Born Confused

My status “They are the heart broken lovers dancing on the glass they broke, their spit in each others mouths hoping to choke.”

PEEP: is that an original composiion
*composition
me: They are the heart broken lovers dancing on the glass they broke, their spit in each others mouths hoping to choke. Needle in the eye, stoke in the heart–only empathy and forgiveness will heal and leave them apart.
err, it’s not empathy is it
PEEP: *stake
me: ?
strook?
PEEP: stake in the heart?
me: i what the word for not caring
want*
instead of empathy
PEEP: apathy
me: apathy
yeah
PEEP: how can you have forgiveness with apathy
you have to care to forgive…
me: becuase not caring is the opposite of love and hate
to forgive is simply to write off
and not to gain anything from it
it’s turely a god-given thing
besides that
stroke?
pain of the heart?
heart attack
did I spell that right?
PEEP: yeah
but you cannot forgive without love
me: which one stake or stroke do you think?
umm, then maybe i should put foget
forget*
PEEP: yeah
it’s much easier to forget than forgive
me: cynical composition isn’t it? I am sure you liked the first one more
PEEP: stake makes more sense
yes
quite cynical
what is this an allusion to
me: it depends if forgiving and/or forgetting heals
more then the other
but I suppose but can heal, si?
both*
PEEP: not really
if you forget without forgiving
you’re not really healing
just burying your feelings and anger
you haven’t eradicated them
me: or it just dies off
you don’t really care
PEEP: but it can be reawakened at any time
and apathy is the death of the spirit
me: unless you go through something where apathy keeps your spirit alive
PEEP: yeah but
it should be a transitional stage at most
me: forgiveness in such cases isn’t tangible
PEEP: yeah but that’s just procrastinating
putting off summoning the courage to forgive
me: but I suppose I am talking in extreme cases–and I don’t feel courage has anything to do with it–somethings are simply unforgiveable
but back to the composition
the lovers
perhaps the orginial was best then
becuase they still feel or then they wouldn’t hate
PEEP: no case is too extreme for forgiveness
yes, hate is the antithesis of apathy
Sent at 1:32 PM on Wednesday
me: go through rape and then come back to me and say that no case is too exterme for forgiveness
and i put apathy in the compostion b/c yes it is the opposite
PEEP: the most beautiful man who ever lived was stoned near to death and humiliated in a way no animal ever was
and had the option of crushing a whole city between mountains
and yet he forgave
Sent at 1:35 PM on Wednesday
me: most women rather die
PEEP: the greater the pain, the greater the reward for finding peace
this does not mean you don’t seek justice
or that the proper punishment is laid down
I think all rapists should be castrated and left to bleed to death
but
with justice must come peace of mind, heart, and soul
and ultimately that only comes with forgiveness
not for the action
but forgiveness with the hope that God will guide them to the light
me: I have no true sentiment that such evil doers find ease ever
could you ever forgive Hitler?
PEEP: Hitler is dead
me: Honestly, could you?
PEEP: and so, no, I cannot forgive him
me: if he was alive
if you were in a camp
PEEP: you’re not seeing what I’m saying
me: I feel you’re being idealist to absurdity
PEEP: then tell me what you think of the prophet’s example
me: I feel it’s different. But because I am not sure why –just yet–I shall yield to you for now and keep the original composition: “they are the heart broken lovers dancing on the glass they broke, their spit in each others mouths hoping to choke. Needle in the eye, stake in the heart–only empathy and forgiveness will heal and leave them apart.”

“Tears for what I never knew
Of love and how it’s won”
This struck as truth as darkly as the sun, in your song of torment and angst and feelings robust—when we think we are old we are simply young; feeling worn and overcome. It is because we feel so strongly, so forward and then undone—when we feel patience’s lesson we’re stung. So now our laughter is loud, our tears bittersweet proud. Savor deeply this period of pain, God’s magic, inspiration and rain.

I cluck my teeth, my cheeks swell, muscles tense, as this Spanish guitar brings tears from a deep well. Exquisite, stunning and angst comes in a form of a sensual dance as rain pours outside, vivid green strucks the eyes as damp thin clothes—cold, demise—stick to skin reminding of a fragile existence and a shivering state. Dark wet curls. The weightlessness of goosebumps. Venerable and still and yet howl and singing mix like a beautiful hell. Exotic strange and yet Allah gave this capacity—this width of feeling breathe of stir—too much feeling now I fall asleep on floor.

