Silence Falls Thick

When the silence falls thick, unnoticed, wraps me in sinews of flesh, unbidden, robs me of air I am suffocating, When silence is sitting on my chest, unmoving, a death god, unchecked, unwanted, it just won’t budge, however much you try, tell me now, what can I do?
What can I do when heavy silence falls on my heart like steel pylons, robs me of air, unflinching, wraps me in a straitjacket of oppression, gags me with his loincloth, unwashed, I am gagging, robbed of personality, slaving in anonymity, wondering who am I? who am I? who am I that the darkness won’t blink; who am I who a myoclonic jerk won’t rouse; who am I who a heartbreak won’t douse; who am I? Who am I? Who am I?
When the sinews of silence stretch taut around me, suffocating the thoughts buzzing in the darkness sewing black cloth to house me; when the death god turns host to accommodate me, tell me now, who can I call upon for a few words of comfort? When my ears buzz in absence of sound and my mind echoes with static devoid of all thought, when my eyes see the silence for what it has become, when my name slips through my conscience and my words leak through my jowls, like…like…like…I cannot remember, for the silence is a thief, a robber, a taker, a devil and I am devoid of all want.
What do I want? WANT? WHAT? WANT? What do I want? Before I forget, before silence, the thief, the robber, the taker, the devil, robs me of all want, project this need, do this one deed, tell me now, what do I want?
I WANT YOU!
I want you more than the wholesomeness of thought brimming in my head, I want you, if I forget, I would want you, to whisper it in the caves of my mind, whisper it in the silence of night, until it echoes in this deadness of thought.
I want you to be the last thing I forget.

A figment in my Lover's memory

Dear Beloved

You very well know what happened to make me this way…you were at the center of it! You found me fully in control of the universe of ME and you pivoted me off the axis of my planet. And now here I am, dizzy from the breakneck roller-coaster I just had the misfortune or the honor (not yet decided which) to have experienced.

A quickie relationship, you could say – Get In, Love Insanely, Get Out. OMG! I am breathless! And confused! OMG! That just didn’t happen – You just PASSED through me! Like I am a freaking corridor! That ought to sting like a bee!

YES! Here I am, not yet sure where I stand. Should I fight? Should I slink away into the dark? Can’t I stalk you? (WICKED GRIN) Just a little bit! NO? YES? Make up your mind woman!! Ugh!! NO it is. That’s okay still, I had to try you know.

I am trying to play back the initial love scenario in my head – was I too easy? Must have been? The minute you broke word of how I germinate butterflies in your tummy, I was bowled over. JUST LIKE THAT! SNAP!!! I admit that was easy…even for a mastermind like me, veteran of a dozen mental love conquests! I never fail to impress. Too bad it’s all in my head…

Now you left… or so you think, I offered you my heart…and you gladly took it. I gave it all. And its all for keeps. I sold my soul to the memory of YOU, every little whisker and mole. I GAVE IT ALL. You don’t just get to up and leave. –my love is no-strings-attached. When you leave, you leave with a sizable chunk of me. The good part of me. I cannot get it back. I am yours for good- GOODS ONCE SOLD, ARE NOT RETURNABLE…

Listen to reason, especially if it comes groveling in the dirt…

Dear Beloved…

Death Note

Dear Diary,
When you read this, know that that its already too late and I am dead already so do not shed your Ink; do not think I did not love you, for surely I did, as much as I was allowed to; but everything has a beginning and an end, and I suppose this is the end for me and the beginning of a different journey for you, one without me. I neglected you so.
I am accustomed to dying already, done it so many times already, but man! Every time it gets harder and harder to bear the pain- of dying inside. Death is such a dark lonely place. It’s so cold, so threatening to be all alone, to die alone and not have at least one soul to tell your story. But I am dead already, so it doesn’t matter much.
I thought I would continue caring for the comforts I cared for before. Sadly, I don’t. Dying is no different from living a half-life. For death is a half-life as it is. I go through the motions of death (Call it Life if you may) with a faraway look. The days are a blur. The food is bland, water…well that at least still tastes the same- like nothing! My legs trudge on, the lungs breathe on, my eyes look on as I live or as I die. For each moment I breathe, I die once more.
At least you didn’t leave Dearest Diary- though I suspect you would have done the same had you little windy legs and flailing arms to carry you far away from me. I know you too would have chosen to make a run for it. I do not blame you. I am a marked man and as is the way with marked men, they lose everything they hold dear to them. What is one more heartbreak? What is one more loss? What is one less Diary to keep at my chest for comfort? You do not want me anymore. I neglected you so.
Dear diary, mark my words; I will be less of a burden to you. My death marks the day I will release you from my bondage. I will rid myself of any renegade feelings I felt for you. Live a happier life than I could give you. I have to go now. Keep my secrets and I will scratch you back…

