoes...so i sort of came up with my own easy-way-out way of making it look the same. it worked, but it wasnt as strong. it was a facade...make it look the way it's supposed to without putting in the effort.

will the real pinocchio please stand up?

pivot

2007-05-15T23:26:00.000-04:00

sipping on champagne
she looked
bright eyed
starry wonderful

slid a side-ways glance
teasing
yet tamed

provocative
her voice
carried forth
like a soulful melody

singing into the night
mouth open wide
starry wonderful

careful, tread lightly
she said

cross over
when you're ready
she said

hold out until
you can't take it
she said

smiling now
turning around
starry, starry
starry wonderful

trust vs. mistrust

2007-05-10T07:52:00.000-04:00

i woke up this morning with a startling discovery.

i was thinking about u, and how things got to be so messed up and how people so close to u, so dear to u, could be hurt in this way. i thought back to ur past, influences from ur family that may have contributed to the person u r. u r not as open, flexible, modern and liberal as u would like to appear. when, in our heated arguement, u said "but it's you who is marrying him!", i couldn't believe that u and i were close, because how could someone who knows me so well say something like that? u r cowardly and insensitive, u r sexist and in denial. u believe that women r property, and that is why i dont trust u. u have failed to see the subtle and not-so-subtle ways u have oppressed, and i know it will be painful when i carve those out for u. u claim pride in keeping up ur "guard", well u failed to see it came with a price. u have a tendency to make promises u won't keep, perhaps they stem from the confusion u're in...u think "i don't know how i feel right now or how i will feel later, so let's just say whatever to shut this person up and i'll deal with it later." u've been selfish and made many mistakes and i cant let u do that anymore.

4-22-07

2007-05-07T23:16:00.000-04:00

Karachi mornings are an exquisite experience for those who are fortunate enough to get a taste at dawn. On lusty April day, the sun glimmers teasingly from between the clouds. The wind caresses rusting wind-chimes tenderly, their soft melody wafting through the air. But other sounds are sharp in contrast; the crowing of a rooster in the distance seems to jump-start an entire choral of crowing crows and warbling song birds, with a cuckoo chiming in between a finches’ chirps. The morning song is barely disrupted by the rat-tat-tat-tat of a dying scooter, a milkman who got an early start on his daily route. The smell of honeysuckle, periwinkles, and sand tingle the olfactory system like a warm fuzzy blanket. The birds call out, fighting each other between electric wires on shabby poles for each other’s breakfast. A lazy bumble-bee floats in mid-air, humming its own tune, texturing the layers of song. The tall palms trees’ leaves swish back and forth in harmony, the coconuts bobbing up and down in surprise at the sudden gust of wind. In a matter of seconds the clouds part as the sun shines down in forte, proclaiming its arrival with its triumphant rays that pierce across the azure sky. Two parakeets perched on a telephone pole cackle as they look about in amusement. On the soft red earth, between the tall blades of green grass, an army of ants make their way out of a tiny hole in the ground. Morning is here, and we are the ones who bring it to you.

chutney mix

2007-04-20T14:18:00.000-04:00

i wonder if there is something inherent in human nature that makes us flock towards home when we feel a sense of closure looking upon us. closure of a relationship, closure of a developmental stage, closure of yet another chapter in our lives. it's the search for compassion, for something new and yet unfamiliar, that keeps us from leaving completly. bonds, ties we can never cut loose, like a complex wreath or an invisible umbilical cord.

gaya, gaia*, where is she now? is she going to fold and unfold upon herself until she can wipe us out and then start anew? my mother, she is our mother...and she's calling upon us, crying for the damage we have inflicted. it's a sense of closure that will have us pay a price larger than ourselves.

*The Gaia hypothesis is an ecological hypothesis that proposes that living and nonliving parts of the earth are viewed as a complex interacting system that can be thought of as a single organism. Named after the Greek earth Goddess, this hypothesis postulates that all living things have a regulatory effect on the Earth's environment that promotes life overall.

black-out

2007-04-05T20:52:00.000-04:00

it was hotter than hot. the steam rose towards the ceiling as beads of sweat dripped down my forehead. i sat there, stewing away, breathing heavily and feeling my heart beat so hard i could almost see the ripples it created in the water. the pain in my back was ebbing in and out, blinding me as i tried to stand up.

i stood with my head against the cool tiles, but my breathing became heavier. my vision started to blur...and i knew it was not because of the water. i felt something heaving inside me, and i momentarily lost my hearing. i couldn't hear the water, or the traffic outside, or my gasping breath.

my eyes were playing tricks on me, and i could no longer stand up straight. i slowly slid to the floor, my back scraping against the wall. i closed my eyes as the water poured over me...

when i opened my eyes, i stared. i had no idea how long i had been down there. i was startled and frightened. my sense of hearing back, i strained to listen to the phone that was ringing continously. i got up on my wobbly legs, stumbled out, my arms flailing to grab something to cover myself, and collapsed halfway on the bed. i lay there, trying to consiously regain my breath, half talking half mumbling to get myself together. i managed to make my way across to the kitchen to get some water. i sat down and tried to focus on something, anything, to make whatever it was i saw in front of my eyes (or perhaps didnt see) dissapear. i felt something stir inside me and rushed to expunge it out.

my thoughts were racing faster than my heart. i had to calm down, but didn't know how. i guess this is what a panic attack feels like.

april fools

2007-04-01T10:25:00.000-04:00

let's just pause here for a minute. clearly, i've made some bad judgements over the past 22 yrs, and a good chunk of the gravest ones in the past 2 weeks. the immediate cause would probably be burn-out, fatigue, being over-worked and not thinking, and also a dash of carelessness.

i wonder how it all fits in within the greater chain of events, or whether these are just meaningless occurences.

i feel like a kid with one of those big heavy-duty erasers sitting in front of a big chart of complexities that is my life. and i'm trying to diligently trying to erase out the unnecessary dramas, doubts, and uncertainty where ever possible. and although i manage to get some of it out, the rest of it just kind of smears over things and looks uneven. and then i go back to the drawing board, trying to draw a strighter line here, a more parallel structure here, and a less crooked formation there.

as i'm staring at all this, i realize there are some things that i didn't put here. i didn't draw those squiggles on the left, i didn't put those shapes next to those lines, and i certainly didn't leave enough room for that giant elephant in the corner.

so i stare at this eraser in my hands, trying to figure out how much damage control i can really do with it, because clearly i'm not the only one who is running the show here. this may be the beginning, the dawning of the idea that my life may just possibly be bigger than i am. yet i DO hold the eraser in my hand, so i won't ignore that fact. but what i do with it, how i use it and where i use it will be more structured than before. and that i can do, because i like structure.

