Ascension

(when I checked this once posted, I realized a big chunk of the writing at the start was gone. I went to my dashboard and looked through drafts, it is nowhere to be found, and I can't remember what I wrote in the heat of the moment, as usual, since this is totally spontaneous and unedited, so this is left as it)

I took, didn't want for things to change. I have defended my offenders. I hid my abusers. I was quite and docile. I forged my personality with my pertretors. I created order out of their chaos. I dismorphed my figure. I hid the abuse in the folds of my fat. In my bones, I kept the anger from daring to come to any surface. I curved my spine, I twisted my shoulders. My grey hairs aren't even spreading, keeping appearances game is on point. Beneath the surface though, it's a different story. My pubes have gone all grey already. But I kept my graceful smile. And I kept my labouring. Even after all that has happened, and I was left with nothing at all, they still required me to labor. I did it. But then God roared. He has been saying enough for quite a few years, I just couldn't know for sure. I just couldn't be certain. As usual, doubting the very loving voice within, for the sake of validating the hating voice without. This is how deep the abuse have been. 

When I was faced with apathy few days ago with one so called family member, I was shocked. These still shock me? Yes, every new relevation does. Any new unexpected person being exposed does disturb the little threads of peace I'm barely managing to put together. When another so called family member silenced me later in the day, I was shocked. Yes again. I would go on instantly validating their views usually, and attending to their needs, attuning to their wishes, speaking up but really only just wanting to make an agreement. 

Anything but disagreement, anything but conflict, anything but confrontation, pretty please! 

This, my friends, is how badly I have been abused. I did not know, I still don't know. So God is roaring in the faintest voice, in a whisper, and it's flipping the whole existence upside down. 

On the afternoon of that day, which was Sunday, my wallowing day, I went quiet. Totally quiet. I couldn't wallow, I couldn't write, but I contemplated, and let things be. By nighttime, I was sobbing uncontrollably. What happened between the afternoon and the night, is realising that my body felt totally frozen. It is the same taste under my tongue, that one since I was a child, the aggression and cold apathy when thrown at me, it feels as though huge body sized blocks of thick and heavy ice. It rests on my chest suffocating me, it blocks my moves, it turns and twists with its sharps edges scratching my skin, pruding into my flesh. I bleed in silence, but even my blood gets frozen. Everything is still, until I feel utterly unalive. 

In that utterly dead moment of total freeze in despair, disbelief, disarming, one single thought come along and warmed my heart and made me feel alive, the thought of someone the exact opposite of all those people, with untamed fire, so passionate, so wild, so raw and real, and me wanting that persob to squeeze me, and the hell out of that giant block of ice on me, to melt it away and rid me of its effect. It was the face of my last boyfriend, my latest narcistic, my last one. 

This is how bad the abuse have been. 

I cried for hours on end while my body shivered and jolted. God was whispering again, I was responding. There was nothing left to do. It is why when the last man came along with an unmatched fire, I was blinded again, because it fooled me. I come from the family of icy narcissists, they can not love. Physical affection is not a thing to them. And I had been starved! 

He comes rushing in with care and attention and presence and physical attention and constant closeness and humour and action and desire and passion and hope and forgiveness and gentleness and consistency, and I am swept off my feet, only just wanting more of of that which I have been starved from my whole entire life, and he has and was and gave in abundance.

But then God roared, ever so gently, to wake up already, and that time was running. 

I didn't understand the first time, I removed him unconsciously. Then second time, then third time, on and on it went. I can't even count how many times we broke up and came back together, stronger every time. Me with my attachment, him with his tactics. I would break up with him for sensing something off, but not being able to feel it in the body, for my body not just craved him, it got attuned to him, and eventually, addicted. It was like that love affair I had with the sugar brioche as a tiny little helpless child who felt utterly suffocated with the kind of evil that surrounded me at school, and how that little edible consumable thing became my solace, shield, and heaven, even if I had to suffer to attain it, or after consuming it.

When away from him I felt the aching pains of crying on the top of lungs as few months old baby left in the hospital with total strangers because my mother needed to offload me. When with him, I was learning about how tenderness feels as a safe baby inside it's mother's world. When with him, my pains and memories of abandonment and alienation were being replaced with all that was normal and I had never experienced before...

I learned how it could've been to be someone's partner when the intention was unity, not division, inclusivity not alienation, harmony not splitting.

I learned how it would have felt for my love to my mother to be reciprocated. I learned how it would have felt for any of my husbands to be protective. I learned how it ought to have felt for m daughter to have loved me, or at least, reciprocated my own love. 

My last narcistic showed me how it feels to be loved, and just how deprived I had been. "Show" is a good word because it was all an act, but it mattered little when compared with how deeply unconscious I have been, and how conscious this relationship has made me.

