Writings, ideas and “whatevers” of Kareem Henein

Emotions

Sick

Playing the same song over and over again, the sound of the 80s music is transing my brain into a comfortable hold. I am finally living with my sickness in public, and by public I mean between myself and me. I never thought things will end up where they did. I barely remember what year this one is.

The viruality of modern life has rendered life distant, giving you a tasteless illusion while robbing you of your time. Governments are chasing drug dealers and smugglers, but the worst addiction of them all is right under their noses. Mankind has agreed to permit few long term addictions that can unnoticeably rob life of its essence. Thinking makes me ill, love makes me sick while death is the only meaningful relief. I need to die and live once again, …


Revive

The warmth of the sun softly heated the skin of my face as I weakly breathed. Another revived from the stillness of death. I slowly opened my eyes to the brightness of the skies after such a long dark sleep. My senses are keen for life though my body has been frozen for decades. Faint beat is hope, yet loud is the fear. I have seen the worse of life, nothing can scare me now. If my worst fears were a broken heart then I believe it wont be broken beyond how it is now. But wait, I am revived. Things are different now. Way much different.

That which was broken is now whole. Him who was once rejected is now the desire of many. He we was never mentioned is now existing . He who was worried is now free. He breathes; walks and smiles.


Home of Serpents

I never expected that my home, is the cave of my enemies. The ones I helped in times of need, stood for when I was called and walked many ways just to help and support. Stabbed in the back, betrayed, lied to, ignored, disrespected and envied. Now the things I have are the center of conflict while everything I had I used to serve them all. If they would switch places and things they would know they were the lucky ones. But it seems like the eye never has enough, and the envious is never satisfied! What did I do to deserve all that? Where is my guilt? My heart aches. One day I will go and shall never return. Would it matter? I am already out. I am their enemy, their envy, their rival.  Doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t.


Egypt

It has been a while now, and I feel so confused. Not about a certain thing in particular but a mood of confusion. I wake up, sleep, chat, eat and do everything mindlessly. It is becoming harder and harder to wake up! like my head has been inside a giant ringing bell! Even when I sit to write I feel so distracted. All things that I don’t get to do I daydream. Obviously I am being suppressed by my circumstances and surrounding. Cairo is the most demonic place on earth, seriously. Egypt is nothing but a big senseless joke! It’s nothing but a big prison and a trap to all kinds of talent. It’s a land of slavery to everything good and natural. Justice, religion, society and even business is nothing but a big scheme. I watched all talents who left for other countries and returned very successful. Killing potential is a hobby for the chair owners. Egypt has been as ever, the pharaohs were considered the sons of the gods! and even died to join the gods, untouchables and ever right! Everybody else is a worthless slave unless the pharaoh wants him to be honored. When pharaohs died they were buried with their officials by their side, yes, killed. Egypt was always a fantasy land for all who seek godhood! Egyptians are worthless, numerous as insects and replaceable as grass.

Though it’s a cheap country compared to many others yet it’s hard to earn enough to feed myself. Though our currency is no where on the charts but I can’t still afford to maintain a roof over my head. How can I succeed while I can hardly survive? No one cares about you in Egypt, the government treats us as an over populated burden that they want to get rid of in a way or another. Building their fucking pyramids, piling up gold and treasures, sucking our blood for a juice! May all of them rot in hell and spend eternity in hades!

And through all this I struggle to rise, fight to be and strive to survive. My greatest victory is to succeed, my revenge is to escape their grasp, my true triumph is when they start bragging that I was an Egyptian. I don’t really care for Egypt no more, her nakedness is much uglier than anything I have ever seen. Perverted ignorant country! May you burn in hell!