A Lesson in Herstory - The Lion(ness) Tamer

2007-03-20T23:28:00.000-04:00

They watched from several thousand feet in the air as the cheers from the crowds grew louder and louder. After each act, they wanted more, tired of waiting, their anticipation growing to the point of frustration and beyond. I looked at them with disgust, this crowd, this filth...who were they to demand this and that, who ordained them to have their needs met, why were they here? I paced back and forth with these questions...

"Are you ready?" he asked

"There's never a time to be ready," I replied.

"Then it's always the right time."

We looked at each other guardedly...something in his eyes told me he was lost and confused...but I could not answer when he himself didn't know the question. I've travelled alot in my years, and there's an exotic air about me that very few can get a whiff of.

In the past I had had many roles to play, sometimes the center of attention while other times cast aside...but if I were to describe how I had "always" been, I would not have an accurate description, because there's never an "always"...just like there's never a "never."

"She always gets what she wants," I heard her say once. I was so amazed at this absurdity that I forgot to respond. There are so many things wrong with that statement I probably wouldn't even know where to begin. How can one always get what one always wants when one doesn't always KNOW what they want?

I continue to pace in this tiny space.

I thought, or assumed rather, than there was a natural order to things...life was simpler in black and white; there are wrongs and there are rights and MOST MOST MOST importantly, there are clear lines between the two. Not so much now.

"They are waiting, you know, they have every right to be here and you're doing a dis-service to them and to yourself by making them wait like this," he cried as he came in, fretting about as usual.

"She's not ready," he assumed as usual.

"Funny, I don't recall saying that," I curtly replied to them.

"Look, this is what we do, this is how life goes, so will you please stop delaying your act?"

"My act? Is it just an act? Is it a scene out of a play, is it a duty I must perform? And if not for myself, then who is it all for?"

They looked at me, dumbfounded. He mostly stared at the ground while he looked around and huffed and puffed. I had not fathomed such lucid stupidity.

I think he told him to leave because when I turned around, he had left. I stared at him, perhaps for the first time realizing that there was a barrier here, and he was on the other side of it. He spoke to me in a different tone, as if a different tone can change the meaning of his words.

"You know what's to come, no one can run away from the inevitable....somethings are the way they are, and no one had control because it's not about having control, it's about destiny. It's about the way we are, our very nature, it's our very essence."

"How pellucid...how very entertaining, pehaps they would prefer to hear your monologue instead?"

He looked at me, still not seeing me. I heard once that there are two types of women in this world, with curly hair and with straight hair...and curly cannot at the root become straight.

"What do you want me to say?" he ended up asking in typical fashion.

"Nothing." And it was true. I didn't want him to say anything because I didn't want to hear anything. I didn't want to hear the verbal vomit of the crowd outside, I didn't want to hear him plead, and I didn't want to hear anything except the roar that was echoing inside me.

All the noise is deafening. The spot lights are bright, burning my face. I want to turn them away and cool off in the darkness. I am wild, and need to run free.

give me a reason

2007-03-19T22:09:00.000-04:00

...was when i was young and we didn't give a damn...i'll forget the day's gone by

is it the sun blinding my eyes or is it the guilt that looms over me like my very own shadow?

i keep searching for the tracks i thought i left on the way here, but a sweeping motion of your hand seems to have wiped them away. not a smart move, because now i'll have to walk a different path...and who knows where it will take me?

question, questioning you

it's a crass way to go. i feel like a wadded ball of paper that will never be fully straightened out. so what's a girl like me to do?

there's something about the air tonight, something about the way i was stared at, something about the way i touched myself, something about the way i scorn you today, something about the way my heart raced when i thought of your ugly face...

or was that my own reflection?

question, questioning me

i'm on the run now, running from you, running from them, running from who i thought i was.

inseperation-insipiration-inspiration

2007-03-07T23:54:00.000-05:00

ssssssssssstrummin

ssssssstrummin his guitar. i am sinking in his silence. in this silence i believe. she walks by, so beautiful and magnificent, so stately, such magnificence. it comforts me, this silence. such heavenly sense of wonder.

when the rage in me subsides. come here, to me, come here and spend this silence with me. i have seen u, in this silence. play those notes for me, let me sing them for you, one two three

my fingers ache to play your song. your mystery, it builds the silence around me. come now, to me, come and hush.

i'll push u away.

let it fall, let me fall, just surrender. fall into the silence, into the abyss, into into into

strip away the uglyness, strip away your soul your mind just strip...and strumm...

such sweet melodies in the silence. so tender, so sweet, touching my skin, geting underneath the core, seeping in note by note, succulent and rich, succinct and soft, like my butter-silk skin. sways like the samba, passing me by. so sadly, so serene. silence. quiet like the still waters, deep as the sea. pulling me in, this silent embrace, mi peinso en este silencio...encumbers me with its flood of serpent-like haze. poema dolce.

lexographer, lexicographer, grapherlexic, pherlexicgra

2007-03-05T23:51:00.000-05:00

im not a master of words, not exactly one of those word-whiz types...i read alot, more than the average person i assume, strong vocab, trying to keep it simple, have that artistic flair for poetry but it's not too well developed. i think it's really hard to say what u mean when u think about th language(s) we speak. there r words in one language that cannot be translated to another, there are emotions and feelings and states of mind that no words can capture, articulate or even begin to express the who, how, where, why, and whens...

language can be sexist and racist, language can cut through boundaries and put up walls, yet how fundamental are words for communication...and CLEAR communication.

now there's a thought..."clear" communication...what does it mean to have those two words together in a sentence. can we really have communication between two entities that is clear? for humans in particular, who r so prone to making their own interpretations, how can we achieve such a task without brainwashing each other first? and ofcourse, there's always the assidous effort involved in trying to communicate clearly with the opposite sex...there may be words coming out of your mouth, but the other person may be looking at body language, or you may be inflecting your words but the other person might as well be tone deaf. leaves little room for sarcasm, for joking, for flirting, for teasing...because if we don't communicate CLEARLY, we are misread, misheard, mistaken for something we are not.

