Speak Up?

Salam Allah 3lykm, 

It has taken so many days to get to this point. I've been contemplating about starting up on my blog again since months now, but something keeps holding me back. Maybe it's the thought that I started writing here in my teens; I don't know how much I can or cannot divulge before it turns into 'airing dirty laundry', or worse - who's going to stumble across this blog now, to find a nearly 34 year old stay-at-home mom trying to salvage her sanity?

Anyway, a lot has changed since the last time I wrote. My boys are both going to school, which means I actually have time to myself now. I've become one of those 'wake up earlier than everyone else' type of people, just to add more 'responsibility-free' hours to my day. I say 'responsibility-free', but they usually involve cooking/packing lunches, making breakfast, clearing dishes, etc. without anyone else piling their needs/wants on me in between. And it means I then get guilt-free 'me time' during the day, when my not-so-little ones are in school! 

I enjoy it, though - had someone told me the secret to a clean home, kitchen sink, empty laundry hamper + stand + basket, and a freshly cooked meal is sending the children to school, I would've probably done it a lot sooner! JK - as much as I value my sanity, I don't think babies should be separated from their mommies SO young.:')

I honestly don't know what direction this post is going to take - all I know is, I've increasingly sold the idea of writing being therapeutic to many loved ones, so not writing myself is beginning to make me feel quite hypocritical..and I'm here to change that. I think it's also the self-induced pressure to write something 'good' that's restrained me. The idea that people deem me 'good enough a writer to proofread their work' is nerve-wrecking. I'd like to be able to revert to the 'open book' I once was, freely expressing my brain farts to the world. 

Adulting. I think that's the inhibitor. The idea that I'm now supposed to be responsible enough to filter my thoughts, because oversharing is bad. But how can you then be that consolation an individual needs, as they stumble across your blog on a particularly difficult night - how can you be the realization that there is a light at the end of the dark, almost-suffocating tunnel..if your unadulterated take is now going to be projected whilst taking possible offenses into consideration? 

I vaguely remember talking about the possibility of having ADHD on this blog, I cannot remember when or even what spurred that thought, though. I seem to be a textbook case of ADHD, though. I fit the whole 'lack of organization skills, decision making, planning, yada yada yada' category. It's helped me understand a lot of 'inconveniences' which drove people around me up a wall. Then again, it's merely a self-diagnosis. I've been told I'm crazy for believing everything on the Internet, but then again - the world is at our fingertips thanks to the Internet. You can literally pull up information on anything and everything you think of. But let's be real: your device probably throws it in your face, before you can even deny having thought about it.

..Is this a good start? Is it a proper attempt to get back in the flow of penning my thoughts? I don't know. I'm just distracted by my 6yo's inability to finish a meal by himself, without my intervention. Is this airing dirty laundry? God Knows. If there's any exasperated parent out there who has a 6yo who won't eat by themselves, know you're not a bad parent. You're doing whatever you can - everyone has their own timeline. Including kids. Cue the horrified gasps and judgmental tuts of aunties worldwide. Except the aunties are now grannies and we're....the aunties?! 

Mind-blown. See, I think the reason I also avoid this blog is because I revert into the 15yo who started this blog. It doesn't feel like the 'responsible adult you've now turned into', as a family friend kindly put it a few days ago. The last time she saw me, I was in school. Or university. I don't remember, to be quite frank. Whatever the case, I just feel like I hold myself back from the possible criticism that might come my way. 

Would it help if my thoughts were as wondrous as the recipes I conjure up, when the pantry's bare? Or how about the way I repurpose leftovers to empty the fridge? ...maybe my thoughts just aren't adult enough? And by adult thoughts, I don't mean NSFW. PLEASE. I mean 'mature' - Blekh. 'Not childish', not 'teeny-bopperish'. 

Maybe I shouldn't even care - who do I need to prove myself to, in my mind? Why am I setting all these 'good enough' constraints on myself? It's not like I'm trying to impress people who mistakenly find their way on my blog. Or am I? Is that why I've stopped writing? The lack of validation, perhaps? This blog was more like a diary, once upon a time. Maybe that's how I need to treat it...it's not a literary wonder. It wasn't really meant to be; the poems were just a fluke. 

