I should've known, how sweet to own
The fruit of idleness, will lead to a fall
For empty tomes, writ in my home
Days in alone, will ache for a soul

I should've known, when it has grown
The point of illness, the need to wall
For empty tomes, writ in my home
Where I disown, mirth to woe

-----

something i wrote a while back.. I kinda started feeling this way again.. being empty and alone

it'll pass..

I was also affected by Poe a lil' bit.. been reading his poetry..
-----

"You hate him, don’t you?"
"Nah. Just generally despise him."
"…"
"…"
"But it's pretty much the same thing."
"…No. Hate is…You know, hate is like love. Love makes people, do things out of character, it's like, like, euphoria. I don't believe just anyone has met hate before, you know? Dislike, yes, that is common, makes you bias, know what I mean? But hate. No, it's a different story, it takes a lot to hate. It's just an easy word on the lips."
"So despise, huh?"
"Yeah, worthless."
"Blows over?"
"Sure, time's a doll when it comes to scar tissue, will leave a lil' mark, but you learn."
"Wish I could say the same."
"Go ahead, saying's for free. Lie to yourself. You'll believe it in a while."
"They tell you to be honest, most importantly to yourself…"
"In nursery rhymes? They also tell you the war on terrorism, for some, is not a campaign to dominate the world. See? It's real easy, fill your head with a few fables and you'll eat up your own words… Just a couple of cows flying over the moon."
"Thought and emotion, separate elements, I say then I feel the contrary."
"Emotion's in your mind, you know. I think, therefore I am. Isn't that what he said? Anyway, they throw around the word casualties like they're some spare parts that exhausted their pipelines…"
"Who?" exasperatingly.
"Campaign fuckers."
"Do you hate them?" playfully.
"Not really. Though, I would if I was the one dying for no goddamn reason. But they believe in "fight fire with fire". I'm starting to miss Saddam. You know what's funny?"
"what?" plainly.
"nothing." Simply.
"what?" confusingly.
"That's it, nothing. Nothing's funny. It's hilariously unfunny. It's amusingly grim. It's beautifully corrupted. Just put any two opposite words and you'll describe the world."
"I feel like I'm talking to Lewis Caroll."
"who?"
"Never mind. So did you see the winter sale.."
……


no point. imaginary conversation.

I'm starting to denounce that concept. That idea that people die for. It's not religion or nationality or culture or ethnicity. It's loyalty. How I'm starting to hate it. People categorize themselves and then turn around, and complain that others stereotype them. If you insist on being so anal retentive, then it's only natural that you will be labeled. I've always been disloyal, disconnected, not proudly so. I never felt that I loved my school or my house or my country. I loved "people". I've been loyal to "people". Certain people. I don't remember God asking me where you wish to be born. But I do have a choice today to seek the culture that I want to be affected by. If I work and do good for the sake of doing good. I'm being a Samaritan on basis of developing the terrain that I'm breathing in. if I chose to learn from its history. I'm building up my experience by vicariously living on others' actions. People really believe themselves. They expect to have peace, and still call themselves "American, and still call themselves "German", and still call themselves "Arabs".

By my belief, we all come from one womb.

It's my fault. I'm sorry. When a war comes. I'll be the first one to kiss ass.

New account for my literary submissions. [link]

Will be submitting my old stuff + future writings..

plz watch that account as well..

Life is short. Learn to live it. And live it with virtue.

A close friend of mine's father died. I wrote this poem. Wondering if i cried when someone close to me dies..

a week after i wrote it. A friend of mine died...my question was answered...

A funeral:

I can't be involved in a crowd of people
The murder of crow.
Feeding on the sorrow.
I'd surely hate what I can't express
I'd surely hate the faked remorse
I don't have tears for the dead
I don't have tears for the living
Selfish, but unpretentious

My Higher Ego would give me conscience
And It dissolves my conceptions
Leaving me to bite my nails
Leaving me hating
Leaving me in shame

The real funeral is the one that walks into the mourning hearts of loved ones.


My question was answered. I can't believe he's gone. Sherif...is gone...he's...gone...

allah yer7amak ye sherif. We all loved you so much. Ya gam3a el moslemeen out there plz pray for him...

he was so young..

Rest In Peace