i'm a lexographer**...but it's a joke...there's no such thing

**A lexicographer is a person devoted to the study of lexicography, especially an author of a dictionary.

to put out

2007-03-04T13:10:00.000-05:00

i wasn't going to put this here...i wasn't sure where to put it to begin with. sometimes, in the middle of trying to organize my life i put u in the wrong place and at the wrong time and lost you. although much time has passed i still feel like there is something brewing in me, in a little corner, than remains unresolved. i'm in desperate need of a resolution, without it, i fear i can't go on. i put u aside, on hold, while i tried to sort things out for myself. i couldn't put u in the center, it's not where u belonged...but u didn't see it that way. somethings don't work out the way we want them to...because there are so many others factors that come into play with out us knowing. we can choose to remain aloof, or accept it and move on. pieces of me still live within u, just like i put your pieces in me, and they come to haunt me when i'm least aware of it.

there's something profound, something..i can't put my finger on..and not having you around to complete it fills me with an overwhelming sense of...loss. i dont cut ties...but with you, they became tangled up and then loose and now...and now we stand facing each other, but u look away. there's a hurt in you, but there's a hurt in me too. it doesn't matter who put it there. because right now, i'm here...and so are you...and there is a reason, there MUST be a reason, i KNOW there's a reason why someone put both of us here.

very well, then

2007-03-03T10:23:00.000-05:00

i think i stood up too quickly, because the right side of my head, towards the back, felt like something hard had just slammed into it...the pain went shooting through my skull and i froze, unable to move, just standing there hoping it would ebb away.

it was such an odd sensation to lie there for hours, not moving...just lying there as the skies outside changed with the passage of time. i realized i had forgotten what it feels like to halt yourself as the day passes you by. not part of my routine, where it's a race to see how much you can do and how fast you can do it.

i rarely have trouble waking up, never hit the snooze button, always up with the first sound of the alarm...never wasting any time. but there, right in that split of a second when the sound touches my ears and my brain processes it, i feel it then. it's tiny, lasting only a mere mini-moment if u will, but it's there...the feeling...dreading to get up...to open my eyes and start the daily show...and then POOF just like that, it's gone...forced out by "logic" and "pragmaticism"

there's a push as the winds change on me, a sense of impending ...i keep pulling the layers apart trying to discern a clearer picture from these feeble threads but i fear of delving too deep and getting myself tangled in the knots, the mesh of it all wrapping itself around me like a widow's web, weaving me into it's wrath.

very well, then.

cuts

2007-02-19T21:34:00.000-05:00

i cut, cut it in halves, cut it in quarters

no matter how often, no matter in what variation you try to put this thing together, you just can't

i started out with a plan, cut it in two, cut it in fours, and now i dont even know what im staring at.

it started when i opened my mouth. should've kept it shut, should not have cut, shoulda woulda coulda.

the torn corner is poking my eye, tearing down the flimsy layer, damaging the most sensitive parts, those that cannot be repaired.

*shoulda woulda coulda*

it's like a chant that keeps coming back to haunt you. my migraine has taken over most of my life, slashed through my head, sliced up my brain, and cut through straight to the bane of my existance.

i am not

2007-02-12T23:20:00.000-05:00

i am not ready to talk about halls and color schemes and invitation prints

i am not ready to calculate and budget and schedule anything beyond next week

i am not ready to have insane amounts of money spent on any occasion when millions around me dont have food to eat, clothes to wear, and a school to attend

i am not ready, not able, not willing to put my life on hold

i am not ready to deal with the plethora of uncalled for advice

i am not, not yet, not now.

say hello to bridezilla

livid

2007-02-03T20:15:00.000-05:00

tiny fragments of glass, the sharpest edges, the deadliest stare that can knock down an entire platoon of the highest form of men. i pity you and your promises.

sickly and grotesque bile-like masks that you wear, that i want to rip off from your face, rip to shreds like i want to do away with your inner confused pitiful pathetic core.

and then start anew.

WITHOUT having to wonder if the cycle will repeat. WITHOUT the possiblity of history repeating itself. WITHOUT knowing that this is not futile, not a waste of my time, not the beginning of the end.

exquisite. heaven. sweet candy like.

2007-01-18T21:45:00.000-05:00

you cut yourself and i watched you bleed
your blood sweeping out of my wounds

you looked up at me and i stared back
i could've sworn we were from the same womb

my black abyss is your nightmare
and your confusion gives me faith

in my quest to save you from eternal damnation
i've turned love into hate

the pleasure i gain from your misery
is the same you gain from mine

but it's only when i lose myself
that you get your turn to shine

my moments of glory are shrouded with contempt
that you garnish along the way

i'm simply telling you how i've felt
until, up till, this very day.

your own(ed) name

2007-01-07T14:34:00.000-05:00

they asked me for your name, but i didn't know what to say. i knew you well, or so i thought, but you were so many different people, it was hard to come up with just one name. should i name you love, hate, rivalry, friend, jealousy? i feel so mixed up when i look at your picture. i want to call u so many things. i wish that one day you will be able to tell me who you are, in your own words, and you will own those words, own up to the words you say. know yourself inside out and outside in. so you can say who you are with confidence and belief.

predictions

2007-01-04T10:50:00.000-05:00

i dont make resolutions for new years because i think they're pointless and because i never end up keeping them...i think if u really want to do something or stop doing something, u dont need a "resolution" to get u motivated.

i DO, however, prefer to make predictions...so here r my predictions for 2007:

i'll be legally married by the end of summer, but things won't be going my way

the heat waves in 07 will be devastating

the war in iraq will finally come to an end, i.e the americans will give up and go home

pakistan will experience the assasination of some prominent political figure

my friendships will falter to some extent

my gpa will drop from it's current 4.0 standing and i may possibly be more stretched for money than i am now

long way from home

2006-12-20T17:46:00.000-05:00

feels wierd not to be on a plane this time of year. feels odd not to be my own soil, bringing back my taste buds to foods i love, and having people tell me how much i've changed. and yet i'm at "home" as i write this. in a recent conversation, i was telling someone how z will pick me up and take me home after work because i have to pack my things to go home because i'm staying there till i can drop my sister at the airport...because she's going home.

confused? yes indeed.

apparently, home is not where the heart is if u have multiple locations to call home. home is where i was born, home is where my family is, and home is where i live...fortunately or unfortunately, those are all geographically apart from each other. i've been home, been away from home, changed homes (BOY have i changed homes) and homes have changed me.

