If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom?
-Khalil Gibran
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Paper Cup
Write your life story on a paper cup.
Just to waste the ink left in the already drained out pen.
Like the drops of dried up attachment I have left within my fingertips
My passion is disappearing.
Just to waste the ink left in the already drained out pen.
Like the drops of dried up attachment I have left within my fingertips
My passion is disappearing.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Sovereignty
Ancestors of men claimed lands. Yet the lands existed before men. And in some circumstances, men made a declaration of possession on the 'already' inhabited lands. Lines of boundaries continue to be drawn and redrawn. Personalized with names, symbols, identity. Personified with characteristics reflective of its inhabitants.
The irony is, men continue to create boundaries after boundaries, while at the same time, they will seek freedom under the jurisdiction of sovereignty. Freedom, that is the immaterial. Sought from the possession of land, the material.
No, I am no anarchist. But the cycle of civilization and nature of humanity have submitted my thoughts to the overused statement of 'history repeating itself'.
No, I am no anarchist. But the cycle of civilization and nature of humanity have submitted my thoughts to the overused statement of 'history repeating itself'.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Of dreams & ten minutes
Every morning, my alarm would ring exactly an hour and fifteen minutes before I start work. I'd hit the snooze button TWICE just to experience the momentary gratification of having the extra TEN minutes.
As very well portrayed in the film Inception, ten minutes is equivalent to about two hours in dreamland. A lot can happen within that span of time. Let's just say I am frequently able to tailor and manipulate the ending of my odd-and-highly-unrealistic-dreams to my liking because of these ten minutes.
I'm proud to say today, within ten minutes, my hidden talent and mechanical skill surfaced. I fixed a sinking Titanic-like ship in the Atlantic to become a spaceship, saving everyone in history...
As very well portrayed in the film Inception, ten minutes is equivalent to about two hours in dreamland. A lot can happen within that span of time. Let's just say I am frequently able to tailor and manipulate the ending of my odd-and-highly-unrealistic-dreams to my liking because of these ten minutes.
I'm proud to say today, within ten minutes, my hidden talent and mechanical skill surfaced. I fixed a sinking Titanic-like ship in the Atlantic to become a spaceship, saving everyone in history...
Monday, July 4, 2011
Apathy
And in this silence,
Rethinking old thoughts.
I think I have finally centered my inner-self.
I found beauty in silence today.
Murphy's Law can unfold himself anytime now,
& I believe I couldn't and will not care any less.
My sanity is within my fingertips.
Rethinking old thoughts.
I think I have finally centered my inner-self.
I found beauty in silence today.
Murphy's Law can unfold himself anytime now,
& I believe I couldn't and will not care any less.
My sanity is within my fingertips.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Abode
I am twenty. And in the midst of moving houses, I keep telling people I have spent half my life in this city. Ten years in this beautiful four bedroom house with a gorgeous backyard I once dreamed my wedding photo will be captured at. Underneath the shady green maple trees, I've spent summers sitting, sipping juice and reading books. I've ran bare feet on the grass in the spring, and eagerly await for footprints of bunnies or cats to imprint the carpet of snow in the winter. Admiring the scent of the blooming lavender in the evening, and sitting on the steps of the front porch staring at flying-by airplanes.
When I first moved in, the walls of my room were blue. We painted it off-white immediately. I imagined myself sleeping the tower of the castle until I was thirteen. But I barely slept on my own bed until I was about fifteen, for an odd fear of a reason that continues to remain unknown. I played basketball with the neighbors until I was fourteen. My first basketball net was a twelfth birthday present from my parents. And when summer nights get much to hot, with my parents refusing to turn on the air conditioning, my younger sisters and I would find excuses just to sleep on the folded mattress in the basement. I remember waking up early in the mornings in elementary school, just to measure to see how tall I've grown against the walls. There leaves a light pencil marking smudged. Riding bicycle when I was in sixth grade, falling off two houses down had left a scar on my right knee. All-nighters spent in the kitchen on the computer, working on ISU's while chatting up with a guy I was crushing on... Along the with blackout that occurred in 2006, playing the guitar in candle-light, while mama would barbeque the pizza outside. Sleepovers after sleepovers, and friendships I've shared that flourished.