Definitions

It was known from the folds of the past that there were two worlds. The world of the living, and that of the dead. There has always been a defiintion, dominant through out our cultures that we are the world of the living, and those in their graves and the ghosts of the abhored are the world of the dead. I have seen mummies that walked the streets, and ghosts more vivid than those of a young earthly age. The flesh has decayed, whithered away. Ashes are on motion and dirt slurring around. I have been to the world of the living and witnessed the world of the dead. Engulfed the essence of both worlds. Gained knowledge of life and death. Embraced warmth and stiffened by the dark. I have changed the definition of life for myself, and soon I will change it for you too. Does plants have hope? Do they thrive on knowledge? Do they feel pain? Though they are the secret of air, and a giver of life to all others. I have seen trees more generous and tender than mothers. I have seen people more hurting than cactus. There is nothing of what we are living that is true any more. All we know is a fake and a big lie! A father is the one who seeds a child yet now fathers are the ones who pay for a donation of sperms. What’s wrong with people these days? Humans have abandoned nature by their fanatic blind grip to religions that barely hold to their ancient truths. Has sex become unholy after all? Didn’t God create us as sexual creatures in the first place? Why weren’t we created like one cell organisms, reproducing with mitosis, splitting to become more? There is a way much deeper meaning to sex than just spending the night or having some private fun. It’s way much deeper but you ignorant selfish animals are nothing close to that! What the Juice!? I wont teach you any more secrets, I will only reveal your sick nakedness.


End of story

People want things, things satisfy people.

Everyone seeks something, if it’s something you have then they take it and as soon as it’s in their hands, the are long gone. If this thing they want is you, then they possess you and cripple you till they make sure you go nowhere, making sure you need them and can’t live without them. They call this love sometimes and other times selfishness, depending on who’s side the judge is and what crimes has he committed before! We are all humans, right? We need and crave things. I guess I don’t have to be judgemental in my tone but I don’t care maybe this is my problem, bear it as much as you bear all things. It’s a very stupid game and is not interesting anymore. People run to you, you smile and then they act nice, you enjoy it then the next thing you know is that they take what’s in you topcket and they walk away. “Thank you very much really” isn’t that what I am supposed to say? well not any more. I will be rude for once in my life. That’s the end of the story.


She will nerver understand…

She will never understand. Though ages have past and distances have put us a part, winter and that cold senseless snow, silent winds upon the desert sand, unstoppable heat of the blinding sun, long nights of solitude; something still brings her image to my mind. I love without want, smile without hope and dream but not hold. A road that winds, twists and curls around into an endless maze of questions, anger and doubt and still; my feet push me further. I don’t know where I will end up or when will I come to a closure. I know of nothing no more, not certain of anything as I go not even sure if i care how it all ends, I just hope it ends; all of it. I never thought love could bring such despair, but I’m sure it does. A black tree on a river shore slowly drips poison into the streaming water down hill to a bright green meadow. Curses of a blessing and tears of joy, blinding light and too much goodness. Wisdom comes with more burdens and right brings pain. Why does it all seem so bad? and why does all good come out of all that is wretched and sad? I have become silent when I learned, quiet when I understood, mute when I perceived. And so I open my grip to that which I though would preserve my life as I flow, rush and go with the torrent. This time I let you go.. still, you will never understand.


No Sugar

Apparently life has become severely misshapen into a concrete lockup with wires for air and electricity for food. Men have become slaves to their own dreams, and freedom turned to be just the autonomy of ones lockup. Ironic how the natural views light up our computers and open our appetite for more time on our desks.

Today I had a walk under the bright moonlight, it’s been a while now since I last saw the skies, trees and those dangling leaves. I found a lot of things there, all sorts of beauty and splendor. Meditating as I walked along I met someone I haven’t seen for a long time.. God.

Reviewing the past and what I went through I then realized that the greatest curse that the people are bound to is “City Life”. It is nothing different than that movie “The Matrix”. People are nothing different than machines no more. It’s one of those heart breaking truths.