It's SO hard to focus on my thoughts with 6yo waddling to and fro, passing on 'messages' from the 8yo. It was a lot easier to ramble on, whilst pulling an all-nighter trying to meet a project deadline. 

----------------------------

Alright, attempt numero dos. Kids are at school, and all my chores are done. I now have no distractions to blame my inability to articulate thoughts on. How is this even possible? My brain's always racing with endless thoughts, but when I come to throw them out here - everything just dissipates into thin air? It's taken me well over 12 hours, and I'm still editing this blog post for the gazillionth time instead of adding to it. Does that do something to explain where my mind's at? 

Maybe I should put set a limit on myself, like people do these one-take vlogs..I should do a 'one-take blog post' where I'm not allowed to 'proofread' - kind'a like how Twitter works. That's literally how I used to blog though, once upon a time. I would furiously type away, hit 'publish', then never read that post again. And that was therapeutic - what I do now is just stressful! So, what's changed? I almost want to put my laptop away and go work out, instead.

Oh, I lack consistency. Can you tell? I've been trying to force myself to be consistent with a lot of things these days, and I feel like following a mundane routine really helps. It also means I teeter between living life on 'auto-pilot' , and actually living in the moment. With kids, you need to live in the moment, I feel. I don't want to rob them of their childhood by having a robotic presence, if that makes sense. 

I'm also trying OH SO HARD to be mindful of my emotions. I don't think I've ever learnt to control them properly, and it makes me think it's also an ADHD thing..but could ADHD just be a scapegoat for my shortcomings? It's actually parenting that made me realize my control's whacked; how could I teach my boys to control their emotions, if I really don't have a handle on mine? I think adulting also involves a lot of self-realization, which is...fun....? For the lack of a better term.

Or is that just motherhood? You lose parts of yourself when catering to other's seemingly endless needs, and when you get a chance to put that on 'pause', you now have the chance to rediscover what you've turned into. It really is a blissful pause; I totally sympathize with parents who lost their shit when schools closed during lockdown. I also think kids need that healthy break away from their parents, to be able to grow. Too much comfort results in stagnation, right? Something like that. 

When thoughts get too overwhelming, I remind myself everything has already been planned by the best of Planners. This includes the uncertainty that comes with life - it's okay to relinquish control from time to time. I don't know where I was going with this, but a thought just popped into my head: I absolutely hate it when people ask me, 'what are you going to do now?' when they find out my boys are finally going to school. They make me doubt myself for wanting to take a well-deserved break after 8 long, anxiety-inducing years. I feel like they think I'm lazy, for opting not to throw myself into the workforce. 

The chores aren't going to do themselves, are they? I'm still running this household and making sure everyone's needs are being met, even if I'm not homeschooling my boys anymore. If I get an hour or 2 to myself during that time, why do I then feel so guilty for saying I'm 'unemployed'? It really gets to me - I've also been accused of not 'doing something' with my 'God-gifted talent', letting my mind be 'idle'. If only they could 'read' my mind for a minute - it's anything but idle! I would LIKE a quiet, idle moment or two..to be honest. "Why don't you publish something?" Yeah, like..would you pay to read my two cents on absolutely everything, nothing, and then some? 'So and so has done this or is doing that - why can't you?' Well, for starters - and a very cliche statement's about to follow - I'm not them, am I? I'm me, and I don't even know what 'me' is anymore...which is why I'm trying to find out but your as*holic, holier-than-thou self is out here telling me I 'need to give back to the community' and 'earn my cut'. 

It almost makes me feel like we now live in a world where you don't deserve to live, unless you have a paycheck. And that's a sickening thought, because to be employed..I'm going to have to employ others to do the unpaid work I do everyday at home. Given today's economy, it's very unlikely I'll even make enough to do so, so where would that leave me, then? Too exhausted to do anything whole-heartedly, really. So yes, I'd rather forego the 'benefits of a double-income household'...and if I'm going to be judged for it, so be it. 

