Emerald green lace; porcelain skin; sparkling lashes ; vivid details..
the twinkle in her eyes sparkled through the dim lights..Fear intertwined with joy. anticipation with anxiety..reality with illusion..everything moved in slow motion..frozen moments in time..trays crashing, heels clicking, lyrics floating..
The serenity of the night was rivaled in beauty by her astonishing entrance..
There she was..
The bouquet of flowers clutched in her hands as white as a newborn's soul. it all seemed to fit perfectly, perfectly for she...
Listening to the cadence of her own heartbeats..
Walking elegantly on the linings of a dream.
Faces clouded her vision and laughter rang through her ears
Always and forever..
Always and forever..
At that moment, everything was right with the world…perfection
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Do you know that every time I listen to the loud clatter of rain outside my window I hear your weeping grave?
Do you know that every day I try to hide behind the normalcy of the world, only to find that it will never be normal again? I seek comfort in the novelty of the now, knowing the solace is just a façade?
Do you know that every time I look at the waves descending to the shore I feel cheated by the scene? By the pretense it holds to be the same with or without you?
Do you know that every time I hold your photograph, I see the malice of reality in your sparkling eyes?
Do you know that every time I listen to your favorite song, it’s your voice I strive to hear, over-shouting my sorrow? And every time I try to find it, the loud music blasts against your urgent pleas?
I close my eyes and pull myself into the past. I attempt to seize your heart with my hand. I feel the providential warmth filling the hollowing space, inducing a peaceful calm into the air that once was musty with death. My surroundings seem to take on different features, reshaping their existence, inverting their previous reality
.. Hope..
I see you..
You are the words on every page I read. You are the lyrics in every song I hear. You are the warmth of every sunny day.. you are .. the wisdom of the old, the laughter of the young, the everything of mine..
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Figments of Ali’s imagination
I crouched on my knees and mustered all the courage to open my eyes and peek at the creature under the couch. I knew the creature behind the bookcase was in its turn peeking on me. I look at the people seated on the couch, oblivious to what resides under it, their eyebrows arching at my unacceptable behavior. My mother refuses to believe a word I say since the creature under the stairs had broke her favorite perfume bottle. I don’t blame her, it’s not her fault that she don’t see it .After all, these creatures materialize only to me.
My parents accepted that their eldest and only son, their pride, the apple of their eye,- had an openly wild imagination and was frightened by what they called the “imaginary monsters”, but they could never accept the fact that my dear creatures were behind the loss of their car keys, the breakage of their sunglasses and the flight of our parrot.
“Ali” my father would say, strictly. “You have to stop this. You’re a big boy now”
Four years. Since I emerged from Mama’s womb and into their world..Four years..big..im a big boy..
My creatures don’t have a physical form until my mind has settled on what it was that they looked like. The creature inside the closet have a very long steel nose made of jeans zippers. ..its eyes- made of shirt buttons- are always sad and sinking down. The creature under the stairs- Mr Indomi- has no definite start or end. A bundle of shoe laces sharp on every tip. Multiple weapons..multiple weapons..
The creature under the kitchen sink is very loud. I never got really close before it started hollering.. BANG BANG BANG..
They evolve too..my creatures..constantly..
I think it, they have it..the power of my mind fuel them..
Recklessness has no place..
Once I thought of razor blades shooting from Mr indomi’s laces..and
There I was, being dragged under the stairs by a bundle of laces, a low growl emitting from its anonymous throat, showering me with razors..
I never thought next to the stairs ever again..
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Izzie stevens..
The day she chose the perfect dress. The day her heart skipped a beat. The day she found him on that hospital bed. cold and pale. What had been a joyous day, full of prom lights and beautiful gowns had turned to a flood of pain, heartache and tears.. One minute he was asking her to be his wife and the next he was white without a single hint of life.
Reality is what it was.
I was in that room once. Another time another universe. Except. Izzie arrived at the end. I missed the end.
I knew that she was drowning. She tried to scream, but no sound emerged from her dry lips.. Only desperate silent cries for help, for release.. Her eyes were blinking rapidly, her tears falling unnoticed..her voice..a whisper. filled with agonizing pain. She was trapped inside her own body. My limbs suddenly became so heavy; my legs betrayed me, not allowing me to reach her. I could only feel her slipping away slowly.