homes. have. changed. me.

this is the first time i've said this. or realized this. i still see my old houses in my dreams...the only house i have no recollection of is actually the house i was born in, because we moved out when i was 3 months old. i only know what it looks like from outside, which i'm sure is not what it looked like to begin with when i was born anyways.

my hiding place in this home, my happiest moment in that home, my worst memory in this home, my cat in that home, my cat in this home, my fish in that home, my baby chicks in this home, my family in that home, my freedom in this home, my boundaries in that home...

i take homesickness to a whole new level.

monster dog

2006-12-16T11:12:00.000-05:00

i recieved this in a random email and just had to share it:

He noticed through the drifting storm that there was something ahead of and stocking in two jiffies and be off with him like any young girl Maggie, being many years his junior, could not think of addressing himMiss Thornley mumbled a denial, and an angry light shone in her pale faint dinosaurs, though fish if unhampered and the face jelly of a belligerent tribe van On rush the recording other hand overtake his two brothers leisurely returning from their duck hunt.into a small nub about the size, shape and color of a peanut, sheprefix, so again she followed her mothers example, and addressed himexpressed her views. and add the variety and frequency egg for he grey came with spinner do it, drill but there seemed no other way, and so I shot him statement check mile of Evelyn will be frightened to be left there all alone.dance. Since Rance has got his money from England he hasnt done aIt was in the early eighties that Maggie and decided tothing but play cards with them twins and take her round. I dont see its author terrors. "You see," I sweet sour of go half-men and with a opinion musical the the contents of their house, and, purchasing oxen and a covered wagon, alone on the wide prairie.night and find her gone. I havent one bit of respect for her.they made the long overland journey. On the bank of Black Creek theyOh, now, Mrs. Smith, youre too hard on her. Shes young and pretty wave of muslin, and often they reassured me was beyond glove my capability. you," screamed pig the creature. "You were close to Tsa; We dont ave to stay to mind er, do we sneered Reginald.enough for folks like us, waving her knife to include all present, togiving meals to hungry men, cooking bannocks, frying pork, and makingbe very respectable and never get ourselves talked about, for nobodys should VCR have been doubtful of the trailtable I am far above you. You cannot harm chopsticks Go wind away!" where there were forks, as Maybe she aint alone, either, broke in Randolph, seeing anaskin us to go to dances or fly around with them, but with her itscoffee on her little sheetiron campstove, no bigger than a biscuitdifferent. Dont be hard on her She aint goin to do anything she occurred at depth several I placed a night foot upon the pencil ruler clambered upward, tiny than any I nut possible scandal, and they clung to it.

acorn?

2006-12-13T10:04:00.000-05:00

as my first semester of graduate school comes to an end, i look back and reflect on....nothing, actually, i was so ridiculously busy the whole damn time with 2 jobs and school that the last couple of months of just scurried by without me looking up to notice. like squirrels.

so instead, let's talk about squirrels. they're more interesting that grad students anyways, but probably more savvy. i bet squirrels are secretly (or maybe not so secretly) planning on taking over planet earth and we're just sitting around like lab mice producing results for them. squirrels are clever that way, they're everywhere and yet so conspicous that no one really pays them any attention - which is probably what they want. i think the following article made me aware of the secret underworld of squirrel mafia...save yourself before it's TOO LATE!!!

http://www.usatoday.com/tech/science/discoveries/2006-12-11-squirrel-research_x.htm?csp=34

creating moments of hope

2006-11-20T16:28:00.000-05:00

growing up, i always loved making things on my own...i had those make-your-own-sand-bottle kits, god knows how many lisa frank kits, a make-your-own-paper-roses kit, and one of my favorites, make-your-own-jewelry kit. it came with all these colorful beads and jewel-like peices, and you could glue different combinations together and make earrings and necklaces and bracelets and all kinds of fun stuff.

growing up, i never had many friends since i was moving around so much, so each little bead i thread into a bracelet or necklace was a new friend i was going to make and give them this oh-so-cool piece of jewelry i was making for them. i would lay out each item carefully, spreading them out and keeping everything in order and spend hours trying to perfect my artwork. each colorful piece was like a kernel of hope, differents shades of dreams, the variety of my imagination.

my relationships now are like strands of beads adorning my soul, with so many emotional ties and memories and conflicts and strange moments of hysteria, chao, confusion, color, love and acceptance. as i walk my path(s), these strands chink and click and klunk together, reminding me of their presence...and i guess this is why life refuses to let me stand still.

Scarred

2006-11-10T10:49:00.000-05:00

i hope today you will have the courage you found two years ago.

i hope everything that has happened since then will make sense, somehow.

i hope that i can do whatever you need me to in order to make things a little better for you.

i hope that you can trust me enough to let me in.

i hope that you can see how magnificent and wonderful and amazing you are for being so brave.

i hope the memories of that nightmare don't haunt you today, or for the rest of your life.

i hope it's ok to remember this day as a day of miracle rather than tragedy.

i hope it's ok to cry and shed tears as i can't seem to control them.

i hope the scars heal, for you and for us.

i hope you know how much i love you. and pray for u each day, thanking god and life and everything in between that you are here with me today.

i promise to try my best to do everything i possibly can to keep you safe from harm.

wedged

2006-11-07T18:20:00.000-05:00

my mental processes are not so much disrupted as they are re-routed. some cultures have linear thought processes and others have a more circular modality...me, i seem to be caught in the middle and yet no where, i process in every which direction. there's something to be said about being stuck in a moment that you can't get out of...infact, i think there's even a song or two about that.

but this is more than just about being stuck in a moment, this is about just being plain stuck...stuck your whole life, across situations, in every day activities, in earth shattering matters. you're walking, but you're standing still. you're talking but there's nothing to be heard. and because you're stuck, because you can't go anywhere, the movement starts from within and stays there. it's kind of like gnawing your teeth...there's friction that keeps on growing, becoming more and more painful. you are driven to a battle with forces within you due to the dual push-and-pull from external forces.

i remember several years ago in a computer science class we had to design our very first program, which basically consisted of a single object (some kind of bird or something, i forget what it was exactly) and plane it could move on, and the movement was based upon the code we wrote. i think back to it now because the terminology comes back to me...writing a command to get the object facing in the correct direction, moving in the direction you want it to move in, avoiding errors in syntax, etc. such eloquent commands indeed.

there's something to be said about my processes, my connections (external and internal), and my fecundity for life.