It's funny how you can be a stay-at-home parent if you're rolling in millions, so to speak. You have all the household help you want, and you're considered the 'elite' as you spend your day spending the millions on 'self-love' and 'self-care'..regardless of whether or not you've made said-millions. The middle-class aims to be you, whilst struggling to balance work and family life. 

"I'm already struggling with my mental health - I don't need to add more on my plate right now", is probably what I should lead with...and end the discussion with, right?

I've absolutely struggled with, and abhorred being called 'lazy' during every stage of my life. What a shocker, ain't it? I've also done everything I've possibly could to overcompensate for it, but I think I'm just tired now. Mentally and emotionally, especially. If whether or not I bring money to the table is the deciding factor of how 'beneficial' I am to society, f*ck it. 'Lazy' and 'useless' I choose to be labeled. Almost terms of endearment really, if I get to live life on my terms. 

If anyone should benefit from my presence, it should be my loved ones. And if they aren't benefiting from it because I'm too tired trying to be beneficial to blood-sucking leeches? You get the idea. 

Right, we're done here for now. I already feel the repercussions of this post, but it had to be said. As I was writing this post, someone called me and casually asked if I have any plans of 'working outside' or 'from home'. For as long as I can manage, the answer is always going to be a flat 'no'. If this blog turns into something else, then we'll see where we go from there. 'Til then, I need to fill my own cup before I can fill anyone else's. And right now, we're using a dropper to fill a sieve...because people keep replacing the goddamn cup. It took EIGHT YEARS to get here - it's not even been one and a half month since my boys started school! What's the difference between these people and those who ask newlyweds when they're going to have a baby, a month into their marriage? Not much. They probably need to find a job that keeps them out of others' business. 

....Looks like we're on a roll here with this rant, eh? Well, it's time to 'find greener pastures'; I have less than an hour left to find something calming to do, so my babies don't return to find a momster. People and their undying curiosity, man. If only they actually put it to good use!

Until next time.

Shit-bricks

 Salaaaaaam Allah 'Alykm Readers, 

I always turn to this blog when my mind's in a turmoil. It was a lot easier to vent as a teenager, though. As a mother and wife, it's almost 'frowned upon' because 'why are you airing your dirty laundry?', right? Can I have two question marks like that, in a sentence? Lord Knows years of schooling my babies has a done a number to my brain. Not that I'm complaining - Alhamdulillah, I have the ability to do so amidst the colossal shit that hit the fan, and rained down over the world. It almost feels like I'm back in school all over again. 

It also makes me wary, the fact that someday my boys might find my blog online and read the mess I once was. 7yo is already reading like a champ, mashallah...& 5yo is getting there, Alhamdulillah. A mess, or a 'diamond in the rough'? Blekh. A bit narcissistic that, innit? But what about 'self-worth' and all that jazz? 

Where do you cross the fine line between 'self-love' and narcissism, I've always wondered?

It's funny how the unmarried cannot wait to get married, and live a 'blissfully married life', and the married look at them like, 'But you're already living a blissfully responsibility-free life, ya idiot!' I've been on both sides, and the grass truly looks greener when you feel like you're stuck in a pile of cow pat. An opportunist would turn the cow pat into an outdoor oven, and cook a meal. Or maybe even build a little hut. Lord Knows I've triiiied to 'look at the bright side', but it can be blinding. At least when you're a pessimist, you're prepared for the worst. You use the shit to build a wall around yourself, or at the very least...sling it over at those who try to mock you for being in it. 

Clearly, I do not know where I'm going with this post. 

I'm just writing to 'feel better'. I'm just trying to 'feel better' without 'airing my dirty laundry'. This reminds me of all the posts I'd written well past midnight, when I was procrastinating finishing university assignments and projects. Bittersweet memory, really. I used to be sitting on the floor of my parent's bedroom, with the LAN cable shoved into my ol' brick of a Dell laptop. It was funny - the freezing cold tiles were funnily offset by the laptop 'frying my ovaries' into oblivion. HAH! Clearly, that was a lie...judging from how fast we had our boys. 

Guilt. 