This is how bad the abuse have been. 

In the aftermath of it all, now, there is no separation from God and the reality. You either are in it, or inside your own reality. The devil, and the spirits, with the cooperation of ego, have sure made and excellent job keeping us inside our bubbles of distorted reality, anything to escape and see through the reality. I liked it there, I got so accustomed to the abuse it felt like home. So much so that my latest guy turned out to be the most lowest person I have ever encountered, the most abusive, with the lowest standards, devoid of values, highly and skillfully manipulative, utterly opportunistic, a total sociopath, yet, I would want to be with him, constantly and regularly, because the numbing effect he had on me was the brief breaks I would take from the excruciating pains of a lifetime of abuse and neglect.

But then, I awakened. It was spiritual, all this existence is, but also physical. He assaulted and beat me hard on our very last encounter. There was no way this contradiction wasn't going to shake me off, on several different levels. It did. 

So my dear friends, trauma on all children turning adults doesn't always turn them into ice like it did with my own family, sometimes it turns them into melting hot fire. I did not know. I haven't encountered a lot of people or seen different patterns throughout my life. I was forever naiive although turning from maiden to mother. 

On my way to become a crone, it seems to have been enough for me. For God's voice became louder inside of me, and by then, God wasn't just talking to me, he was showing me too. 

I came to realize that this indeed is the land of the devil, and that we are indeed in the underworld. All that happens here is meticulously engineered to produce loosh (the lowest frequency energy) for the devil and its ones to feed on. For that to work, there needs to be an ultimate inversion, and so, as a rule of thumb, all of this existence is inverted. 

Until, now. 

It is as though there has been put a time limit for this existence, whereas it ran freely endlessly before then, or so it felt.

It is a frightening time, don't think for even a split of a second I wanted out of my reality. It was home, and all I knew, I wanted my abusers around me, serving them has became my personality and character, whom I was and what I did. 

But! 

The Inversion has started to being inverted, gently and slowly over the recent years, but harshly and briskly at this stage. 

And so, for the very first time in my life, I am being forced to look straight at the pain, see it for what it is. And I'm gutted. I was totally shielded from it, for I have been running on auto-pilot most of my life. 

Now that I see it, I can sure tell you, it's ugly, it's bad, it's disgusting and revolting!

Back to the inverting of the inversion, and what it's doing, and what it means. All those seemingly tame and harmless victims I dedicated my whole life loving and standing up by and defending and dedicating myself for, are coming out as who they truly are; the defenders, the abusers, and help me God, for the scene is extremely hard to look at, and the reality almost impossible to swallow.

But there are no corners left to escape to anymore, there's nothing to hide under anymore. The light is coming through so very brightly, reaching long and wild, nothing to hide under anymore, even for just a little while.

Exposure is the title of this phase. 

Try as you might,

Your reality will be shattered, whomever you are, or think that you are. 

Brace for the impact,

This  

 is 

Ascension!

Reboot

I shall try and keep the wallowing for Sundays only, here we go. 

Another start, still grieving, but learning to resist less, and be open to receiving all the downloads, messages, insights. Flashback mode on. Vivid dreams mode on. 

I cut out sugar for good this week. I was having very little towards the end anyway, it's been my number 1 addiction throughout my life. I nearly lost it this morning though, but I went out and gotten myself dates. Nervous system can have a little break again! I'm sipping on my sugar free hot chocolate, while fan speed is full on and a cool September breeze coming in through the windows. 

I don't see people anymore, I've cut off almost everyone I know. There was nothing in it for me anyway, all those encounters, I had just been programmed and wired to run on extremely off nervous system, and so the stress of not receiving, and for my effort, energy, and love, never to be reciprocated, has been one major addiction of mine. I was oblivious to it all. Thankfully though, I've become conscious.

My body is in extreme pain, all of it, chronic fatigue and years, even decades old pain are all been activated simultaneously. Whatever I was busy pushing down, came out rushing, the moment I said: enough. 

There isn't much I'm capable of achieving at this stage, I pray. My prayer is celibacy, fasting, and silence. These are the three pillars I now live by. God doesn't just come to me, God is within me. I've been cleaning the vessel, and now it's being purified. Default setting shall be restored fully soon. In the meantime, there's crying, and purging, and crying through purging, and purging through crying, and,  remembrance...

I could write essays on the remembering part alone, but that's for another time. I'm often thankful and grateful, for I have been found, and made to remember. It was a short call from falling and disappearing, but there has been divine intervention, numerous ones. I now bask in the grace of it all. 

There is constant shivering, body jolting and shaking, as though pushing out all of that stagnant pain and toxicity, all of that which I have held within that was never mine to begin with. Sometimes it's low and manageable, other times it's very wild and powerful. I simply allow it to be, I simply allow me to be. 