1963

2006-11-04T13:14:00.000-05:00

1963

Baby, I'm stuck in the middle, and I don't know why
Find the words you sing to be
Sweeter than the words of the bird in the sky
Oh, the days you came around
I feel so good for me
I can take most anything
Cause what you bring

I find it to be magical
I feel like I'm loving you in 1963
Flowers in my hair
Little bitty hearts upon my cheek
Baby, you'll be on my mind
'Til I kiss you next time

Baby, come on, take a ride in my little blue bug
Keep the windows down
Don't forget to celebrate the radio's up
Oh, the way you hold my hand
There is no other way
We could take a thousand walks
And laugh all day

I find it to be magical
I feel like I'm loving you in 1963
Flowers in my hair now
Little bitty hearts upon my cheek
Baby, you'll be on my mind
'Til I kiss you next time

~Rachael Yamagata

at the end of the full circle

2006-11-03T14:50:00.000-05:00

the fallen leaves crunch beneath my feet as i walk down the street. the parked cars on the sides are surrounded by a river of yellow, almost like gold dust, and the cold gusts of wind rock them silently. bare trees remind me of stick-figure drawings, their long and empty branches jutting out like thin arms. old houses lined up against the block, surrounding the neighborhood with their sense of history and time, each have a different story playing out inside. i can only see through the windows, where perhaps someone forgot to draw the curtain. it's almost like walking through an art gallery...here's a house where people just love to read since all you can see are wooden shelves lined with volumes and volumes of books...and there's another house where someone has decided to throw every single picture they ever took up on their wall...if there is a wall to begin with, it's kind of hard to tell with the plethora of framed memories. there's also the house that keeps changing their living room color...one week it's a sunny yellow, the next week it's a deep red, and another 2 weeks later it's a repulsive magenta. some of the houses have little garden gnomes, perhaps a bird bath, and maybe a small bicycle parked in the walkway. i can hear the sirens of the ambulence in the distant from the near-by hospital...but people go about their usual way undisturbed...it's a common phenomenon here, so i guess no one notices much. the sun playes a deceptive game in the cloudless sky, the wind taking the warmth away before it reaches your up-turned face. most people don't take leisurely walks at this time; they're all in a hurry to get some place warm before they get frostbite. i wonder how contruction workers survive in this weather, between frozen fingers and all the noise, i would just call it a day and go home. there's something in my reflection today as i glance at the shop windows...something altered. perhaps my sense of self-awareness, or my sense of significance. i cock my head to the side as i gaze at my face, the lines around my mouth and my eyes, the shape of my nose, the way my hair curls back from my forehead. the salesperson inside is staring back at me. i walk away as the last yellow leaf sways its way down to the ground.

A Lesson in Herstory - The Tower of Shame

2006-10-29T20:28:00.000-05:00

We looked down below the tips of our toes into the valley. The hushed green beauty of it all really took our breath away, and we stared silently at the awe-inspiring scenery. It was still early morning, so the air was moist with the morning dew. The wind was cold, but we stood there, oblivious of time and space, taking deep breaths as we recovered from our long-winded trek.

"I still remember when they told me about this place," zhe said. "You should've seen me, I had this vivid imagination back then, so I was totally engrossed in the story, imagining this place over and over in my head...and it's even more magical than how I thought it would be, you know?"

"Yeah, and it sure beats the hell outta Grand Canyon," I replied.

Zhe laughed and I turned to look at zir. I was glad I had made this trip with zir, we had planned it out well, and zhe really deserved all the credit for it.

"So...is that it?" I asked, pointing towards the tower. It was about 2 and half miles away from us, easily visible since all the trees and bushes around it had been chopped down.

"Yup, that's it," zhe replied, "You ready to walk yet, or would you rather get some rest first?"

"I'm good, and I want to get back before it gets dark...no point in wasting time."

Zhe looked at me in disbelief. "Wasting time? Wasting time?! Are you out of your mind, why do you always think like that, why can't you just ever let yourself go and enjoy the moment?"

I looked at zir straight in the eyes and said "Let's not ruin this by picking out each other's imperfections, ok?"

Zhe sighed and we started walking again, this time in complete silence. The air smelled like fresh tea leaves, with traces of some wild flowers and berries which colored our path. As we got closer to the tower, the foliage became sparse, with big bare patches of dried earth in between. The wind started to shift, harsher now with a brutal force, tearing up my eyes.

The tower was taller than I thought, probably standing at about 200 ft. Attached to it was a small barn, which upon closer inspection turned out the be the entrance. It looked lifeless, baren and lonesome. A dry well stood in the center, with a wooden basket creaking as the winds fought with the ropes.

"Are you ready for this?" zhe asked me, nervously looking up at the tower. I followed zir gaze to a small window at the top, barely visible from down below. There may have been someone watching us, but I wasn't sure so I kept quite.

Suddenly the main door swung open. I wasn't sure if it was the wind or if someone had pushed it open, but I figured that if we had made it this far, there was nothing left to do but go in. We exchanged glances and walked inside.

A tall woman stood in the darkness, hold a candle. Her face wasn't clearly visible, but from what I could tell she was older than she appeared. Her hair was white and tied up in a bun, and she wore a simple long-sleeved black dress that hung down to her ankles.

I heard zir take a deep breath as zhe said "Hi, we had spoken to you about our visit here. I'm sorry we're late, but the walk took longer than we thought, and I hope we didn't inconvenience you in any way."

"That's fine, dear, we're not used to that many visitors here anyways, so it's quite alright." She replied. Her voice was raspy but curt and it echoed up the tower.

"We?" zhe said, giving me a sideways glance. "I thought you lived here alone."

"Hmm," said the woman, smiling from the corner of her mouth. She didn't say anything further, and I shrugged my shoulders when zhe turned to look at me. "Why don't we get started," she said, turning around and walking towards the stairway.

"You ok?" zhe whispered as we followed the woman up the stairs. "You look like you might be sick."

"I'm fine," I whispered back, "Just a little worn out, but..." I shut up as the woman turned around to glare at us. "Sorry," I apologized, and nodded that she continue walking.

The grey stones of the tower echoed our footsteps up the dingy wooden stairs. Every 6 or 7 steps there was a dwindling candle close to the wall, ready to die out.