People have walked in and out of these doors for as long as I remember. Families visiting from afar. Those who within days of meeting have slept in the guest rooms. Friends, and those who have turned into foes. I looked forward every year to having people cramming the house, socializing, smiling and laughing while enjoying buffet food. Rehearsals after rehearsals that occurred in preparation for Carassauga within the last two years. Drama practices and projects that occurred in high school, along with a surprise 17th birthday party with some close friends.
Now I sit here, on the floor of the kitchen typing and flooded with a million memories in the back of my head. With most of the furniture dismantled, along which included the bed, shelves and side table in my bedroom. My closet has never been so empty. Silly how missing socks have ended up emerging. Along with old birthday cards. Boxes are stacked in the corner. This will be my last night spent in Mississauga before I return to Ottawa tomorrow, and my family settle to move in another city. My heart is sinking.
It is not this house that I will miss most but the symbolic representation of memories that happened within these bricks and wooden frames I have called home. I know what I will miss most is the long walks and profound conversations I've had with my best friend every evenings. But I realize too the beauty of moving ahead. That changes must be overcome and with a new chapter that begins, lies another story and unmarked experience just waiting to be explored. I suppose what and whom I have truly cherished in the past years will truly surface in these upcoming years. That which will withstand distance, time and obstacles is genuine and will remain.
This is me. My final night in Mississauga. And as I have mentioned in my graduating speech of a mantra on 'we're moving on, but not ready to let go'....once again I find myself in a circle realizing that I have nothing to let go of but a lot to hold on to. There's absolutely nothing that we should let go of but our fears.
Signing out for the last time in good old 'Sauga City'.
Cheers to another new chapter for my family.
I pray for a smooth transition, more beautiful memories, everlasting friendships, continuous health and an ease to every future predicaments. InshaAllah.
When I first moved in, the walls of my room were blue. We painted it off-white immediately. I imagined myself sleeping the tower of the castle until I was thirteen. But I barely slept on my own bed until I was about fifteen, for an odd fear of a reason that continues to remain unknown. I played basketball with the neighbors until I was fourteen. My first basketball net was a twelfth birthday present from my parents. And when summer nights get much to hot, with my parents refusing to turn on the air conditioning, my younger sisters and I would find excuses just to sleep on the folded mattress in the basement. I remember waking up early in the mornings in elementary school, just to measure to see how tall I've grown against the walls. There leaves a light pencil marking smudged. Riding bicycle when I was in sixth grade, falling off two houses down had left a scar on my right knee. All-nighters spent in the kitchen on the computer, working on ISU's while chatting up with a guy I was crushing on... Along the with blackout that occurred in 2006, playing the guitar in candle-light, while mama would barbeque the pizza outside. Sleepovers after sleepovers, and friendships I've shared that flourished.
People have walked in and out of these doors for as long as I remember. Families visiting from afar. Those who within days of meeting have slept in the guest rooms. Friends, and those who have turned into foes. I looked forward every year to having people cramming the house, socializing, smiling and laughing while enjoying buffet food. Rehearsals after rehearsals that occurred in preparation for Carassauga within the last two years. Drama practices and projects that occurred in high school, along with a surprise 17th birthday party with some close friends.
Now I sit here, on the floor of the kitchen typing and flooded with a million memories in the back of my head. With most of the furniture dismantled, along which included the bed, shelves and side table in my bedroom. My closet has never been so empty. Silly how missing socks have ended up emerging. Along with old birthday cards. Boxes are stacked in the corner. This will be my last night spent in Mississauga before I return to Ottawa tomorrow, and my family settle to move in another city. My heart is sinking.
It is not this house that I will miss most but the symbolic representation of memories that happened within these bricks and wooden frames I have called home. I know what I will miss most is the long walks and profound conversations I've had with my best friend every evenings. But I realize too the beauty of moving ahead. That changes must be overcome and with a new chapter that begins, lies another story and unmarked experience just waiting to be explored. I suppose what and whom I have truly cherished in the past years will truly surface in these upcoming years. That which will withstand distance, time and obstacles is genuine and will remain.
This is me. My final night in Mississauga. And as I have mentioned in my graduating speech of a mantra on 'we're moving on, but not ready to let go'....once again I find myself in a circle realizing that I have nothing to let go of but a lot to hold on to. There's absolutely nothing that we should let go of but our fears.
Signing out for the last time in good old 'Sauga City'.
Cheers to another new chapter for my family.
I pray for a smooth transition, more beautiful memories, everlasting friendships, continuous health and an ease to every future predicaments. InshaAllah.
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