Always sitting on a mahoosive pile of it. Kinda like the afore-mentioned pile of shit, really. Like, 'me time' is never really 'ME time' - it's always 'gotta finish a chore or two, to have 'earned' this time..but then, before I know it..'me time' is up. ...Could I have published my 'work' and become an author, instead? Could I have had the 'upper hand', instead of being the 'stay at home parent, who has it 'easy'? It almost makes me want to chortle - 'easy'. 'Cos I don't have to 'face the outside world', I 'never leave my comfort zone'. What's so tough about 'being in your PJs all day, with no 'schedule' or 'deadlines' to meet, right?

I'm currently staring at an empty bottle on the floor. How hard is it to throw a bottle of water or juice into the recyling bin, after you're done? Clearly, it's almost impossible in this household. Wait..does this count as 'airing my dirty laundry'? Sorry, let's move on. My train of thoughts has been derailed by my 5yo, who's chosen to lie down next to me with his RockIt Twist. (A lovely gift for a kid aged 4-8, btw. Also, this is not an endorsement..I genuinely think it's an awesome 'replacement' for parents hell-bent on not getting their children a device. Props to us all, btw - it is HARD, in this day and age!) 

Sometimes, I think I need to prove my worth somehow. 

Then I think about how I don't 'owe it to anybody' - y'know? I look at my boys and think, 'they're proof I'm good enough...aren't I?' And that leads to another horrific cycle of 'OMG, I'm not narcisssistic..Am I?!' which leads to me chewing the hell out of my fingers. 

Yeah, for those of you who have known me since my 'troublesome teens', I still nail/finger-bite. Is that a thing - chewing the skin around the fingers and not really the nails? As gross as it sounds, I think I'll probably do it right to my deathbed. Not really a 'nail-biter' anymore, so that's kinda 'progress', right?

Is it too much to expect to be understood? 

I don't even want an apology at this rate - just the acknowledgment that - where sticks and stones may break my bones, your words are like a dagger repeatedly twisted in my heart...as cliché as that f**king is. Excuse my French, please. I try not to swear 'cos I'm a parent now and all that jazz, & they're supposed to make us better people. Am I really better than I was, though? I feel like someone's taken a club to my brain and heart, and played 'Brick Breaker'. Or 'Pinball'...between the two. Does that make any sense? It might not - it's been donkey's years since I played any games, after all.

I need to end this post, prematurely. Just like my babies were born. It's probably for the best, anyway. Remember what I said about 'guilt' and 'me-time'? Shit hits the fan when 'Mama goes MIA', or 'off-duty'. Never appreciated, nevertheless...it's my 'comfort zone' after all, right?

This little rant seems so out of place, especially when I think about all the people being displaced worldwide. 'There are bigger problems out there - stop being so self-centered all the time.' There's war and poverty, torment and death. I have it easy - 'first world problems', right?

May Allah have Mercy on us all, and Forgive us for our ingratitude. 

Feel free to drop a comment or two, Readers - it's been a hot minute. Some wisdomous words, if you will..'cos no matter how old I get, I'll always be the tumultous teen, when I started this blog. In my head, that is. Cannot be that in reality, 'cos I have expectations to live up to and some shit like that. 

Anyway, 'til next time - who knows? It might be sooner than later. Or never. 

Stay safe wherever you are, 

Was Salaam 'Alykm w Rahmatullahi T'ala w Barakateh

 

Knock, knock!

Salam Allah 3lykm, dearest readers!

Man, that last blog post was a tad bit depressive....and dramatic, might I add. I don't know, I feel like now that I'm 32 - to think I started this blog when I was in my teens..like whaaaat?! - I feel like I'm a smidge bit more mentally stable. 

Life's too short to waste it on being a Debbie Downer, innit? Probably also has a bit to do with not wanting to scar my boys for life too, you know? I want to raise 'happy chappies', if I can. Yes, amidst a pandemic - is that really too much to ask for?

By the way, this is a very old-school blog post - I'm just typing my thoughts out as they come to me. Also, now that my 6yo can read, Mashallah - I want to be able to put out less negativity out there in print form, in case he comes across it someday. That won't be anytime soon, though - that's for sure. Too tiny to be on the Internet on his lonesome. 