Time Warp

 February 6^th 2023

The thing about writing journals is that we normally write about stuff that has already happened; we write these things down so that we might maybe be able to preserve those events for future review. I suppose that is how this whole journal/blog/diary thing is supposed to go down.  

Have you ever wanted to do it differently, for once maybe?

Today Is the 6^th of February 2023. Today also happens to be my birthday. I finally made 35 years since I popped on the scene. Such a bundle of joy I have been to all those who have known me up until now.  Okay, granted not much the bundle as the joy shared. I am human and that’s my saving grace. My flaws make me uniquely me.

If you must know, I am married. Happily. Don’t laugh. It had to happen sometime you know. My Rabbit is the most beautiful woman you will ever see. She is tiny, much like a child much as we are age mates. She speaks Arabic, French and English. I suppose our kids when they grow up, they will have to speak just as many international languages.  It’s a global village you know.  Our first-born Jericho is already showing mad skills at being multi-lingual. I hope Eden and Shiraz will show as much promise.  I am eternally grateful for my happy healthy children.

We live in a spacious 6 bed roomed modern house complete with a greenhouse and as much greenery as is permitted on our plot of land. We got some animals too; a dog, a cat, rabbits, pigeons. We got birds, but we don’t own those:

You know, looking back, I never imagined I would be where I am today. At 25 I had no idea how drastically life would change. I was stuck in a rut back then, unsure of what my future held for me. Now I know I was worried for nothing. Funny thing how life sort of ends up just the way you want it, if you let it.

I am content with my family and my mom and 3 siblings. We turned out good after all. Who knew?

When I fight

When I fight, I fight as a blind man running into a ditch. There is no telling what the outcome might be. Good or bad, I can never tell. One thing is certain, win or lose, it never did settle well in the pit of my stomach. It churns in my tummy with such anger, gives me gas. It makes me belch with such thunder, wriggle with such discomfort, I would rather I staved off the fight.

When I fight, I fight as the rush-me-not tortoise would. I close up the windows to my heart so shut, the winds fidget to escape. I bolt the door to my soul so hard and draw the blinds and sit quietly in the pregnant darkness that I have created for myself.

My mouth takes back its inviting smile. My eyes shut out their warmth and my face its prior recognition of who my friends be. My welcoming arms fall limp to my side, my chest heaves and falls in defeat, my broad shoulders slump: my skin crawls with such a chill, such a chill that my teeth chatter, my mouth wobbles, my heart flutters. My heavy heart cringes and folds and grinds to a halt. That sets me off – my soul screams! And such a feeling that is, I would rather I staved off the fight.

I would rather have unsaid those words; I could have feigned sleep, murmured for effect, got you off my case. I could have sneezed for a bit and maybe derailed my train of thought. i could have said I loved you, you could have said you loved me back and all would be well now.

Now here I am, seated quietly in this pregnant darkness I have created for myself; a grave I have dug for myself and now I have to take a seat in. I am now seated quietly, too weak to climb out, too scared to scream. My soul is doing that for me, screaming, weeping, sobbing; clawing through my mind, searching for a way out.

I am afraid; my skin is crawling with such a chill. I ask myself – why did I fight? I would rather have staved off the fight. It has brought my shameful flaws to light.

The Reason I do not Date

I am sorry, I Do Not Date. I do not wish to. I believe the ONE I am betrothed to by the heavens is out there, keeping Vigil: She is terrified I will give up the wait and I am terrified some man will Impersonate My Heart. I hope she too will not date either; I know that if I don’t find her, She Will Find Me. And so I wait.