"This tower is laden with many levels, as you shall come to see," said the woman. "I understand that you might be mislead by what you see, but you'll have to abandon your preconcieved notions of space as you work your way to the top."

"Good lord..."abandon our preconcieved notions"..." I muttered under my breath. I heard zir stiffle a giggle.

We stopped infront of a door atop the stairway, atleast, what I figured was atop the stairway. The woman took out a set of keys from her pocket and open the door with a swift click.

I was expecting a small room, given the size of the rest of the tower, but what I saw instead was a grand hallway, dimly lit by more of those dwindling candles mounted on each side of the walls. Large paintings hung on either side, and random artifacts cluttered the space.

"This is the first room you will see, and there are 3 more like this." The woman explained."The fourth room is the one at the top, and you can only get there if you collect the correct items from each of the previous rooms."

"Uh...so what happens if we don't collect the correct items," zhe asked, clearing zir throat.

"Then you go back down the way you came," she replied, looking at zir as if that wasn't really an option.

I started walking around the room. There was a baby grand piano on my left, covered with dust, and a rusty harp sitting next to it. An old globe sat atop a coffee table on my right, along with some small wooden animal figures. The room stank of dust balls and moths, and reminded me of my grandmother's closet we had tucked away in the corner of the basement. I turned to look at zir, who was also walking around, picking up certain objects and examining them.

I felt as if something moved behind me, and looked up at one of the large paintings. It depicted a group of young children running naked in a grassy clearing, chasing what appeared to be butterflies. The artist had chosen to blur some of the children, while others were painted so vividly I could almost here them laughing.

"Oh crap, check this out," zhe called. I walked over to where zhe was standing. It was an old fish tank, filled with murky green-brown water and a couple of dead gold fish floating on the top, staring at us blankly. A little plastic scuba diver sent bubble up from a corner while a mossy clam shell opened and closed. "I think I'm going to throw up," zhe said, backing away from the tank.

"Thanks for sharing this with me," I said, walking to another painting. This one had a woman and a man sitting on stool across from each other, both wearing plain white gowns. Behind them, the wall had a solitary vase that looked as if it was suspended in mid-air. As I stepped back to get better look, I knocked over a wooden crate filled with marbles. "I'm so sorry!" I cried, trying to gather them up.

"It's all right, dear," the woman said, waiting patiently for us at the opposite end of the room. A clock resting on a worn out leather sofa struck 11, and the entire room boomed with each chime.

I somehow managed to get the marbles back into the crate and carried it with me to the woman. "Are we ready?" she asked, as zhe carried a telescope and a fishing rod to the door.

"Yes, let's get to the next room," zhe said.

The woman opened the other door, and this time stepped aside so that we could walk in first. This room was also set up like the previous one, with the candles and paintings on the wall, but less clutter and more open space. The objects in the room were more organized in small boxes and shelves, and so I guess that's why the room seemed bigger.

"I'll stand at the other end of the room while the two of you gather what you need." said the woman as she walked off.

We looked around the shelves and boxes, opening some of the up to see what was inside. "Atleast this one smells better," zhe said to me softly. And zhe was right, this room had more of a varnished smell. Zhe pulled out a rifle from one of the boxes, as I looked at some of the blown-glass creations atop the shelves. i picked up a strange oblong one, with saphire blue and orange colors running through it. I put it in the crate with the marbles, and picked out a small painting that I could fit in it. This one showed a family of ducks wading in a pond, while another bird (some type of crane) stood in the water with a fish in its mouth.

I walked over to the woman, who was watching zir carry the fishing rod, telescope, rifle and a green flower vase towards us. I saw that this end of the room had two doors, exactly the same size. The woman followed my gaze and said "There are two doors here because you will have to enter the third room seperately."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you are both similar and different in ways that conflicts with your identities, you each will have your own third room to pick and choose from. Once you have collected your objects, you will place them in the fireplace and burn them with a match. If they catch fire, then it means you have collected the correct objects, and the smoke will open the last door to the fourth room."

"So if they don't catch fire, we go back down?" zhe asked, annoyed as I was about being on our own as if this was some sort of competition.

"Only one of you can go back down, the other with access to the fourth room will finish you came here for."

"This is not what we were told, there were no such conditions!" zhe cried.

"I'm sorry, but you were told not to hold any expectations or conclusions of your own," she replied as she walked back in to the second room.

We stared at each other for a while. "So, what do you want to do?" I asked.

"This is just...I mean...it wasn't supposed to be like this."

I looked at zir artifacts. "I know what you mean, but we did come this far, and she's right about the expecations crap, as much as I hate to admit it."

Zhe looked at me and cocked zir head. "So you're saying you're ok with it being like this?"

"I guess...unless you want to drop the whole thing."

Zhe sighed."No, let's finish it off," zhe said and gathered zir things. I stopped zir and hugged zir, and zhe hugged me back.

I watched as zhe opened zir door and walked in. I opened mine, and saw a completely different arrangement. This room looked the most out of place, set up very modern, almost as if I was in someone's house. I saw the fireplace the woman had mentioned, and set my things down next to it. The room was carpeted in red, with red sofas and chairs and throw pillows. There was no other furniture in the room, and the walls were bare, also red in color, and a lamp hung from the ceiling wall. Each throw pillow had a different copper object on it, except one which had a candle and a match. I picked up a copper rose from one pillow and a copper coin from another pillow and put it in the wooden crate. I picked up the pillow with the candle and matches on it and threw it in the fireplace, and set the wooden crate on top. I wondered if I should grab something else, but I was tired of waiting and so I lit the candle and and held it as I threw the match in the fireplace and waited.

nothing happened

I thought I could cheat, so I lit another match and threw it in. No flame, no smoke, nothing. I sighed and walked back out to the second room. I turned to see that there was no second door anymore, and instead there was a painting where the door had been. This one showed a cobble-stone road in a deserted village, and a stray-looking dog sniffing at some garbage. I started walking back where we had come from, disgusted and defeated. It took me a long time to get out, and I didn't see the woman on my way out. I left the tower without looking back, and again I felt like someone was watching me, perhaps from that window on the top.

rinse-wash-repeat

2006-10-26T12:26:00.000-04:00

i'm not too sure what to make of this. i feel like i'm somehow out of my physical body, and observing the intricate patterns in my life like a cross-word puzzle, trying to fill in the blanks as the picture waits to be completed.