Also, you hear all about social media being a double-edged sword - it really is. I feel like ever since I've come out of a 'social media coma', I'm a lot less....edgier? Understandable, as I'm not teetering on the edge of a sword. I'm a lot more present and productive. 

Prioritize family and loved ones, and abstain from the fake, dopamine high of social media. That's my main goal during this lockdown. And to keep my boys' screen time minimal. Unless we're collectively watching classic cartoons as a family. Then, it's quite alright.

Also, minimize squabbles. If I have the option between throwing a hissy fit over absolutely nothing, and just getting shit done - then I'll opt for the latter, thank you very much. Peace of mind is crucial, and I'd rather not be the one robbing myself of it. I did a lot of that, which is probably what made me so miserable. 

Can I just say, I've made peace with the fact that some days are just for work, and those are the days I clock the best kind of sleep. I've also had to teach myself to see the beauty in doing things for others - that is the kind of dopamine hit social media is robbing US of!? All those endless and absolutely senseless debates on whether women should do stuff for men, and vice versa?? Nobody needs to see that crap, honestly. If you're a decent person, you'd help people regardless of your gender and theirs.

Right, my train of thoughts has been derailed by 4yo trying to fly his Super Wing's toy into my face, and the old me would lament over not getting enough time to myself. I've now realized that's just his way of wanting my time, and he deserves it. Now that I've brought structure into my family's lives by adjusting our sleep schedule, I get my 'me time' when they wind down for the night. So, this is rightfully 'their time' right now that I've infringed upon....

'Til next time, 

Stay safe, stay home.💖

Is it really just ME?

Salam Allah 3lykm, 

I cannot remember the last time I sat down - without the boys whining by either side - to just vent out my frustrations on this poor, missed-but-never-forgotten blog. I remember I used to do lot of posts without any hesitation at all - just putting my scrambled thoughts into words. Now..I hit 'backspace' a lot more than I would like to.

An update on the boys: Eesa is going to be 4 in October, and Mansoor 2, Inshallah. We've all just been really caught up with viral and bacterial infections, since Sept 2017. Mansoor was hospitalized for six days, for pneumonia and an ear infection. I thought I'd actually manage to write whilst cooped up in a hospital room, but those days mainly consisted of a shit-load of diaper + outfit changes..and oh-SO-MANY-needles. He's a proper little trooper, though..Mashallah. Made it right through the war zone that his little body had turned into, Al7mdlla. 

I've forgotten what I sat down to write, because of all the intervals I've taken to sort the boys out. I cannot imagine what working mothers go through, especially those who actually manage to work from home. Home, where the little terrorists, also known as 'their offspring', reside. Motherhood's no joke. I still don't understand why some women willingly give up their freedom and sanity for it all. Or maybe it's just me - I never wanted to have kids to begin with. Do I want my children to know they weren't wanted? No, not really. I just feel like it's not them - it's me. I'm not cut out for this shit.

So, I finally have them settled down..sharing building blocks, instead of launching them at each other. A proud parental moment, I'd like to believe. I feel like whatever they are, is the result of R7mah, and my mother's prayers. I have nothing to do with their achievements; Eesa's nearly 4, yet still in diapers. That says enough. The boy is terrified of sitting on the toilet. 

Then I ask myself: if I'm not cut out for motherhood, then what is it that I'm meant to do? I don't know. I'm SO sick and tired of being told I'm 'wasting' my 'potential', my 'talent', my 'mind' - oh, PLEASE. What mind?! The one that's 'short-circuiting' because of all the shit it's been put through?! I suffer from anxiety now. That's what's new. Anxiety attacks.

Oh my God. I sound like a menopausal crone, but I seriously need to turn my life around..before it's too late. My only purpose in life cannot be laundry, and other mundane house chores that could easily be taken over by a maid. If I need to raise these boys into two, decent men, I need to have something to be able to escape to, once in a while...a 'safe haven'. 

My only concern is, am I the only one who thinks this way? Am I a monster, for not deeming my children worthy enough to be the purpose I live for? Motherhood is SO hard and frustrating. I read Instagram posts of other mothers, and they always mention how, 'It's all worth it'. Do they really never wish they'd embraced motherhood? Is it really just me?

