02 June 2016

We are as I am



السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

We are bound. To the earth. To our ways of thinking.
We are bound to our faults and our weaknesses.
To fall. To hurt and be hurt.
To bleed and burn.

We are bound. To be lost.
And experience loss.
To not be fine.
To break as we walk this crooked line.

We are bounded by obligations.
By needs and wants.
By expectations, unmet.
By visions unreal, grand.

We are bound. To anger and hate.
Some call it human.
To others: that is fate.

We are bound.
We are.
We are.
I am.

Not as people see.
Not as people know and think.
More of a wreck. The first to be there.
When deceiving, the last to blink.

The foremost in cutting ties. 
Ever so eager to say goodbye.
The one bound to his way of thinking.
Never open to suggestions. Always reckless.

I am. The one bound.
The one who knows. But refuses to acknowledge.
The one who'll break. As he walks this crooked line.
The one who bleeds and burns.
The one who is bound to his faults and his weaknesses.
I am bound. To this earth. To my ways of thinking.

02 February 2016

No Name, First Piece


اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

I started. Then I stopped. That which I should have continued on with. I started. Then I stopped again. Only to start, not once, not twice but too many times. Thinking - lying, in fact - to myself, "Just once more"

It is never just "once more"... There are always more. Much more.

If I were to paint the state it is in (whatever 'it' is), I'd paint it black. Black as night - a starless, moonless night. And if I were to imagine how it all started, I'd start to blame others. Play the victim. Act the martyr. When in truth, we all know that is not true. It never was, never will be.

Acting. I'd say I'm a pretty darn good actor. There's this mask I like to wear. But this mask is not like any other. No, unlike other masks, this one requires a hefty sacrifice; I must rip my face off. Sorry if this sounds gory. I apologise if this makes anyone worry. That is not my intention. It never was.

But this... this mask. I can't tell if what I'm wearing is the mask or my face. They seem too alike nowadays. Before, I could differentiate the two. Now, it is not as easy. But I know some people who can still tell the difference. And sometimes, I need them to tell me which is which. So, will you tell me?

No answer is needed. That was a rhetoric. As is a large part of my life. A theatre. One actor. Two masks. Full of unanswered questions.

Perhaps... perhaps there is light somewhere in the audience. Yes, I see it :)