Archive for March, 2005
Wednesday, March 30th, 2005
Her story makes me want to weep
20 minutes ago:
The US Senate passed legislation that congressional leaders hope will keep alive a heavily brain-damaged Florida woman, Terri Schiavo (R), who has been fed artificially for 15 years.
Her husband is something else, I tell you.
And this is from Alqabas today:
رئيس نقابة العاملين في «التطبيقي»معظم المطالبين بحقوق المرأة شعاراتهم زائفةقال رئيس
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Sunday, March 27th, 2005
what ever your believes are.
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Sunday, March 20th, 2005
myself that this will be my last entry into this prison of memories, yet I keep finding myself contributing to my misery...
I've realized how different and alienated 'She' left me feeling about myself and of life itself. At one point in my life I was truly happy as I had never had a taste of this unwordly emotion. Yet she found me when I was unprepared and scarred my heart, so deeply that I'm astonished to see that it still supplies my body of this wretched, miserable and sorrowful lifesource.
It's become a daily ritual to kiss one of the few keepsakes I have of our once brief moment together even though it just leaves me dry and longing to be united once more. I keep asking myself, that before I die... will I ever be able to feel her heartbeat against my chest, smell her ever so soft skin and heavenly strands of hair, or feel her sweet, warm breath echoing into my ear, whispering the very words I seek at every unoccupied moment in my mind? If she has moved on with her life, would she come to my funeral with her husband and family?
Even in the age of digital magic do I suffer the death defying blows of one who rests his love in one and one only. With every message or incoming phonecall on my cell-phone, and with every new instant message on my digital scribe, do I envision 'her' on the other side and imagine as to what environment and what her thoughts and facial expression was at the time of creating and sending the message to me. O' the dissapointment I feel when I discover it is not 'her'... but alas this is the consequence I must pay for upholding such foolish and selfish high hopes... and onwards does the Curse of the Lone Wolf continue...
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Sunday, March 13th, 2005
of excruciating pain, a pain none like any other I have endured. A feeling that never, never goes away. Every day and night, every moment to myself I have felt this deeply rooted pain of an immense magnitude. Others claim to have experienced it but I know that they haven't... for they have all moved on whereas I haven't. I am marooned on an island, an island surrounded by great cities full of activity and joy. Across the sea I can hear her laugh reverberating without me by her side but with someone else.
The only time where I was cured of this illness was when 'She' would appear before me with the same feelings I had for her. These feelings we shared meant the world to me but I in my infinite stupidity would always do something to rid her of these shared sentiments. In between these lapses of separation I remember... I would run for hours in an attempt to rid myself of these thoughts, those still vivid memories of her smile and her hypnotizing voice... I would lose myself in those thoughts as if I were in a trance and nothing could break my train of thought except until the barrage of memories because too much for me to handle. Then suddenly I would hear something, something so powerful and clear that it would bring me back from the world of illusions... it was 'her' calling out my name, I could not move and stood there shocked until I could see the face I memorized in my heart inches away. It felt as thought days had gone by and eventually I found myself alone again, wondering when my CD player's newly bought batteries ran out of power.
'She' in all her beauty would forgive me and we would eventually reunite... but not this time. I claimed to have moved on but I cannot lie to myself anymore... I cannot tame my heart, it controls me like and I am powerless to resist. I remember sitting next to her side by side, O' what a wonderful feeling it was knowing she rested her shoulder onto mine, her scent was the most delicate fragrance I've ever smelled.
O' how painful it is for me to see 'her' eyes and that same spirit in him, eyes that captivate me into a different world where I am not the center piece, just a spectator behind a glass wall and a spirit that moves my very soul, the Sun to a Flower, I cannot help but reach for it's ever bright golden aura.
O' if I had only been rid of my immaturity and jealousness back then maybe I could have prevented the hatred that I have for myself and from shedding these tears as I am writing this. If only I was what she sought then she would have been a part of my life now... yet I find myself here, pouring my heart and soul out, knowing my words will never reach her yet I continue. I continue as if it were a duty, an obligation I must fulfill for myself or perhaps in tribute to some unknown force. By Allah, how did I lose her? Her smile alone can bring me back from the dead... O' how I regret losing her every moment of my lonely existence... I pray every day to be with you, I swear I'm a changed man, let me feel your soft palm once more, let me grasp it as we grow old together... I swear on my unworthy life that I will never let go...
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Tuesday, March 8th, 2005
a time where my heart actually stopped throbbing with pain at the mere sound of her name. That was when I was in perfect harmony with myself and everything around me because I could hear her voice and lose myself in her eyes everyday... that time was a long time a go. Now I sit here talking to her hundreds of miles away, unaware whether or not she can still detect my feelings for her from my few lines of text. It still feels as though my every message to her must be perfectly orchestrated in order for me to gain her attention and not bore her. We start talking aimlessly about things that do not matter, never about things of importance like our past together. I do not know why I cannot move on like so many people have and despite encouragement from several others and it is for this reason that I still talk to her, to see if my spirit still reignites at the sound of a new message received from 'her'. From being able to hear her voice from the silent late hours of the night up till the chirping of birds in the morning, I now communicate to her by text only. I seek any source of emotion from her like a scavenger, and feel relieved to see a smiling face at the end of her messages or sometimes even a winking face. O' how words cannot describe the unique feeling I get and the smile on my face from simple things like that. The mere idea that she could be thinking the same way as the symbolism behind each picture revitalizes all hopes of ever reuniting with her.
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Monday, March 7th, 2005
Just speaking with her somehow prolonged the day to 4 am, I've yet to discover why this is so. This feeling alone is capable of driving men to insanity, move mountains, look up to the sky at night or day; rain or sand, ignore the body's basic need to rest, ignore one's acadamic studies in favor of pondering what causes us to feel this way or to just sit there lost and teary eyed wondering at what point in your life did you lose her and why...
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