And on that bombshell, I better stop writing. My 1 year old has climbed right under my chair, and has gotten himself stuck there. And even though I feel like I should leave him there to figure how to get out of there himself.......oh okay. Ice-cold slabs pawing my stomach right now. Guess someone got hungry trying to find his way out. 

'Til next time, or next year...considering my track record, 

Wes Salam 3lykm W R7matullahi T3aala w Barakateh

Selfish

Salam 3lykm,

This post is going to be different. It's going to be like a 'one-take': raw, and unadulterated. It's going to be depressive, so if you've been looking forward to seeing something cheerful pop up on my blog, this is the time to hit the 'x' button on your browsers.

There's not going to be any fancy editing, because really..it just adds more pressure to my already-pressurized mind. I'm like a ticking bomb. It is what it is: free writing. Dont expect any literary wonder either; I need this for MY sanity right now, so if you think this might give you some sort of  reassurance, I highly doubt it will. You still have time to hit 'x'.

I have two beautiful sons, yet when mothers gush about living for their children, or through their children..I cannot understand. Here I am, praying that I don't live for long, so my children don't have to endure my presence. I find myself looking forward to leaving them motherless, not because I'm shirking away from my responsibilities, but because I feel like I'm raising psychopaths. After all, how can someone with anxiety be trusted to raise a normal human being?

My anxiety attacks have started to become more frequent; I'm literally a nervous wreck all the goddamn time. Not exactly the most pleasant person to be around either, I'd imagine. What once used to be a daunting fear, I've now come to terms with: failure. After all, you can't really run away from Fate...can you?

I'm so tired of trying to explain myself to people; scratch that, I'm exhausted. I feel so drained, physically..mentally..emotionally, I really just want to switch off, and never feel a thing ever again. I feel like I wasn't made for this world; I hate it with all my being. I hate deceit. And I hate it even more, when it comes from those you are closest to.

I'm at a point where I never want to see certain people in my life ever again. Especially in the Hereafter. You've caused me so much pain; stay away, please. You've made me feel so inadequate; you've made me feel like I was at fault, when it was really all...YOU. As I type this, I feel like I have this ball in my throat...except it feels like my heart. Not a ball. What does it mean? What does any of it mean?

Love is a nightmare. I've gone through hell and back, except I feel like there's no coming back. It's a black hole. It always has been, and probably will always be. I've lost myself time and time again, to love. Let's say, if love was alive, I'd bludgeon it to death with a blunt object.

I have fantasized about running away, switching off all forms of contact with the world. Running away 'til I look back, and see nothing. Running away 'til I'm blinded by sweat, and regurgitating bitter bile, in an attempt to purge myself of the memories left by love. I want to start afresh, a clean slate.

I want to start with not having any emotions, ever. I'm sick and tired of feeling...make me heartless. I wish I could wave a stylus - and like a comic illustrator - turn my character into a heroine in charge of her emotions. I would start by never being fazed, especially by those she loves. Because they are the ones who deliver the lowest blows to the heart.

I'm tired. My eyes are finally closing, and if I don't sleep now....I'll be a momster again to my precious babies. How my heart aches, everytime those soulful eyes look up at me in confusion, when 'Mama gets mad'. How wretched I feel, when I see tears streaming down their chipmunk cheeks....because 'Mama cannot understand'.

I'm going to turn to free writing, in an attempt to rid myself of what feels like depression. It's weighing down upon me..ever so heavily, and all I want to do....is let it consume me. But I will fight. If anything, I'll NOT do it for my children, or loved ones. I'll do it for the one who deserves better, but has FOREVER been prioritized last: ME.

'Til next time, Reader...I bid thee, 'Farewell'.

My Subtle Declaration

Salam Allah 3lykm, 

Every post, I begin with how I thought I didn't have it in me anymore..this isn't to say I consider myself a great writer, but it seems like I'm always going to have something to fall back on, lest I lack someone to lean on someday. 

