إنه مجرد وهم

expressive free-writing blog. all rights reserved to Reem AL-Abdullah, 2017(c)

Month: October, 2015

The Fool, The Knight.

I’d still die for her if she asked me to. And have my bones dance for her crooked smile..

Those glistering-soft lips say their angelic words, still.

Yet I’m only obedient to the orders of nothing but those stormy eyes; In need of them to wreck havoc and awaken the dead shores within once more.

So the princess’ fool of a knight, indeed I’d be. Just ask it of me.

The Abilities of A Selfish Being

I am. And I can be. So I did. Again.

Loving her pushed my deterred soul to dwell on whatever came my way. Seemingly wide and endless yet it all fell back down to its main stream of: how she made me feel. Repetitively for almost twelve months now.. However, As I just found glimpses of logic about it, it went away just as rapidly. Or so I deeply hope.

To put it into words is what I now wish would be the first pillar that would help me eventually in achieving how to come back down to my vessel.

So let’s get to it; Imagine living with no senses, simply impossible for someone who’s been around for 20 years, and counting, ever so dependent on them right? wrong. Because that is exactly how I felt, once life introduced me to her.. Angel. 

A literal shock ignited my soul to wander a little too far off to where I am still currently stranded. Ever so blissful ..Till this day.

At first it was too hard to comprehend; too many things flashed at once and continued to do so for way too long! yet surely, but gradually it was achieved. My “senses” are now no longer new, no longer in pursuit for whatever, conquered by instincts’ true purpose. Natural. Moreover, my soul felt like it was finally paid its rightful debt of duty to commence within the norms of living; Another right that also felt long lost for too long. Again, natural.

Yes, due to our “most admirable trait” as humankind; one must adapt. Always. Or suffer the consequence and parish. Therefore, by basic instinct, while I was still somehow attached to my organic existence, it kicked in, and it fought.. Mercilessly, to obtain what kept it going. Adapting ever so gracefully.

In ironic growth that is where instinct became victorious. A hopeless-romantic’s worst fear. The end of all love.

And there it was. The abrupt end of my so called Angel.

am I really lost? II

In this life I get to choose.

To be good or bad. to live or to shut myself down. to grow or to break myself apart.

with the ability to relentlessly go back and forth between whichever till the end of my atomic assembly.

A false sense of control, but control nonetheless; Thus why I chose to remain a little while longer.

Enlightened at least.

Assuming I maintained my previous desire; what would happen if I ended my existence? The worst of course.

I would no longer ever have the upper hand.

For in the realm I’m currently in, it is my body alone that does not belong to me, but as for my sweet soul? all mine (and those I choose to give pieces of it to).

What about the afterlife realm? The graced, Godly Realm? -scoff-

My current vessel would be gone forever, replaced mayhap. And my soul enslaved. 

Good or bad, never both, never in-between. No more growing, no more reassembling and surely zero possibility to just. Be. Nothing. No more grey.

 A slave to the monstrous creator for all eternity. 

 I love endings; new beginnings even more. to lose all that forever makes me shudder with morbid fear.

Phoenix the cowardly II

got me wishing my bones weren’t the reminiscence of ashes, but rather resilient as those that sustained my flames once before. so I could bring myself to impress yet another. but oh do I tumble and collapse; pride first, at the thought of you escaping me like the bright light through my feathers you are. can’t you see I’m just a wounded coward, darling?

Phoenix the cowardly 

I regret nothing in my life but everything that involved you. I regret opening up to you, getting to know you, realizing that something that is beyond perfection actually exists, fighting, winning for you; losing to you, and lastly falling for you.

the time we shared will always be the highlight of my whole life. and as of now I shall go on till I reach my final death in a soulless daze of, in and for you. this I do not regret. I cannot.

such a challenging concept.

the good outweighs the bad; at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

we’re both lost, loath each other, but we know what we had was special despite all the fuckery. so we reconnect for some nights like we were never distant, pretending. like nothing happened. like it has always been meant to be. disgusting, truly.. so fucking empty; with or without you.

but I hate sleeping alone.

am I really lost?

The shores of my soul have been harbouring the idea of death.

Yes, and for quite some time now. Taking my own life seemed my only way out. But a realisation then came along; what happens after death? What do I want to happen after my death, to me.

The afterlife -what will come next- is such a disgusting aspect, isn’t it?

To some it is what’s desired; meeting the creator, being at peace (supposedly), seeing those who departured before us, once again. all so horrible to the likes of me.

I would pretty much not and shall not ever be “graced” nor blessed to be in the “light” of our so called creator. ha! more like monster.

To exist isn’t the desire of all. I never was asked if I wanted to be here; not before nor during and surely not after!

Eternal life is a punishment within itself.

Which quite frankly is the answer to what comes next; my second question.