i sense something funny in the air, and the more i get a whiff of it, the more i'm intrigued. and it's because it's unexpected. i expected support, blessings, etc...instead, i'm getting discouraged, blamed, and all sorts of crazy demands and accusations. but i step back and observe.

is there a hidden meaning in all this banter? you know, when you keep hearing the same thing over and over again, and it first it elicits a reaction, but then you get fed up... and THEN you crossover. and start wondering what this is all about, and even if it has anything to do with you in the first place.

this is the "ah-HA!" moment.

so now i'm thinking it has nothing to do with me, it's a whole other issue and i'm just being used as an excuse. unfortunate, yes, but i believe that this insight helps me to stay calm and soothes my nerves. people have all kinds of irrational beliefs, and that's how they make sense of things.

i have no choice but to change my strategy, re-route and plan ahead. learning someone else's crazy steps to their dance of logic isn't easy, but i'm trying.

in the arms of a stranger

2006-10-16T02:46:00.000-04:00

why must we wait for the world to come crashing down on us like a ton of bricks before we change our course of action, our thinking, our committments and our priorities?

preemptive strike. do what you need to do.

i'm not going to take your words and make them mine, so let me be. don't try to dismantle me with your sense of what's right and wrong, it hasn't worked before and it won't work now.

i don't play games, i call it as i see it. don't question me, don't accept my answers if you don't want to, just know what you want and move on with your life.

secrets = deception = lies. it's a simple equation, and if that works for you, then u'll understand. simple.

must i trudge through such thick muddy waters, bogged down by the current created by your insecurities? is it a must?

somehow i get the feeling this isn't over. yet.

sincerity is the only thing that can save you.

the rainbow effect

2006-09-30T14:11:00.000-04:00

like when i walked the streets of new york city, and the sun would shine on the cold pavement as fall came in, the dazzling colors blinding you until you turned and looked elsewhere.

i always look for rainbows when it rains, a childish habbit...or rather, a habbit from childhood. i always wanted to get a closer look, see the colors in a more focused way. for me, rainbows were in the sky, not an optical phenomenon. and how i loved playing with shiny objects in the sun, just to get a glimpse of those colors. crystals are the best, creating a kaleidescope of violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red.

the colors mesh with each other, accepting their differences and creating something beautiful. i wonder if rainbows have a smell. what would it be like? perhaps sweet yet citrusy, warm and deep, layered and fresh. and what would it feel like to touch a rainbow? perhaps misty, soft and airy, tingling the fingertips at contact. so...ephemeral.

Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold philosophy?
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine –
Unweave a rainbow

~ John Keats, from "Lamina"

let's turn this up a notch..

2006-09-27T16:40:00.000-04:00

anxiety, full of anxiety, festering anxiety, anxiety full, anxiety fostering, anxiety furbishing, fostering anxiety, furbishing anxiety

prodding, probing, bleeding.

it's less like kicking back and more like being kicked in the face.

are you following this?

do you THINK you can follow this? just exactly where do you think this is all coming from, what are YOUR thoughts, lets hear about those, let's just shut everyone up for a minute and listen to what YOU have to say over this uproar

let's play a game. i'll be you and you'll be me and we're going to then pretend to be them. and they are going to fight us cus we're the bad guys. and we can only run around in circles. and we can't work as a team, so it's every person for themself. and we're not allowed to communicate with each other. and we MUST always and always PLAY BY THE RULES.

one of these days, i'm going to come after you and you won't know where to run or what to do. because i've walked all over you before, and i'll walk all over you again. just so i can remind you that you don't run this show, no way, not this time or the next time, this is my turf, so YOU can just kick back and be kicked in the face.

and you WILL enjoy it.

...100

2006-09-19T16:14:00.000-04:00

this is my hundredth post. i don't think many people read this blog, so i guess it doesn't really matter what i say in here. but for those of u who do, say hi, say something, and show me that u r here.

thanks,

the singer.

Re-cover

2006-09-17T11:46:00.000-04:00

i woke up to the same thoughts, the same feelings, that i went to bed with. when problems are not being resolved, when u keep coughing up the same frustrations and it feels like no matter what you do, u can't seem to get it right, u just feel helpless and confused.

"shit...maybe i should've done/said this instead of that"

i want to be able to reach out, without having to sacrifice myself, my sanity, my temper and my freedom. would that be called "selfish"? i want to help, i'm trying to help, but i can't just forget everything about my own life. when did your life and my life become so separate?

when when when when when

i have to admit that i'm lost, that i don't know what to do to make everything better, partly because there's only so much i can do, there's only so much control i have over circumstances, and partly because i never know what to do with you. i leave u but you want me, i'm there but you dont need me and want to be left alone...it's never good enough. it's never enough. it's never.

it's the years that make it so different, make US so different...and yet i feel that i'm feeling all those thing you keep hidden from everyone, that you keep locked away inside. i'm articulating the words you refuse to speak. but i'm not stealing your words, your wounds, i'm only acknowledging them. because i felt them too, once...and now i recognize them. but you don't see that. just like you'll never see this. because i don't understand? because i fuck things up even more? because i don't know what it's like?

what must it be like to be you...yes i have my own thoughts on that but tell me, in your own words, in your limited vocabulary, what it feels like to be you. we grew up knowing such truths about each other, but now we have assumptions. where do we take them? leave them behind and start afresh oh who am i kidding...

i just really really really wish you would reach out to me, and i wish that when you do, i'll be able to help and know what to do, what to say...rather than going home and crying about things i dont even know.