One thing for sure, I am never to doubt myself again, that inner voice, my intuition, has always been on point. I was simply made to question my mere existence all the time, thanks to a lifetime of gaslighting, abuse, maniplulation, discard, neglect, through almost all of the people I have known, especially family, especially husbands, especially partners, and friends!

I live in peace no as the noise of it and them all has been reduced first, then eradicated. I was never up to the noise nor the chaos to begin with. I have always been about sounds. Mine, and theirs. All they wanted to ever do was create chaos through noise, and noise through chaos, anything to mute the bliss, anything to avoid facing the reality. 

The more clean the vessel has become, the clearer it reflected back to them their own reality, and they hated me for it. And so, I started to have enemies for the first time in my life. Being truly hated, rejected, punished, silenced, for merely mirroring to them who they were, despite my love to them through it all...

I now get it, all of the pain they inflicted on me! Now I know, I no longer wonder in despair, nor wanting closures, or looking for answers. 

I am relieved, and humbled. 

Thank you, thank you.

I didn't just start living this solitude life, it has always been only myself anyway. All the relationships and dynamics and a lifetime of events and day-to-day living, and all the milestones. I have always been the one in charge of it all, I have been the one making, creating, working, putting in the time, the energy, the effort, the hope, the goals, sharing the successes, processing and transmuting the failures. I have been the one showing up, uplifting, encouraging, forgiving, forgetting, forging, coaching, mentoring. I have been the only one holding space. I have been the one seeing through. I have been the one loving. I have been the one believing. I have been the love. But a lifetime of being projected on by evil embodied beings messes badly with one's mind!

Thankfully though, I have remembered and am remembering. 

I no longer chase hope nor wanting to see change. I quit this game. I let them play by their own rules and through their own ways, and I keep my own knowing of it all being just a game to myself. Whatever it is they think or feel, I validate that for them. I simply just let them.

All these past cycles, starting and ending, I now know what it was all about. I rejoice in silence, and I say a little prayer of gratitude ever so often, throughout my day. 

I have been more than blessed, despite the blinding grief.

My prayer is a never ending thank you... 

Yours truly

I bathed in the sun without you for the first time, on our Sunday, took me 5 weeks to do. It was me and the thought of you, in my chest, not in my mind. I cried a little here and there, but mostly I allowed that newly cleansed vessel inside of me to just hold you a little. I've missed you. I conversed with God at the peek of the moment, he missed you too. We had to let you be, and respect your choice, of spirit entanglements, and the dark side. We loved you through it, we still do, our distance is our love for you at this stage. 

I cried too from the knowing, of all the pains and the distortions inside of your head, heart, and soul. I knew a little too much for somebody just wanting a light - and grounding with earthly pleasures - relationship. Every moment with you I was brought up to the 7th sky, and pulled down to the 7th hell. I loved your extremes. I hated your demons. I missed your soul, always have. But nothing beats the current peace. Damn you and the chaos you create! 

I get to write my useless words again, since this whole realm is not the reality anyway. I might as well have my own little delusional reality within it, if it comes to that. You were at its centre for a while, for several months, for 9 months to be exact. I sure have pushed you out of my womb, you silly little thing!

I miss the sight of you, I miss your voice, I miss the warmth of your touch, I miss our embrace, and I miss your vulnerability. You couldn't mask it towards the end anymore, and it drove you crazy. The pretences were dropping down, and you got too busy working on new ones, but those never worked. I have wanted to see you all, for I have appreciated and accepted all of your sides and aspects. You thought you could keep things together by sticking on more new show offs and fake gestures and empty words. It was just not going to work anymore, I naiively thought I was giving you pointers. Everything was a threat to you, a challenge, a bet. What a shame, what a waste!...

I had to forgive you eventually. I was right all along; you've never handled a full woman before, requiring from you to be a real human being. You've never beenor in a real, non transactional relationship before. I should've known better, but then again, you are indeed my teacher, through and through. 

You showed me just how inverted this reality is, and just how seriously and badly damaged the people are. You showed me, for how else could I have seen it, if I didn't go down the street! Except, you brought the streets to my home, and you fought and attacked and assaulted me hard as though I was your nemesis! 

Thank you for the lessons. I am sorry for my naivety. We played good and evil. You know the biggest trick the devil pulled?

Yeah, never mind... 

I don't pray for you anymore like I used to before. Instead, I just speak to God about my feelings and thoughts, and I release you from me to him everytime, with a little bit more detachment every single time. It seems to be doing the trick. I am indeed over you.

For whatever it's worth though,

Fuck you!