I don’t expect to meet God again in captivity, I know where He is now. In nature, within the creatures He had pleasure to mold and the beings He delights in. Those silent trees praise him louder than churches today, night and day they do. That breeze proclaims His message way much more than a thousand missionary, The earth speaks of wisdom far beyond our philosophers and teachers. Man is such an ignorant thing, in his eyes he doesn’t know he is a part of all this beauty. Man fights, destroys and hosts all evil within his heart. Man hurts man and isolates himself from all other creatures and being including the Creator. Man, who was created for all this glory is now a pot spilling down the shame.

Today I saw more than I learnt, I felt all that I wasn’t been told about. I will take a trip and I don’t care where it will lead me.


To Hideous Cairo

Dear Cairo,

You turned to be nothing but a ditch of filth in the middle of a miserable river. You are nothing but a bringer of death and disease to a nation of pathetic passives who have nothing in mind other than their false hopes and drunken dreams! The are good enough for you but you will never be good enough for them. The only ones you are nurturing are roaches and rats and even those are looking for a path out of your sewers. I wish I was a general! I would have razed you off the map and wiped off your traces from the land. I would have scattered your people and annihilated all your filthy animals. You are so desperate you can hardly devour your food. You never long for rain to cleanse you for rain that falls upon you is acid and dirt. You hopeless city, I will no longer linger in your jammed roads or your choking streets. I will pack my clothes and flee your misery. You are a shame and a disgrace to humanity and definitely the guilt of Egypt. You are the result of all their failures but I wont stay to be the result of your incompetence. I hope I never see you again you dead wretched witch.


I AM SICK

The paradox of me has gotten up to the roof of my brains. I am so tired of myself, such contradiction and strife between a 17th century royal version of me and a barbaric caveman lingering in the woods hunting for prey! When I do good, I’m not satisfied and when I do bad I’m feeling guilty. Nothing is pleasurable and nothing is tasteful. Life is so lukewarm now, and not just lukewarm it is freakin’ boring!

Man is such a wretched being! He is no animal and he is no angel. Not a creature of moment nor a being of eternal purposes. He hangs in there not reaching this nor that. Like a shirt in the washing machine round and round is up and down and at the end he will never know where he goes. I am tired of thinking, more tired of feeling and right now I’m done with writing.


Living with parents and facts of depression.

Apparently I live with my parents and apparently I am not happy about it. I’m 30 years now and expecting to be 31 after couple of months and the fact that I still live with my family bugs me. Not just that I haven’t achieved my financial independence, but also the fact that they add on more emotional burdens on me by not believing in what I do. No understanding whatsoever of my work and not the nature of it. They have their own worry list and not working for a while is a strong trigger for them worries. I don’t think I am in a time of my life where I need someone to worry about me or my life as much as I need someone to believe in me and trust me. Whatever, all of this adds up to the pressure I am in. Recently I have reached the phase of “Numbana” nothing really feels. All I do is engage my mind into endless calculations till I am so weary to open my eyes and read. Doesn’t really matter any more, I feel sick.


Apathetic Immersion

Standing in the middle of a busy Cairo squares, in stillness and solitude. Average egyptians rushing by in pursuit of their mandatory achievements recklessly disturb my fixed gaze into the heat of the day. Like puppets they flow into the streets lashed in their ways by the ruthlessness of their masters who in turn are pushed around by the selfishness of their lords who in turn are controlled by those behind sight and common knowledge. I see strings, lots of them everywhere. I know, and the more I do the more apathetic I become. Forced to be involved in a pattern, a crowd of fools, and party of lunatics. Counted one, but I am none. Those helpless waters that flood down hill and push on all that’s in its path is only a natural flow downhill. Such chaos is a result of steep inclination towards a past image that was never there nor will ever be; a deceiving image of perfect goodness. An image that is nothing but a mask to all the hatred of a proud race thrusting after the flags of them evil devisions of the fallen. My time is a time of silence, where I would watch and observe but soon there will be a time that is so different than now. A time where words would be spoken through the work of my hands, a message and a rebuke. Time when my flag is raised for all to follow and others to fear. Who would ever think that the silent one will speak so loud; or the still would be so vibrant? But the ways of wisdom is far beyond the understanding of them drunkards, them whom are twice drunk, once by ignorance and twice by deceit. Apathetic I am, for the shallow.. and for now.


