Like an explosion, unpredictable, digging hard through my veins, insatiable, stacking rough in my brain, unfathomable, drowning deep into the heart, such like an explosion.

Quiet but furious and outrageous. It is stucked in my throat, stiff and firm and I am unable to move, to articulate the spell.

I recalled another rule of life, avoid falling in the extremities, for they will destruct your inner balance.

I fancy the rare, unfetchable things, I fancy the warm glow of my silk scarf and the light ray of my misty morning. I fancy all the small things i used to have while i was denied in the uncomprehensible world of nothingness…



« To live means to constantly shift colors »

To simply exist without over thinking and being firm in your perspectives, your soul need to be flexible and tuned.

I was grabbed by an ill mood during this period. Allowing my mind to fill in the silence gaps, I felt lost in my shadowy room.

I couldn’t decipher my bizzare reactions and how I ended up the way I am right now. Fully exasperated and desperate. I looked deeply into the incident in vain. I still feel that ache in my bottom and a sudden chill pass across my body.

Teared by two incomprehensible feelings, I am sorry and angry for the things I let them happen to me. How do I repent? How do I correct my mistakes? How shall I behave? These thoughts are housed in my nervous mind with no reply. I see myself as guilty but I it’s hard to say sorry, I even didn’t get used to it.

Blaming my self to the point of self-resentment, I find it urget to clear up everything and start with an inner purification. This can only be achieved by a motherly, warm and tender reinforcement making me strong and capable of overcoming lifes’ misfortunes and failures. Cause I take reponsability of my acts and words, I shall never allow my myself to ruin my peaceful state of mind.

The most thing that worries me is the future in terms of my decisions and my actions. I find consolation in the words of Allah, in His perfect judgements and rules. The path to Truth is complicated and I am striving to figure it out through the words of my consolator, my merciful protector. One day, I will learn how to be mindful and to shif colors to live!



Some scattered words 

How a superior spirituel drive can transand you to a boundless and relinquished mood of deep meditation and recognition.

I uncaged myself from every rule suffocating me and unlocked my mind of all the misperfections hovering over my spirit and set myself free!

I still have those deep yieldings for loneliness in which I find consolation and redemption. I still mourn all the old times when I was innocent but I do not regret missing them.

I only regret the time I couldn’t recognise my dreams and my realities which ended me up to a closed resolution. My resolution is to recatch those treasured times and revive them in a way that makes able to live them again and call for their return.

The past is stuck in my inhales and in every inch of my skin, I cannot escape from its intimidation nor can I forget its grey misty savour.. I cannot deny its cruelty nor can I deny the strength it granted to me. It is my ruiner as well as my savior and I still praise all the soft and harsh effects it raised on me.

With love..

Traces of ache!

The ache in my chest is solid; I can feel it digging hard in my heart. My brain races round and round echoing the sound of tic tac tic tac and my heart pounds loud and loud and I am once again falling asleep in this unfathomable daydream.

I kept asleep, unconscious of my unconsciousness. I kept alarmed and cautious of my pain. A flash of intense pain and ache run through my body when I remember what I don’t want to.

I get bored with all of this and the rubbished kind of my life. As if my lungs cannot breathe in the air and my chest is blocked by a thick and harsh agony. The words are vanishing evaporating from my tongue and I am no longer able to spell, to articulate, to burst!

This impalpable and bitter emotion is stuck in my throat unable to move to come out to free me. I cannot swallow; it feels hard and uncomfortably dry. The hole inside of me is deep and full of shattered hopes and dreams.

A shadow of blackness comes across my mind and I feel dump, dull, dizzy. I don’t feel good; I don’t feel well in anyway. I need to cry with all the strength of my voice. I need to scream in the faces of those admonishing me.

I lie down on my bed and sigh under the duvet and seize the moment. When I try to catch the memory it just drifts away from my reach. I wipe my tears away from my cheeks instantly.



Sunday is raining


When my mouth is set in a straight line

I try to understand

Why I have to say something

I ask myself, if the raining would shut up and let me out

But I have nothing to say

When my mind buzzes with past, old, unwanted thoughts

Whenever I try to speak loud

My tongue is knotted, I cannot spell the word

I am suffocated, I am cut under the spell

My brain is frozen but my fingers are stretched

I asked my blank page to say something, to speak, to write what I can’t


In the vain

My coffee is cold now and I am too nonchalent to make another one

I read the paper, the news got me frustrated, I throw the paper

I put on the music stereo, I dance randomly, I don’t follow the rythm

I spit on the ground, I taste awful, I hit the ground by my feet

I write on the blog, I look for words, I cannot find the words

I spit on the ground, I wrapped my hair like a ponytail

I hate cold mornings, I hate frozen food as well

Mom makes me another coffee, mom caresses my head, momy’s hands are gentle

I love my mom’s hands, I love the smell

I check my email, I cannot find new emails, I feel dull

I close my laptop, I close the door, I eat the frozen food

I spit on the ground, I hit the ground, I taste awful, I unlashed my hair




My Winter’s Thrall

Intimidated by Winter’s silence which is suffocating me and all of the evil ghosts hovering in the grey evening sky.

The howling of wind intensifies my solitude and the dim scars of my memories drown me in my bleak desolation.

The naked trees, the gloomy clouds, the wet birds, the fierce waves are wondering at nature’s bareness agonizing me slowly.

Then I find my escape in admiring the barren silence of this misty winter by exposing my inner conflicting pursuits.

I embrace my winter’s grip while hiding my yearnings for bloossom and blooming.

But if I do not appreciate this mysterious, puzzling, empty moment I can never welcome the beauty of my coming season.

For my redeemption from this cursed darkness, I will cherish my bitter sweet winter trills