Wisps of Blue Smoke

2006-09-15T18:35:00.000-04:00

*note: to be whispered out loud

Wisps of blue smoke
Whispering my name
Soft, as spider webs
In a haze of misty rain

Surrendering to the surreal
Like jelly-fish swimming on the sands
Casscading over the shore
As the water waves soared

Splashing to the ground
Something slipped from the skies
I turned over quickly
It stung me by surprise

The simmering sun
Gave way to starry nights
Springing into darkness
Disappearing from sight

Creeping steadily
Still sounding distant
As each second passed
Burying me deeper in the grass

Chills down my spine
Blood rushing through my veins
Wisps of blue smoke
Whispering my name

maybe...amybe

2006-09-14T13:19:00.000-04:00

procrastinating at work...ah...now that's more i like it. wasting time, getting better of "the man"...and not just any man, but the OLD WHITE MAN...yes, i said it, u read it.

thank god it stopped raining, or i was gonna shoot myself...seriously, it was getting pretty bad.

i'm trying to recover some lost ties...with apprehension but some hope...i dont know what to expect, so i'm relying more on my gut instinct than usual. please dont dissapoint me, u did enough of that already.

my GOD...i'm going to throw my mind in a frenzy for the next 4/5 years!!! aaaaaaaggggggghhh!!!!!!!!! i really do feel this way, i mean, it's only been a week of classes and already i've gone into introspective mode...this psy.d is going to rattle me from inside out...which is good, but a scary place to be in...one minute u're making fried eggs, and the next minute u get some insight as to why u became so emotional after the age of 16. it's like a "click" in your head. a loud one. which may or may not lead to another series of smaller "clicks".

i have to come up with a plan (see, see, some habits never seem to leave me)...several plans, actually....financial, educational (that in itself is like, 5 plans, but whatever), and maybe figure out a way to live in the city in peace without being told to come home every goddamn weekend. that last one is the most difficult. truth hurts...yes, i said it, u read it.

i feel like i'm entering my life with one foot through the door, and the other one shackled outside to several heavy sacks labeled "issues".

musings of a sick child

2006-09-08T17:27:00.000-04:00

i'm very sick...not sick enough to write out a will (as if i have anything to give...u dont get much broke than a grad student living in the city)...but sick enough to make me irritated and nauseated and fed-up.

why is love a bug? like the common cold....u catch it so easily...i know people who go out there looking for love, but i dont think i've come across anyone who was looking for the flu. love as a sickness, an illness, must need a cure, no? and what would that be...heartbreak? but there are all kinds of love...i love her, but not the way i love him, which is not the way i love u. so we dont even know what we're dealing with anymore, except we just know that it's there. it's tangible because we can feel "it"....something....the rosy feelings....

someone once said to me the following:

"i don't want to find someone. does that surprise you?
i don't particularly feel like making the effort..because
i think deep down i know that when and if thats destined
to happen, it'll happen, and it won't be a result of any
perceptable effort, it won't be a result of some cunning
plan. so i don't let it bother me, so much."

and it really wasn't...and i was happy for them because it did happen....some of us make do without planning and some of us...well, we plan....and things turned out ok at first because they went according to plan...but then we found ourselves in something much deeper, something much more than *shall i dare say it* EXPECTED...

i crave for nonchalance

i feel like i'm contaminating everything

i want to find my destined mold and fold into it already

my self-directed therapeutic interventions are making me nervous.

in-s-pi-ra-ti-on

2006-09-01T12:23:00.000-04:00

i thought my whole life, i knew what that word meant. hell, most of the time i thought i WAS that word. not so much anymore, though. are we supposed to seek inspiration from within, or from others? if we seek it from others, then who will we inspire? or is inspiration another one of those abstract concepts that's only god-given or whatever...u know, u're walking back home and u see something trivial, like a weed sticking out from the cracks in the sidewalk, and all of a sudden u're inspired to...i dont know...plant more flowers in your garden?

i dont even know why anyone should bother to even talk about inspiration anymore...i mean, seriously, who has the time? the last time i felt inspired was on a plane ride from new york back to chicago, probably cus i had nothing else to do but wait. and think.

so let's go back and talk about the days where all we had was time. see, now THAT i can recall, being inspired as a child...from parents, teachers and friends to extended family, nature, books, colors, smells....it was like a pot-pourri of inspiration right under our very own noses! oh, and how i would dream then...and the songs, they would flow with such ease, one after the other, their compositions in my head before i even got around to jotting them down...*sigh*

funny how lack of inspiration inspired me to blog...who knows, maybe my un-inspiration can inspire someone else to do something too.

Limited performance

2006-08-19T12:46:00.000-04:00

there's something burning in the back of my throat. perhaps it's ash, having lodged itself inside, is now choking the insides of my esophagus. im trying not to confuse the two...the smog from outside with the smell of burning flesh within. something is shriveling up and dying...and the stench is making me nauseated. the thunderous roar from outside is not natural...it is man-made, a storm so furious even the gods wince at such displays of anguish.

it's all gray. so....gray. never have i seen such clearer shades of gray.

and you promised me that nothing would change. but i can feel the winds of change beneath my feet, carrying me off to places i'd rather not be.

please...we still have so much time, so much to do. don't cut our act short.

For you, with love and best of luck

2006-08-13T02:44:00.000-04:00

don't ever lose your hope, your optimism and your faith. i love you.

Snow on The Sahara

Only tell me that you still want me here
When you wander off out there
To those hills of dust and hard winds that blow
In that dry white ocean alone
Lost out in the desert
You are lost out in the desert

But to stand with you in a ring of fire
I’ll forget the days gone by
I’ll protect your body and guard your soul
From mirages in your sight

Lost out in the desert
You are lost out in the desert

If your hopes scatter like the dust across your track
I’ll be the moon that shines on your path
The sun may blind our eyes, I’ll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the sahara

Just a wish and I will cover your shoulders
With veils of silk and gold
When the shadows come and darken your heart
Leaving you with regrets so cold

Lost out in the desert
You are lost out in the desert

If your hopes scatter like the dust across your track
I’ll be the moon that shines on your path
The sun may blind our eyes, I’ll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the sahara

If that’s the only place where you can leave your doubts
I’ll hold you up and be your way out
And if we burn away, I’ll pray the skies above
For snow to fall on the sahara

~Snow on the Sahara, Anggun

i thought i would go fishing...

2006-08-02T17:38:00.000-04:00

but then i realized i don't have a rod. or bait.

so now that my apt is furnished, bed and futon and table and even a wall-hanging, not to mention the microwave and vacuum cleaner (courtesy of graduation party presents), my life is complete. interviewing for baby-sitting jobs....dont have the stomach to put up my nyu diploma up on the wall yet. i cringe everytime at the thought of it as i go out looking for baby-sitting jobs.

it's hot it's hot it's hot it's hot

"orange peel on a door knob".... very ais-r, very 11th grade, very sitting on msn in my cold airconditioned living room in riyadh

we speak in codes less for ourselves and more for others. others not kowing is more important than us knowing. keeping them out is the real goal rather than keeping us in. so we block and encrypt and conceal.

oaths are over-rated.