Temperance brennan
The day she exited the courthouse, unable to bring herself to hear her father's verdict. The day she went against her logic and threw doubt on the prosecution’s case, painting herself as the killer. The day she talked to her heart after silencing it for so many years.
Reality is what it was.
Another time another universe.
I knew the truth. It wasn’t any of the words he blabbered. I knew it. I saw it. yet I also knew the comfort of a lie. He looked at me. his eyes pleading, begging me to back him up. It was wrong, wrong,wrong. Yet my heart..my heart..I took the blame
anything not to see him hurt..anything not to see him humiliated..anything not to see that look in his eyes ever again..
Dr Gregory House
The day he sat infront of his only friend. The words ran through his head like a whisper as his fingers slowly worked their way along the worn keys of the piano “ Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday Happy birthday Happy birthday to you!”. The day he confronted his worse fear and his only ally. Lonliness.
Reality is what it was.
Another time another universe.
A familiar ache started up in my chest, the kind that gradually builds to such desperate longing that I can barely breathe from pain. The loneliness I felt at night ate me up..i reached for my only friend at this time, my diary. My fingers clutched the pencil so tight, jotting down whats left on that worn out piece of paper “ Happy birthday to you Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday Happy birthday Happy birthday to you”.
Phoebe Buffay
The day she found her mother’s soul residing in the cat. The day she tried to convince them that her feelings were real. that her mind was sane..that she’s not giving up on it because they don’t believe. The day she taught them that even if she was wrong, it wouldn’t hurt them to be supportive.
Reality is what it was.
Another time another universe.
I starred at her disbelieving. I couldn’t believe she exploited something personal and used it as a joke. I didn’t tell her because I wanted her to believe me. I didn’t tell her to prove anything. I did it because I wanted her support. I wanted to scream: Even if I am wrong..who cares?who cares? Who cares?..be my friend
Lorelai Gilmore
The day she swallowed her pride and stripped off her dignity. The day she went to her parents for money after years of estrangement. The day she built her career starting from scratch and reached the highest steps of success and accomplishment. The day she chose to break away from the stereotypical ideals of her parent’s upper-class society.
Reality is what it was.
Another time another universe.
I defined my freedom by the smallest choices a person could make. Choices insignificant to some that the lack of them might seem strange.. I chose not to go to a wedding. I chose not to participate in family discussions. I chose not to study finance. I chose. I chose. I chose. It was me who decided. Its significant. Independence here is not independence there. Still it was what I considered a step toward personal freedom in such a place.
They say they’re not educational. They say they’re not influential. They say they’re a waste of time. I say. They’re the most accurate portrayal of real life. The one I know of, the one I don’t and the one I never will. I say star hollows is my town, apartment 20 is my home and the squints are my intellectual colleagues. Everything I lack, everything I want, and everything I am.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Another year..
The sky cried. Tears of bitterness. Trying hard to wash away the shame. the indignity of the world..the disgrace..
they are the superiors..they posses hearts and brains..unlike other species..they were given compassion..
Fear crawled slowly into their soul..paralyzing their limbs.
Under the table they hid. Behind their locked door, they waited..and when the dawn broke. six feet under, their lifeless bodies laid. The rain hit the shards of their - unlocked door..as if water could erase crimson stains.
Compassion..they were given compassion..
Can a compassionate heart slaughter? Can it blast roofs and then hide behind political obligations? Can it beat after stopping another from doing so? Can it?
They sat on what once was a tree.its branches turned into twigs. Its leaves into dust. Its roots, once standing, lay underneath those black boots. Smashed.dead. not breathing. Their green helmets shielded their heads from harm. Their weapons tucked under their arms. For safety. For power. For defense. For murder.
Humans..They harbour so much hatred towards their own, feeling a sick twist in their gut. Hidden desire to kill,maim, destroy.
werent they the ones who nursed that little bird and mended its broken wing? Werent they the ones who helped strangers collect their fallen things? Werent they the ones who stopped their cars so pedestrians could cross the street? how can they defend their own from pain, and yet cause it?
They seek revenge on those who wrong them, and they protect their loved ones with a brutal ferocity, hunting down those who cause them pain and wreaking vengeance with all their might. Human nature is dark and light, black and white, with infinite shades of grey in between.