That absurd choice (2)

Years ago I left home on a quest and a journey far away from home. Away from my comfort and familiar zone I walked; step by step the distance grew so far that I now do not know see the past any more when I look over my shoulder. I am one of the few visionaries left to wander across the swirls of time. One of those who follow whispers and faint voices, signs and marks of time. I meditate on ancient wisdom, one was given to man by the grace of the Giver, Him, the Sole Maker of all beings. And though I go like fools sometimes yet He guides my steps. I look like a fool to the fools, wise to the wise and crazy to the needy in heart yet no one knows how do I make it happen. They all wonder how I go this far, where no one expected me to. I speak highly of myself because I am happy. Though stricken by all sorts of torments yet I witness that plant grow before me. Observing every little detail of its change. To some I waste my time, to others I am the waste of time, but in me I know who and what I am. I am not dream chaser, nor am I disillusioned. I cant hold words with my hands and touch those whispers, I was given to see beyond the eyes and beneath skin, through matter and along time. As much as I am given, a lot is required of me. I chose to accept the call along with the burden that comes along with it. I might have chosen a normal life, a fun fun fun sad sometimes beat but I chose something else, the different adventure that would form me a very different type of hero. I worry not. My Writer knows how this story will end.


Doing or not

I lie because my words of truth end up nowhere. I decided to cover them up into the sheets of time and space, Never changing what is true but keeping it off those blinded eyes. The is no place in their minds to hear my faithful whispers and there is not a chance there would ever be. Those seek posters and head lines, figuring out books by them covers but i have no cover and no poster. My eyes hide so much and they do not show a thing but some sense it within the tones of my voice and those who knew me long enough to find out what I conceal. And yet I choose to keep it all inside where they belong. My secrets belong to myself where I alone would keep them from public exposition. It’s really hard cause a secret has a very high potential to be shared and is like hot cakes to the ears, but after that it turns to be a scandal then a reputation is ruined. Just like a woman, when young she wants to be loved and whenever she finds the right mate she gets pregnant after that she gives birth to another being. No wonder why women like secrets for it is only a reflection to themselves. A man is different, a trouble maker an initializer, a change maker, a creator. He starts it all and regrets every little thing he does though it was his initial will. I regret all the things I have done for all I did was evil and wicked an nothing was pure that came out of me. But for all the good that came out of me I know it wasn’t me. He Is a Spirit that longs to do good through me. Whenever I surrender to Him Spirit, All that I do turns to be good. Maybe I’m mistaken but I don’t think so. Whenever I take things into my own hands and will they turn to be the most wicked thing ever. Test yourself and see my words to be true. Surrender and see. Maybe I should do that myself.


He was

He gently pushes the door open, slowly he runs his eyes across the busy cafe. It is loud with music and chitchats of teens and young people. He heads to his favorite stool at the corner, facing those big window that views the narrow busy street. He puts his bag, climbs up the stool and starts looking outside the window, people walking, couples and cars. reflections showing the people behind his back. His eyes get lost in those intersecting images. His mind is not clear for his heart is troubled. He has a question that only one could answer. He knows that looking for the answer would risk him his dearest. He doesn’t take risks any more. Like war veterans he chose to wear his last war outfit. Though it never covers his old scars, it yet honors his sacred duty. He is the most awarded for giving himself up for those who never new his name, and even those who did, yet forgot. A man could stay locked in the peek of his time, a moment where the world ended for him, where eternity touched that instance of time. A moment when the sound of his heartbeats sound no more. Turning points could be the end of a man’s life sometime. He is what he was.


