The life dilemma

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There’s a conundrum concocting in the cauldron,

It’s the most real and visceral recipe known to man.

It makes takes life and supercharges it,

Gives it an overdose of steroids,

Rocket boosters even.

Nothing on earth makes you feel more alive than death.

Perhaps why the Prophet reminded us to make much remembrance of the destroyer of pleasures.

That conundrum brews a mighty stew,

Burns the belly of the beast,

But it’s hard to digest.

On writing.

50

Franz Kafka said to his adoring Fiance

You once said that you would like to sit beside me while I write. Listen, in that case I could not write at all. For writing means revealing oneself to excess; that utmost of self-revelation and surrender, in which a human being, when involved with others, would feel he was losing himself, and from which, therefore, he will always shrink as long as he is in his right mind. That is why one can never be alone enough when one writes, why there can never be enough silence around one when one writes, why even night is not night enough.

Yes, this true! I agree wholeheartedly with him. Any writer that needs an audience to complete his work is a show pony, not a stallion of the desert of words.

Why didn’t you

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Photo Credit: http://karezoid.deviantart.com/

 

Why didn’t You create me deaf so I would not hear Your calling?

Why didn’t You create me blind so that I would not see Your blessings?

Why didn’t You create me without a nose so when I pass through Your fields I could not smell the blossoms?

Why didn’t You create me without hands so I could not help others?

Why didn’t You create me without feet so I could not traverse Your land?

Why didn’t You create me without senses so I couldn’t taste Your honey?

Say the ignorant, say the ingrates, say the deniers.

Had You not created me with anything other than one sense or limb alone,

The sole purpose would be so that I may use it to find You.

-ME

Rumble

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What is that?
That rumble that I hear inside is not hunger for food.
Fear fighting courage, courage fighting fear and being nothing more than a powerless spectator.
The unfamiliar feeling of being out of control.
God letting me know who’s boss.
Forgive me for my ego.
I’m just getting older,
I’m just growing up.
That rumble is hunger for You.
-ME

Terrorists or fashionistas?

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Photo credit : http://briedisk.com

Once upon a time,  say 5 years ago, if you sported this beard, you were a terrorist, harassed at work, made fun of in the street and automatically stereotyped.
Nowadays, even the least hetro of males sport them for fashion. Add some tats, some clever photography and you’re a model.
Sorry guys, you guys ain’t got shit on Muslims who’ve worn them casually and with conviction for 1450 years and are the most widely regarded beard wearers of all time.

Noise Fein

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Image credit: Flickr/Photo Monkey

 

When the noise becomes too much

Come with me and I’ll show you how to walk amongst the tombstones of silence.

I’ll guide you through the mist of unfamiliarity

As you struggle to recognise your inner most thoughts

Not by chance is your soul a corpse

By your own hand you bludgeoned it

As you feined for noise.

-ME

How Bad

How bad

How badly do you want the war to stop?
Will you fight for it?

How badly do you want to eradicate hunger and poverty?
Will you starve for it?

How badly do you want to stop sex abuse?
Will you lower your gaze around the opposite sex?

How badly do you want your children to be educated?
Will you pick up a book?

How badly you want  anything depends on the measures you will take to achieve it.

Comfort and achievement cannot marry except at the end of the journey.

Whomsoever seeks them at the beginning of the journey is doomed to be severed from both.

-ME