Around the corner

They brought us autumn in August, I was not yet ready to turn in. The sun was still at it, the grieving hasn't yet ended, there's more to expose, and a lot to be exposed for. I shan't address these clouds, move along now, heart still has work to do with Sun, and those sunny people, and their sunny hearts. Wait around the corner you eager evil spirit with your doom and gloom! 

The echoes of muted screams

I'm the butchered cow, once fell, all alone, and the butchers roaming around, each one wanting a piece of his own.

I'm the orphan who dreamed excessively about Home, it started to project it on the faces of her predators. 

I choke on the thorn of the rose they offer me, totally oblivious to the purpose of any of it all, life, its roses, and the rose offering.

I am mother and child, and the deserting of both. The alienation, the abandonment, the sacrifice, the refuge, the longing, the containment, the attachment, and the detachment.

I am the neverending, always changing, mourning grief.

I am all the mornings, and some nightimes.

I am always escaping, avoiding, spacing out, self rejecting.

I am all the men that I have loved.

I am the residue of the residue of whatever breadcrumbs was ever thrown at me.

Men, women, children, all the same.

The pain is the pain is the pain is the pain.

Another day comes, 

Another day goes.

The cycles change, 

And I remain,

Griefbound.

On and on 

It goes. 

Until there is nothing left

but the echoes of muted screams.

Hush now baby,

Nobody's home. 

There is no home,

Just you,

And this incessant itching for a life that was only ever birthed once in your own psyche.

Hush and sleep now,

Or,

Just 

You 

Wake 

Up!

Oblivion in the city of ghosts

In the devil's lair, the only hopeful thing to do is ditching hope itself.

You see him in the eyes of everyone, you sense him in the empty smiles, in the fake words, in the silence, even in the void. He did not leave anything or anyone out, and why would he, this is his home after all. 

The grieving is not over what was, or what got lost, or what could've been, it is accepting that all if this life and its intricacies, even its rarest blissful moments, is only a facade.

"The biggest trick the devil played" indeed...

When you think you managed to unclench its grab on you, you find yourself in another trap. On and on it goes. There is food, and there is drink, and there are substances, pleasures, temptations, fake hope, numbing illusions, and all sorts of distractions. 

I see his face with that smirk, I hear his giggles, and that very loud and the most evil laugh...

Fuck you anyway, you lousy pathetic lowley parasitical fraud!

Try as you might,

You do not fool me! 

Cheers to another round of battles, 

This is personal now.

Bleak

I contemplated today the fastest and less chaotic way to take one's own life. I thought the floor of the bathroom with running water would be ideal. Cutting wrists perhaps, but I would hate a slow one. I must research the topic and get well informed. I will surely clear the place thoroughly and tidy up all of my belongings and make it as effortless as easy to clean up after I'm gone. I would leave the door unlocked, and would make it easy to be spotted so that there won't be any foul smells after an unnecessary passing of time. 

I contemplated today at the fucked up genes that run in the family, and all those I've encountered closely, and the narcissism that's so fucking evasive, and all that trauma that has infested the systems in those around me. I stared in my mind at their empty, glass eyes and the way they look right through me, and my pain, and my pleas...

I'm never going to be a burden, but I also feel that there is no point in this whole existence anymore. 

I'm tired from the survival mode, my system is cracking, my mind is fried, my heart is broken, and I ache all over. 

My whole life wasn't just a lie, it was a fucking lame joke! 

It's getting worse by the day, and what's the fucking point!? 

There is none.

Adiós, suckers!

If only!

But then again, 

perhaps maybe... 

Monkey business

I asked God the other day: can I please, please, please embrace them so very tight with my body and close to my chest, so I can squeeze the demons out of them! 

God replied: you'll drown again, don't you ever learn?

I plead: I wish to try again, you and yours will pull me out on time if it happens again. Please! 

God went quiet. 

Ara whispered in my head: "tayseh, banana brain!"

I laughed and cried. 

Amen.

Wake me when it's over

The sky is crying with me, slowly, gently, quietly. 

It shouldn't have rained, it wasn't expected to. 

My washing is hanging out to dry, now soaking wet.

I shouldn't have cried either, I had already grieved and mourned, for several lifetimes over.

I don't have a sleeping pattern anymore, I am often finding myself having dozed off in the middle of a contemplation session in bed in the middle of the day, or after an excessive weeping session in the morning, or on an early evening crash. 

Everything is overwhelming; the reality, my thoughts of it, my reality, the past, the present, the future...

It feels as though I roam without a skin these days. The new level of sensitivity is making me feel extremely fragile and vulnerable. Everything on the outside is being sensed right through the inside of my body, no skin shielding.

I don't crave the human embrace like my usual anymore, I now crave it like my life depends on it, as though it's the very skin that would lessen the effect of this existence on me. 