Define me

Today, Driving by on the main stream bridge in the usually busy city of Cairo. I passed by a car with a young couple in it. The guy was busy trying to avoid his car getting bumped again while the young lady leaned back and rested her head and was far asleep. She was sweating and so uncomfortable, I could tell that as I passed by and saw her eyebrows quarreling together. And then I came back inside the walls of my mind and asked myself. Why? Why does life turn to be such a vesicle of tragedy? I had images of suffering and unease show in my mind. Why would one choose to live with another? Why pay the price? Why do? Why be? Why live? why breathe? Why suffer? Why Struggle? What is it that pushes you to live? And why Dream?! How come people are restless? Who has the answers? Who plants the questions within? It’s so silly I write all this even.

“Life is a tragedy” said Lady Fantasy
“Fantasy is unrealistic” said Life
“Both of you make me who I am” said sir Tragedy

Marriage is such a scary decision. Commitment is such a burden. Loneliness is far more worse, It pushes two to make a scary decision and endure such burden. Whoever falls into the web of loneliness gets addicted to the daydreams of fantasy. Life is instability and constant change, Life? What is it? What is death? If a soul lives forever, then is there really something called death? If there is no death, then what is Life now? Or is death just another level of life? Another place for eternity? What is everything? Who am i?

I guess it all boils down to that last question.. Who am I? What am I? Define me


In wait of an appointed time

It’s been long since I tapped in my feeling into this cold cyber world of nonsense. God I’m so rude! Sorry I’m just not feeling well. Spring, my favorite season of depression in Egypt. Spring here is mostly like summer but even worse, It’s also comes up with southern sand storms that are so terrible.

The Kingdom of Egypt is so struck in the spiritual realm by spirits of stupidity and lust. And I thought Egypt was a pure place but really it is not. I guess after my trip to New York city I know this is a bloody mess here. Anyway, my dream stands but hardly holds on to faith.

O God, O God; why did you show me that vision? Like you said to John, It would be sweet in your mouth but bitter inside you. O Yes, it sure is! How sweet were the words, the promises and the hope, but it’s so bitter to live for such fulfillment day by day. After such knowledge, reality becomes worse and life becomes unbearable, a burden and a very heavy yoke. And You LORD, You know. You have made me in such a way and changed my form in such a manner that puzzles my understanding. You know what You have put inside me, That which I don’t understand but know so well. You know what triggers me and have set a time for me to do what I should. What I saw and what I long for. If it was not for that Bitter Sweet Purpose I wouldn’t have come here and if You ever take it away from my book then put me to sleep with my fathers. I shall not ask for the time nor for You to rush things up for I know such knowledge is for You and is sealed from the ears of men. And though You pierce me, I shall wait. I know all will be in it’s due time. All will be.


Earth

I am seriously starting to hate this planet. Nations lead by gamblers and people driven by lunacy. Really tired of retarded minds and carnal cultures. I hate everything and everyone, all that I see and hear. I am sick of what I sense and touch, all that I taste and smell. Nothing is new and nothing is good. I believe it’s so scary for people to believe we might be the only specie in this universe! Imagine, the disappointment all the UFO believers would feel when they know that all the life in this universe is our responsibility! Imagine the burden of the responsibility the leaders of this world would feel. How many dreams would shatter knowing that there is no place to live beyond earth. Imagine the rage and panic environmentalists would go through trying to clean up earth. Haa! Sometimes the human race hopes in some fiction story in hope that one day we would skin out our pains and fears. Why do I care?! I don’t! the only problem is that all this world’s filth has gotten into me.


The moon triggered me

I have never seen the moon this beautiful before. Though incomplete yet I stare at it’s amazing beauty, its solitude, it’s silence. Through a little opening in my window I was touched by its soothing light, I was thinking how much I needed a woman’s hug, her warmth and care. After all life’s disappointments I look for a place to rest my head and feel I am taken care of. A woman I could trust with my life. My mind stops me, while my heart pushes me. I know times, and appointments, I know patience, trained for long years. Now the moon is gone again, leaving it’s image in this dream in my head and some scattered words on the internet. I wish I could sleep again, dream again, rest again and die again.