I do not date. My heart has to remain untarnished. For her. I do not dream of the day I will see her, because I do not need to. My Heart Already Knows. I do not imagine how she looks, because my soul sees her in my mind’s eye. I do not need to create allusions as to her smile, her lips, her eyes, her hips. That will soil my soul and shut off my senses finely tuned to finding her. I will cease to look for her heart and start searching for fleeting skin-deep beauty. She Is More Than That. Her soul has to sing to me, and I will be waiting!

The reason I do not date---I will liken the girl I set my eyes on, to her. I will attempt to fit her imprint in my soul to the girl I see. Before long, my soul will pick up the scent of the new girl and I will forget my quest. Because the new girl is betrothed to someone too as I am betrothed to her. She is special to someone as is my special girl. So I will break two hearts. No, three hearts, due to my selfishness.

So I do not date. I Simply Lie In Wait, ready to ambush the one I love- you know, jump out of the shadows and say, “SURPRISE!!!”

Let’ s only hope I don’t catch her in one of those WTF moments!

Mind Games

I am going to play a game- a mind game: I remain the only participant as it suits me splendidly: two is a crowd. I am going to close up to the world around me, close my eyes and imagine all the badness around me does not affect me; that I have a million friends who love me unconditionally and a million more queuing up in a single file halfway across the world wanting to make friends with me.

As I know what it’s like to be friendless, I will make friends with each in turn and have a mutual trust and respect with all my new friends.

I am going to have a best friend: a girl who wears cute plaid skirts and twirls around in circles on tip toe to show me how cute she feels: a girl who whispers nothings in my ear and knows every little miniscule detail of my life: a best friend who feels incomplete without me; who understands me enough to like the opposites in every situation, just like I do: who smiles at me and talks to me alone but doesn’t want us to get married because, her own words, she’s a free spirit and wouldn’t want to be obliged to cook for me and wash for me. Anyways, she would not even like babies with big heads and big ideas like mine- she’d never stand for it: would never want them out of her sight and would choke them with kisses. Nope, that wouldn’t be good. And then there’s the hopelessness about me that would drive her crazy and so madly in love with me.

I am going to imagine I have no family and hence no roots. That I belong to no race in particular and my current family is a bunch of imposters; that I was conceived in the sea, born of the mating of the seasons; that I grew up without attachments, without pain; with so much love that I do not associate pain for what it brings but as a sacrifice for all things good.

I am going to imagine my eyes never ran dry and the tears I cry are rivers of love flowing into the worlds’ greatest seas; that all civilization by herd instinct finds their way to the banks and lap these healing waters.

My mind has convinced me that I do not belong but to all religions of the world and that they all lead the same way, that of everlasting peace in heaven. So that being, I do not have to conflict within myself.

I am a General, leading my men into the battlefield of the mind, waging war against myself, against the worries that have plagued me all my life: questions on what I will eat, whether I’ll finish my education, if I am loved, why no one cares, why nobody calls, why I am so lonely: I, the General will battle self esteem, childhood trauma, invisibility and self-doubt.

I am going to imagine I did not hate my dad and do not actually flinch whenever he calls my name and that he did actually love me and I wasn’t that ashamed of him that I would get around to inviting my friends over for lunch.

My mind has directed me to say my mom actually made time for me and was not so busy worrying about us and I grew up in the same neighborhood and made a million lifelong friends. That my mom wasn’t so bossy and such a busy-body that she wouldn’t unnerve me whether she’s around.

I’d imagine I had a library a mile long and sat down with no interruption and read a million books a day  and my tongue wasn’t so glib that I could narrate what I read and hold everyone spellbound and be applauded at the end. Everyone would comment on how bright I was and I would actually believe them without letting it get to my head.

I am going to imagine I was never made to walk around town as a child with a placard around my neck and it didn’t affect me so much all this while: that I actually believed in the power of my mind and really believed God cared enough for me and if He did, I’d ask Him why badness followed me around like a second skin and why I am so mismatched like a child in grown up clothes or a bull in a china shop. I’d ask God why the last gift He left me, the crayons that color my world are becoming harder to use and why everyday it gets harder and harder to breathe.

Let me imagine whatever I’ve gone through has been a preparation for the times ahead and it was a baptism of fire so that when the mantle of authority bears down on my shoulders, I’d draw strength upon strength from my past experiences. I would finally be ready to be a man among men and do man things and be applauded and those who are weak would follow me.

So I sit back and wait for such a time when I would be the man I was created to be.