The ground is still shifting, the tremors don't stop, but only crazy people like me notice it, feel it, or care to talk about it. 

The sky keeps on being messed with too, very badly so. I could hardly make out what is being done to the air anymore, but my incessant crashing of late is very telling for sure. 

I keep downloading dating apps and deleting them. I have reached a new level of despair, nobody's home, but while I'm here, and that crazy heart of mine still bursting with life, I got to venture. Who's there to love, who indeed!?!

Something happened to the timelines lately, I seem to be only bringing things from the past and making them much more relevant here and now, oddly. That tenacity of mine, I never tire, it sure surprises even me! 

I brought all the love and the vibrant memory of my loving heart to all those I loved in my childhood and growing up. All the men, the friends, the family members, the randoms, the strangers, the close ones, the lovers, the children. 

And now I cry and weep as I learn to detach and surrender the need to control the outcome of it all. "It is what it is".

I'm bleeding too. My womb is missing and craving and longing, it's crying with me, but at least I get the cycles. There will be time again soon for the embraces... 

I'm detoxing and suffering from very strong withdrawals. My strong will power can be scary sometimes. I don't know how I do it, but I do. Reset and reboot, time and again!

To feel so much, to devour so much, to contain so much, and then to go cold turkey, disconnect, detach. 

I was created like that, no point resisting anymore, it is written in the stars. I've actually been studying my birth chart recently , just wow! Says it all... 

I can't be bothered about cleaning lately, the place is in a mess, and I'm so annoyed about it. I also keep thinking that I don't wish to die suddenly while my floors are dirty or things need dusting, I genuinely need to go with the place nice and neat. But oh well, this is the reality for now, I suppose I ain't going anytime soon from the look of it! But one still hopes...

On another note, I'm finding solace in my constantly fresh, crispy clean cotton bed linen, I seem to be changing and cleaning those regularly without failing or tiring. At least I got that going on for me, through all the despair. The sensation and the smell seems to be doing the perfect thing to my body and mind, now more than ever before, perhaps they've become my missing skin for the time being.

For that at least, and at this moment, I'm grateful. 

Tomorrow,

That's another day...

Wake me when it's over

In-Purity

I'm washing all the sheets and bed linen. I'm washing all the towels. I'm scrubbing and wiping. I'm washing myself, repeatedly. This place and I ought to be cleansed, a heavy visitor came and soiled this pure space, under the "pure" pretence. The devil is smart, but feeble and cowardly. Same old tricks, only new faces and different bodies. 

You crack me up! 

Better luck next time... 

S.O.S

I cursed the curse that cursed you, 

This morning,

Mother!

Oh how I hate this existence that birthed your narcissism, my stuck in a loop with it, and all of the narcissistic men that moved me!

I cursed the milk you fed me,

I am still unsure you ever nursed me,

But I sure looked for that kind of affection from all the men that held me.

This reality has been crumbling for a while now,

I just wish I find the exist button soon,

To release myself once and for all.

I keep spiraling in and out;

One end has hope of healing and breaking the toxic patterns,

The other end takes me deeper into the rabbit hole.

I keep expanding and shrinking, 

So does my heart and mind,

And this achy body,

Which keeps craving physical affection like an orphaned infant.

I keep longing for the men to mother me,

And I keep mothering all those who dare to love me.

What else is there after all that has been said and done,

But a never healed, always open, damned mother wound!!!

Curse this reality...

Curse this realm...

God have mercy,

Please!

SOS!!!

The vortex

Hassan ghosted me last year

Raniya died earlier this year

Yasmina's still searching for her tribe

And Ali's soul is nowhere to be found from all the spirits attachments!

All I have predicted has happened

I'm sad and grieving and choking

The spirits did indeed win him over

I'm entangled and entrapped because I dared to love

I'm angry at God

I scream and shout 

In total silence 

Why did you bring Ali to me 

Why did you take him away

Why did you take them all away 

Why did you bring me here 

I'm naive and pathetic today 

I'm not going to pray 

Let me burn

Who said I can rescue me 

Who said I could rescue them 

Let it all burn 

And let us all drown 

Let it all be sucked up 

In this most evil and dark vortex 

If you hear this God 

SOS please 

Here we go again 

Hear us here 

We're calling Home 

I know I am 

Won't you please, 

Take me! 

The fire that heats burns too

The sun today was your heart 

And the warmth of your body

The sun was the fire in your grip 

And the light in your face when you smile

Today the sun was my lost companion 

For I have lost you, haven't I?

And perhaps I did before even the illusion 

of having you by my side, you firey thing!

I miss you but I miss me too 

I miss us, I even miss the cringe when we romanced

Except, it never really was that to me,

For you've fit in perfectly with my everything... 