I sat in the corridors of my apartment, (unaware of how friggin' cold the tiles were, 'til I had to get up) scribbling away the thoughts that were beginning to eat me alive. Until today, I thought I had forever lost the ability to turn my thoughts into words, for fear of being judged. Or ridiculed. Maybe I'd subconsciously shut off the ability to do so, because I didn't want to accept any alternative to the life I had once dreamt of, and written about. I still find myself hesitant, hitting 'backspace'...as I ponder the consequences of my written words. Once this post is up, it is a known fact that it will never be altered...let alone deleted. 

On a sidenote, I read some posts I wrote a long time ago...and realized I don't even know who I am anymore. I contradict everything I once thought I'd be. My aspirations have been shot to hell, and everyday is now spent in regret. My tears have long dried up, and my spirit has slipped into a coma so deep, I fear I've reached a point of no return. 

I fear my thoughts, I really do. I have tried relentlessly to push them away, because once they are out..they might will distort my reality. But.........and it's a BIG but - I'm not living to love anymore. I'm just another prisoner of life, slashing days off as they come to a mundane end. I wish I could turn back the hands of time; I swear, I would be in a different place, far away from here.

My entire life flashes right before my eyes, as I think of every single life decision I entrusted a complete traitor with. Then I wonder about the million others who have suffered consequences worse than mine. 

How many lives have been ruined, how many hearts have been stomped upon...for the sake of 'In God we trust'? Which God were we being asked to seek, whilst a blindfold was being tightened, like a noose around the neck? Which God were we being told to turn back to, whilst our minds were being put to sleep? 

Mind games and manipulation, used to subdue and enslave people, turning them into nothing but minions. Minions who will literally bring the world to them at their feet,at the hefty price of their own lives, and the lives of their loved ones. 

Some of my thoughts may not make sense to many, but to those who have been swindled at the name of Islam, I sympathize with you. Those who have been maimed by a double-edged sword at the name of Islam, just remember: 

وَلَا تَحْسَبَنَّ اللَّهَ غَافِلًا عَمَّا يَعْمَلُ الظَّالِمُونَ ۚ إِنَّمَا يُؤَخِّرُهُمْ لِيَوْمٍ تَشْخَصُ فِيهِ الْأَبْصَارُ

Feelings

Salam 3lykm,
I can always count on my blog to save me through the darkest nights, even if I've neglected it for a year. I'm coming close to 3 months postpartum; Mansoor is going to be 3 months old on the 3rd of December, Inshallah. So now, I'm a mother of two handsome boys, Al7mdlla. Even then, things aren't always as they appear..with that said, I leave you with my latest musings, written in the quiet of the night, after everyone had gone to sleep.

Let's cut to the chase; being a mother of two, I don't have much time to myself. But this post isn't about motherhood; it's about me. It's to help me unscramble the mess my mind is, to 'de-clutter'.

Time and time again, I feel so alone. And in this loneliness, my thoughts haunt me and taunt me. I feel like I've exhausted myself, trying to run after loved ones..proving myself to those who have - and always will - doubt me.

I feel like when I look around, I see familiar faces..but no one I can share unadulterated thoughts with, for the fear of being judged..for the fear of being mocked, and for the fear of having them used against me. 

Fears. They seem to be the noose that's tightening around my neck. I feel so drained, because of overthinking and over-analyzing every word I utter or type. I feel like shutting myself in, indefinitely. I feel like escaping from my life; taking a hiatus from all my responsibilities, and sinking into the dark depths of nothingness. I feel like there's no one who understands me, because I've yet to understand myself.

I feel so lost, like a person who's just been thrown off a ship, right in the middle of the ocean. I have no life-jacket or lifesaver, and trying to stay afloat is becoming increasingly difficult cumbersome. Unnecessary. 

It would just be a lot easier to close my eyes, and let gravity take over. It would just be a lot easier to leave my limbs limp, and let the waves swallow me up..finally show me what's beneath the surface. It would just be a lot easier to succumb to the mighty ocean, instead of battling it, and facing defeat.