Tis halal, excessive nutella gives me a stomachache but loving the sweet through the love of Allah leaves me wanting more. As I convert primal and instinctual urges into something more to oppress the forbidden inside. A flame dies down as smooth chocolate moves in the cheeks, swirling in a swollen mouth of happiness, ready to burst with a blessed curse.
chocolatebeliever.blogspot.com/

The river starts out small in the mountains selfish, cold and small, however clear and beautiful to marveled at it’s purity. Ice tis is. The sun, slowly exposes it and a drop mixes into the earth nurturing plants as it’s root cells attach to the H20 b/c of an baffling love of the water for baboons love the flies they pick for lunch. Sustainability. And the drops move into waters and thus into streams guarded heavily by mother trees and get are excused or going down slippery slops. It inaugurates more water, more plants, more rocks, more organisms, more leptons—hadrons—quarks! All in the mathematical dance of flames dawn. The stream–you– recoils, flinch, shrinks, and a froth is born, and rapids are worn, and the rocks are placed and mistakes are made. Arrogantly we think we are a sage and then suddenly the drop is introduced and life has undergone a coup. The waterfall comes and a secret is instilled and we pray on the Last Day we will not be billed. Angry we can be, for hurt inflicts us, bittersweatlovehurthappiness is with us, The question is whilst we be in sajood in the rapids and calm waters? Will we be able to see through the water that carries us to the ocean—our ultimate destination? Will we see Allah’s embrace, His presence all around us like the water, God is the water. Will we bow deeply in the water and hear moving water’s silence as our tears of pain—of salt are carried away and eased until we feel melchanoy, happy, hurt, knowingly content and pleased. Kindly on our knees—leveled with the part stolen from our heart and replaced with a godly smart: selfless, patience wisdom.
now I must depart.

BWHAHAHHAAHA

Your body’s been abused– raped, your deen and heart confused. My dear sister, Allah is with you all the way. My love, for you dear sister, increases day by day. I feel the sorrow and dispear but I know the darkness makes the light so white. A weird calmness takes over,for overwhelmed with thoughts, emotions and forced to go through the motions. The Qur’an a light we share to comfort and ease the soul of a hurtful blight. We listen together, sister and sister, separated by distance but united fisabilah. And listen to Surah Rahman, reciting in a voice that sooths, comforts, and eases like warm slippery waves and breezes; it’s brings out humanity and despite the evil, I feel this kinship, this care, a beauty of sisterhood in the midst of a scare as our love and emotion brings out sanity of dear old flawed, beautiful humanity.

I feel the hurt you feel, I see the beatenings you steal–my heart aches for you–it does and i sympathize fully for you remind me of what was. hold your heart steady and still place your foreward in sajood’s embrace and feel the soft bittersweat case; of putting all your trust in the One wholly based on overwhelming faith–while asking refugee from angers and hurts bait. All I can do is remind, but if I can by the will of Allah (swt), ease your mind and heart–there’s a sad joy within being honored to play this part.

friend (3:35:28 AM): haha, MSA eat out too much
me (3:35:37 AM): muslims=food
friend (3:35:42 AM): haha agreed
me (3:35:52 AM): what do the girls do?
friend (3:35:58 AM): breakfast
friend (3:36:00 AM): haha
me (3:36:10 AM): you guys do dinner
me (3:36:11 AM): wow
friend (3:36:14 AM): haha yeah
me (3:36:30 AM): i would never wake up for that
me (3:36:41 AM): I would go to lunch with the hijiras
friend (3:36:54 AM): haha

Salaam

Ever notice once you join an MSA. *SPAM*

“I need a lotta”

“Are we selling lottas?”

“We need more henna for iftra, Ayla forgot that it was Ramadan and ate it all”

EKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!

And everyone responses!!

RE: “I need a lotta”
Salaam (LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLL)

Brother, you can borrow mine *giggles*

–sexihijab4u

RE: “Are we selling lottas?”

As3salamalaykumwarath9matullahbarak0tuhu

Ya3ni Lil7 A7hmed discolored them during the camping retreat4, mis6taking them for the “hol8e in the floor”

As3salamalaykumwarath9matullahbarak0tuhu

234567u8dont4know1what5i23say45brother

RE: “We need more henna for iftar, Ayla forgot that it was Ramadan and ate it all”

Salaams yo

we can just replace henna with taboo–I mean–tattoos yo.

beace