Strangely so.

I only just wished there was a turning down to your anger 

I turned and twirled and whirled to no avail

You lit the damn fire on both us

I can't say I didn't see it coming.

Today the sun shone through but I kept the curtains closed

I didn't want there to be daytime,

Or life 

But now I bask in the faint warmth of the sunset

I plan on going to the park again soon 

Boy won't I miss you!

I pray to the trees from now to take good care of my heart when I do 

I pray for all of nature and all that is Godly to take care of your mind 

And for God to please save your soul 

I love you so, precious one!

Until we meet again, if we ever do.

في أمان الله يا أسمر 

Fires in the fall

I used to know things, and talk.

These days I understand things, and I keep quiet.

What use does the narc have with my incessant telling of the stories of trauma healing, when all it can do is remain on being entraped.

I'll get quiet, and share my silent understanding with it, in that realm of illusional separation it keeps on evading, always submerging in a numbed out reality of ornate fakery and fuckery.

It pretends it's polite, and does nice, but keeps snapping, and losing the maskerade of its calm demeanor.

I was never bragging about my knowledge, I was just always so excited to be sharing, helping, doing this human co-existing on a deep level, but that seems to never be welcome, not four decades ago, not last year, not today.

I sit it in abandoned abundant knowledge and I teach myself more and new ways of humbling, and I get more informed, which humbles me even more. 

Simply put, life has a way of feeling like an eternity of endless days and nights and cycles that keeps on repeating. But I do trust the messages of this timeline, they're telling me to hold still, no action is required anymore. No moving, no movements, just grounding.

I sense the launching is nearing. I'm alert, but at ease.

I was prepared, always have been, all the pain too, it did that very thing, of preparation, and other things too.

I often smile in my aloneness, I bask in endless hours of sunshine, and the most beautiful illusion of solitude, for I am indeed on my own and one with it and them all. 

But write I must, for what a horrible loss it would be not to savour and cherish the moments, and all the in between's.

You can't tame the fire, but you sure can contain it.

Here's to December fire, and the very end of the autumn fires.

Fires in the fall.

Mantis

The mantis is preying, but that is the way of this world; calling things by not what they are or what they actually do. It's a Praying Mantis, so it is, nama stay.

Hearts closing, hearts opening, it doesn't matter what the actions are, as long as the look of it appeals, and fits the description, and the label.

Careful with the aesthetics, mind the appearances, as for the heart of things, it's not allowed to be discussed, only just if and when is needed for the purpose they set out for.

Hide the true nature of things, so the narrative fits in perfectly. Until the time of the big reveal, we stick washi tape to the cracks, call them cute and pretty, and hide behind a labyrinth of ornate words.

Sometimes we're big and mighty, other times small and fragile. Just make sure you check at the beginning of every given moment, and check during the moment itself, for all the shifts and changes, subtle and tiny, or loud and clear.

A hardy, real, and manifesting nature is called masculine ~ or detached. They left out all the other traits for the feminine, and they glorified all of its many toxic aspects. Surrender they tell you, go down, dive deep, stay up, that is the way. Don't you dare tell them there are other ways, they'll outcast you, and call you lost.

And if you don't listen to their words, and if you don't see things their way, you're scapegoated, and called a fool, and the bringer of toxicity in flesh, blood, and soul. 

Fool me once, fool me twice, fool me thrice?!

They whisper in your very soul and tell you that you're desitned to pay all your life for the mistake of not being broken enough, not being saturated enough, not being distorted enough.

They pull at your strings from down below, repeatedly, differently, sporadically.

Snap!

Who got time for this madness,

Heed the call of Spirit.

Amen.

Who knows!

Autumn grace

It happened so fast, I was too preoccupied to savour it. Today though, I'm slowing down. Here is autumn indeed, for I needed my socks and cardigan to be able to sit in my usual morning spot on the terrace. 

It has rained several times already, but I missed all of them, except the very first one, on the evening of September 1st, when I sheltered the kitten. I had decided to foster it earlier that morning and spent the day accomodating it. When the rain came by the evening, I knew it was to be called Ghaith ~ غيث. I was too worked up about its wellbeing that I missed the petrichor, and the small little joys of autumn rain and autumn things, but we're only just starting, so not all is lost.

I fostered Ghaith for 12 days in total. I nursed it back to health, treated it for the ticks and fleas, cleaned it, gave it plenty of milk and food, and a lot of play time and cuddles. It kneeded on all of my body endlessly, most especially my head at night, during my sleep. It especially loved nesting inside my hair and in he nook of my neck. It kept me awake most nights through kisses and purrs. Thought I was rescuing it, it ended up rescuing me; cracked my heart open like it hasn't been for a long time. (That was pain for you, it does horrid things!)