Valentine’s day blues

I was drifted away again today, the people seem so far, the sounds sound so faint. Memories are closer to me than dreams, and sadness pushes hope away. Where I have been and when, is why I am what I am now. Within me I am so disappointed in the world of men. Friendships are as pale as a washed away color, Lovers are so unreal as a fairy tale could be. I question all my feelings and doubt all my thoughts. Was it real? Ever? I sometimes reach a place where I don’t know what’s real from what’s not. Consciousness is a slow moving dream, distances stretch. I am no gentleman, I am a savage wild animal caught in the shackles of pretension. I live to act, not do. Ah how I miss a dream, where I could be who I really am. This world lies to itself twice, once to others and twice to itself. Everybody is caught in this swirling wind of deceit and none dare to face the solid truth. A solid brick that puts a stop to all motion and time. I hit, faint yet now I see. What is life? love? What is the time we are given here? why? We tend to ignore awareness for sake of survival, thought as the clock ticks it witnesses the shortening of the time given. Don’t wake up to such bitter reality, keep sleeping in your sweet time slipping dream. Watch the water slip through your fingers, watch that breeze fly by. Is it your life or mine? Does mine make a difference to you? well, your’s matter to me anyway. In one of those instances to one of those beings I would really want to ask only one a question.. Did you ever love me? Whatever the answer is and no matter what I think It will answer my real question.. Was I real?


A Whispering Dead.

I have become so thin, so pale and faint. I am an image of smoke, a whisper and a still scent. My color is not to be defined and my taste is so mild. I am, am not. I drink and am drunk. I long to fly and yes I do. I was pierced and torn and scarred, pressed down and crushed. My breath was squeezed out of me, my life was snatched and pulled away. All that I am was buried long ago, alive I was but time outrun me. I was forced to dissolve, pushed to be consumed by nature and forced to disperse my being into the stillness of the soil. Roots sucked me in and I was no more.

The Life I saw and the way I went turned me into something, not someone. Stripped me of my identity and deleted my name. I became nothing, yet i am. Though I was blindfolded, chained, castrated, torn apart and burnt to carbon, reduced to my elements; I go to places no one can, I talk and listen to secrets few know about, I breed an offspring that no one can seize, I move things nothing else can. I am no ghost but yes I have become one.

I brag, to him who reads, but deep inside I mean it not. If my heart was ever felt, pride wouldn’t be found there. But how could it be ever felt? It’s so faint like a smoking thread, of a whispering dead.


Shooting at Sharm

It’s been a week now here, shooting with a new crew and cast. It’s a casino, with a lot of half naked girls. A lot of proud actors and malicious filmmakers, a few are good in heart though. I am so tired, had some serious food poisoning along with many other crew members, cast and extras. My feet hurt so bad, sore and worn out. Bad shoes, bad pain, fortunately enough I will get paid tonight and tomorrow I will get me some shoes and a jacket.

Emotionally I am so worn out, my heart is pierced with a pike. I feel as if I don’t feel anything at all. Numb. It’s just normal for a guy like me. I always feel so and it’s no surprise I guess I am used to it. Sometimes I feel that I will never get married or have a wife. My heart is a frozen piece of meat, even when it beats, it’s just sustaining my body. Dead is me. Dying was my life. I am sick of people, I spend hours alone. Solitude is pleasure, my only friend is God. I don’t put my hope on anyone because everyone I loved broke my heart someday in a way or another. Some cut me deep some scratched my wounds. What’s the difference? They are a factor to keep me bleeding.