It was my first time fostering a kitten, so young and so fragile, and a street one at that. I was very apprehensive, but we did good, both kitty and I. I needed its trust so I could do the work, it gave it to me, abundantly, and it paid off. 

I thought I could change something in me that would make me enjoy the constant company of a cat - or a kitten, but I was wrong. Some things we can change, some things we can't. I kissed it and thanked it very dearly and gave it away, for it was time for it to go, and for the next phase of healing to start, for us both. 

I was made differently, maybe naturally, and maybe through a series of traumatic events inside of me, still, there was no point trying to normalize myself, in order to start enjoying mundane things like others do - though I desperately needed it. While my nervous system was crying out for small enjoyable things, and small scale everything, simply thinking it or acting it out was just not going to do. I tried, I applied myself, I failed greatly.

While I don't exactly require the company of a cat to thrive, I do however require an abundance of heartfelt gestures from humans, the warmest embraces, the gentlest of touches, and the most genuine and endearing words ~ for mere survival, not just thriving.

That is not possible at the time being, so I will try to remain present with my body instead of failing it, like I'm so accustomed to doing. Try and listen to it as it tells me its stories, where it hurts, where it feels nice, where it needs attending to, where it's ready to serve me and my ambitious actionable plans when the time is right.

It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, in my heart, when Ghaith showed up, and how deeply it stared into my very soul that first night that I had it inside, in my bed, as I was crying away. It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, at my heart, when Yasmina showed up, and laughed and cried, with me and beside me, and at our embrace. It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, in my heart, as I think of the ever so subtle grace hidden in the smallest of acts, facts, faces, and situations. It hurts all over, but feels nice at the centre, in my heart, now as I listen to En Al Andalus on repeat, and stare at the clouded morning sky, and feel the chilled and humid breeze on my skin. 

I had grown so very tired of the weight of the pain I was carrying, I had to put it down, all of it. All the pains inflicted on me, by me, through me. All the pains I was carrying that wasn't mine. I forgave myself, and then forgave all others. I reached out to everyone, I said sorry and thank you. I am not sure how much of it was felt, but at this stage of new level of apocalyptic realm, even if it reaches a tiny forgetful spot in their mind, I'm happy with that. This was the small little act I was capable of. That was what I felt called to do, and make. 

Who cares about stupid employment and cash at this stage, I mean, fuck this existence as they had planned it, I refuse to abide by their rules till my last breath, and one way or another, I know that my acts, thoughts, and stands are going to be fruitful.

If it wasn't to love and grace, I would not have lasted so long on this plane reality. Though every fiber of my being gets exhausted, though I'm fatigued beyond words, though I am suffering from chronic pains, and though mind is beyond exasperated, I hold on to thin threads of hope.

I had spent days and nights recently thinking of absolutely every person I ever encountered, asked their forgiveness, thanked them, and sent them love. 

There was no point in carrying on with life the way it has been lived so far, most especially the grieving period of last year, up until August 31st. I had prayed, numerously, and my prayer was answered, God indeed has helped me close that old chapter. There are new lessons to be learned now, new growth sprouts, new adventures of a different sort. But first, we had some cleaning up to do.

It isn't a one way communication anymore, this prayer thing, it's a dialogue now, we even joke sometimes, God and I. I recall I was writing in my prayer book a while back, towards the end of it I said: Giddy up Goddy! And then laughed and laughed...

Gotta filter this existence through the centre, it could never lead you astray ~ just make sure it's decluttered.

Thank you, for it all, seen and unseen, known and unknown. 

More please,

Amen.

.

.

.

.

جادَكَ الغيْثُ إذا الغيْثُ هَمى"

يا زَمانَ الوصْلِ بالأندَلُسِ

لمْ يكُنْ وصْلُكَ إلاّ حُلُما

"في الكَرَى أو خِلسَةَ المُخْتَلِسِ

Ticks and fleas

You're frustrated at me, how oh how do I bring a street cat into my house!? 

You're disappointed because you had hoped to call in tonight, you've missed me and wanted to see me, it's been a long August indeed, but now you can't, because of the possibly flea infested house. You crack me up, you obsessive maniac!!

Don't you know, that when you're away, doing your thing, like everybody else is, with your people, and your tribes, and your rituals, and routines, that I am usually left alone to my inflamed brain, which keeps leading me astray?!

I am the childless mother, and a motherless kitten called to my heart... I'm only just human after all, take it easy!

We were a match on that September morning, with our achy hearts, shaky bodies, and that same longing and craving, for the touch, warmth, and the belonging.

Her mother abandoned it.

My child abandoned me.

It's not hard to figure, is it?

Do you see it now, how I can't relate to other humans, why I keep to myself, and why my mind is splitting?

My heart got shattered, and I've been trying to put the pieces together ever since. 

It's been a year now since the move, I shall put an end to that specific cycle soon, I promise to do my best, and perhaps, meet you then at your exceptional level of persisting excitement and positivity!

I miss that,

I missed you,

I miss you,

You excentric fool,

You intimidating fuck!

Until we meet again...

P.S: you endured summer me, now you can rejoice, for here comes September, my favourite month of the year, and you're in for a nice surprise, April boy!

The many stages of healing

How much of the ego did you kill today? 

That's how much of healing you've got done.

Kill the mothertucker! 

Crush it.

Show it who's the boss.

It is you.

Your soul is online,

Bring it on!

Heal that achy heart.

Love it, 

For all the love it is capable of,

For all the love it has shared and given,

Love it dearly,

Love it, dearie.

I love you so,

Little girl,

It is I alone this time.

My inner child,

The discombobulated,

The disheartened,

The broken,

The most fragile,

Most sensitive,

Most open,

Most vulnerable,

Most hurt, bruised, damaged,

On the way to restorative healing, Rana.

I love you so.

Don't just read it or hear it,

Feel it in your very damaged bones,

Feel it in the achy cracks of your joints,

Feel it in your utterly inflamed tissues,

Feel it in your broken down nervous system,

Feel it in your inflamed heart,

Feel it in your inflamed brain,

Feel it in all of your organs.

Let it do its job,

Step out of the way,

Just you let it.

It's done,

Amen.

Thank you,

Thank you.

The essence

The mornings have a special taste of freedom. 

They're wild, free, and very rebellious.

They don't bend, they're inflexible. 

Though the days and nights are polluted,

Morning air is always fresh.

When they attempt to break your soul, it's the hardest for them to achieve in the mornings.

Morning sun supports in putting up the fight.

Mornings are real, raw, and very sharp.

You can't mess with the mornings, they mean business.

I'm not hyped about sunsets like most people are, nor do I chase them.

Give me an eternity of sunrises and I'll be as happy as can be. 

When leaving this earth plane and when asked about the best it offered, my answer would be:

Newborn babies, thunderstorms, cold showers, my father's hands, and sunrises...

I'm sitting in my summertime sunrise spot this morning on the terrace, I captured it with a picture. It won't be long before it disappears behind the building. By then, like every autumn and spring, it shines through the opening in the wall facing my front door. I sometimes open the door to let it shine through, but often times, I like to capture its light through the door's peep hole. 

Though we want to consume that which and whom we love completely, it isn't necessary. A fraction of the whole suffices. The rising of the day, a moment in the rising, a bit of sunshine, one casual picture, few moments of contemplation, few long and deep breaths, one heartfelt prayer, one truthful wish, one good-intented action, only one real human being, one heart warming memory!...

Essence is all that's left and kept after each chapter passes. And isn't this whole existence but a mere chapter unfolding and soon to be over so we can turn the page, and write its summary!? 

The curvature

I am frequently asked, and I'm sometimes wondering myself, why is it that I am kept stuck in stagnation ~ freeze mode ~ when that heavy weight that almost broke my back and I've been carrying for nearly two decades is there no more. 

One answer can be like this one that came to me today: that curve in my back, the pains and stiffness in my bones, joints, and muscles, the closing off of my chest, heart, neck, and voice, have all been going for so long that simply straightening up won't just do. 

My body isn't recognizing that the weight isn't there anymore to carry, and my mind isn't registering the change. As to my heart, well that's too long a story for now.

Another answer is this: when the cancer that has grown so big inside the body causing so much pain for so long has been removed, the pain isn't simply taken away with it. The body still aches where the growth once was, it takes a very long time for it to adjust and to start healing, if at all it does.

When a prisoner is released from his prison, freedom doesn't necessarily register as that in the prisoner's system, and often times, the prisoner fails at adjusting to life outside of his cell.

What I have wrongly considered for so long liberation was my imprisonment, and what I thought of as entrapment was freedom itself. 

This healing the mind and attending to the heart thing keeps going, and in fairness, I don't think there is a near end to it, though the soul is longing for release.

In the meantime, I'm learning still to communicate with my body, try to tell it things, try to listen to what it's telling me too, for I had abused it quite a bit as I prioritized other beings, other things.

Another thought was this: if I consider my body a separate entity from me, then perhaps I'm able to start recognizing its own limits, and both our boundaries (it and I), and respecting them. By so doing, starting to honour it, attending to its needs, and putting it first. 

Just another thought, there is no one answer. 

Time will tell, 

and hopefully it heals!?...

(that too is perhaps just another thought)