Draft thoughts

Years, I spent wandering in this puzzling, wondering what’s the rule or the law that binds it all together. Looking for the one in a million million instance when all those rules break apart where supernatural things happen. What’s love? And what’s life? Are we meant to live a random life where love and marriage is just another trick or treat? Is love a feeling or a meaning or a motive? Is love a spiritual gift or is it just another satisfaction of needs and habits? In this life, are we all meant to be heroes? Or just some anonymous background roles. Do others exist or is it just me?

For a while now I have been separated from my senses, I do what I hate and forget what I need, to live. All my words make perfect sense if one knows the clew. and the Clew is always in time and place. My hand pulses as my nerves are over stressed. I want to hide somewhere where it’s quiet. Solitude is a warm blessing sometimes in a busy demanding life.

It’s been couple of days, didn’t talk with God for a while, something in me is not alright. Maybe because of the now career I have begun. Starting over when I am almost Thirty! Will I make it somewhere? Will I see the vision fulfilled?


Scrambled thoughts

Years, I spent wandering in this puzzling, wondering what’s the rule or the law that binds it all together. Looking for the one in a million million instance when all those rules break apart where supernatural things happen. What’s love? And what’s life? Are we meant to live a random life where love and marriage is just another trick or treat? Is love a feeling or a meaning or a motive? Is love a spiritual gift or is it just another satisfaction of needs and habits? In this life, are we all meant to be heroes? Or just some anonymous background roles. Do others exist or is it just me?

For a while now I have been separated from my senses, I do what I hate and forget what I need, to live. All my words make perfect sense if one knows the clew. and the Clew is always in time and place. My hand pulses as my nerves are over stressed. I want to hide somewhere where it’s quiet. Solitude is a warm blessing sometimes in a busy demanding life.

It’s been couple of days, didn’t talk with God for a while, something in me is not alright. Maybe because of the now career I have begun. Starting over when I am almost Thirty! Will I make it somewhere? Will I see the vision fulfilled? Tired, so tired. Exhausted and beat. My body kills itself and my brain wastes itself, my life slips out of my hands and my breath cease. I have lost the warmth of life as I froze my inner feelings. HE said “go & do” and I went and did, but the price was so dear. Sometimes HE shows dreams and visions so bright and pretty, so good but the price is not always like so. Most of the time, a Life is paid in ransom. A slow and painful death is the only way to make sure other lives flourish.

Die seed die. you shall then live, and even if you don’t others shall. You, little seed are good weather you win or loose a fight for your breath and sunshine. If you die you feed a worm and if you live you feed a man, then the worm but surface and the birds get you. I saw you swollen, I saw you rapturing, I sow some hope when your step pushed up. I saw some little roots, but will I live to see the fruits? O life of mine, when will you shine. When will you show, and what I believed would grow? When will I reach the end to what I started? The purpose of what I was granted? Sweet sweet day will I see your dawn? will the masks of your mysteries be blown? Will you come and stay, or leave and take me away? Spin O Earth and spin, release the power within, let today go away and bring tomorrow to the bay. I lived for tomorrow so long that I don’t feel time. As if someone stole my rhyme. Don’t misunderstand me for one who grumbles or whines, I love my life, but I miss so much.

A vision is a blessing but it pushes its seer to a loop darkness. One sees the bright sunlight then enters a dark room sees nothing but is blinded by what he saw. Science speak words of knowledge to be fathomed by the wise in heart. The wise knows things that Intellectuals may not link together. For the knowledge and understanding of time is half the wisdom. Recognizing the time and foreseeing beyond is only given and not taken. The ancient wise man knew that and testified that the peeks of wisdom are the fear of God. Any wise man would confirm, but the proud would desperately argue, but the words of the wise stand tall through the test of time not the proof of words.

Swinging between the peeks of wisdom and the pits of ignorance. But within me is a will and a determination, a persistent heart that keeps me sleepless and crying out loud with unquenchable pitch of thirst that is never fulfilled but by the springs of God.

My words cease.


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