رَبَّنَا ظَلَمْنَا أَنْفُسَنَا وَإِنْ لَمْ تَغْفِرْ لَنَا وَتَرْحَمْنَا لَنَكُونَنَّ مِنَ الْخَاسِرِينَ

و السلام عليكم و رحمة الله تعالى و بركاته

Motherhood

Salam 3lykm,

I find myself at the mercy of a keyboard once again. Until this post is written, I won't know whether that's fortunate or not, but I'm hoping it lifts the burden from my chest. Motherhood is endless; there's no pause button, and I think it's slowly getting to me. I can't just hand my baby over to someone, let alone take off on a getaway. And now I'm having another one. 

Everyday, I feel like I'm not cut out for this. I can barely take care of myself, let alone raise a decent human being. It's such a struggle, because life's entire purpose has changed. I feel like there are days when I want to throw in the towel, and say 'eff this! I'm done being a housewife'. There are days when I don't want to do a single thing, but how do you explain that to those around you? How do you tell them that you just want to hit pause indefinitely, when it doesn't even exist?

Even as I type, my son is stumbling all over the sofa, trying to get his mother's attention by hitting whatever keys he can get his pudgy little hands on. When all else fails, he then gets up to antics he knows are 'no nice', but at least Mama will put everything down..even if it means she won't be happy about it. See, a husband can be ignored when you're not in the mood for life, and to a certain extent, he will give you your space. But babies? How do you tell your baby, 'Mama is taking a break today - entertain yourself.' You just bloody can't.

Motherhood is super difficult. And I'm telling you, I'm not cut out for it. I don't have the patience or tolerance it takes..to be a mother. I might just be a monster, instead of a mother. Motherhood wasn't meant for the likes of myself; sometimes, I find myself wishing I'll wake up at some point, from this recurrent dream. Don't get me wrong; Eesa is the most adorable baby there ever could be, and counting him infinite times as a blessing, still wouldn't do him justice. In fact, that's exactly what makes me feel so inadequate.

Bu3awas has been after me to join some Mommy & Me classes, or communities of stay-at-home moms, but I really couldn't be bothered. I don't have the will or energy to interact with other adults, to forge friendships that may or not 'blossom' into something that would be beneficial for my well-being. Stuff it! I don't even want to smile some days; who's going to deal with the consequences of my lack of desire to feel anything, when I actually make the effort to be social?

I was never good at friendship, anyway...it takes way too much effort - I'd rather channel whatever effort I can muster up, into motherhood. I can tell you one thing, though: there are days when I don't want to get out of bed, but when my baby peers at me innocently, with those big brown eyes of his..curiously pokes his stubby shrimp-like fingers up my nostrils, and giggles with delight as he exclaims, "Namma!" (Food!)..it makes me throw the covers off, and start yet another day.

So, that's my jumbled up take on motherhood. I'm not cut out for it, but there's no turning back now. I'm not cut out for it, but I have to force myself to be. I'm not cut out for it, but these little lives depend on me, so here's to feigning positivity..and possibly, a life of make-belief. 

رَبَّنَا هَبْ لَنَا مِنْ أَزْوَاجِنَا وَذُرِّيَّاتِنَا قُرَّةَ أَعْيُنٍ وَاجْعَلْنَا لِلْمُتَّقِينَ إِمَامًا

It's a Boy!

Salaaaam Allaahhh 3lykm!

'Where have I been all these months? I didn't even realize how long it's been since I last gave this blog any attention, to be quite honest. Well, it's finally happened; I was 15 when I took the alias of 'um3eesa' or 'um3awas'.....on the 2nd of October, Muhammad Eesa Khan finally came into our world.
Yes, that's where I've been..pregnancy was anything but easy, but the result was totally worth it. I now understand how women can have such rough pregnancies, yet do it all over again several times. They're not insane, as I initially assumed. Well, exceptions exist..I suppose!
Being a mother is super exhausting; sleep becomes a thing of the past. My little cherub tends to stay up all night, & sleeps while I nurse him throughout the day. Motherhood is a superpower on its own, though - I'm alive on less than 4 hours of sleep, Sb7analla. I don't feel sleep-deprived anymore; I suppose it's his cuteness that powers me on.'

I don't even remember when I starting writing this post, but as I complete it, Eesa will be 13 months old tomorrow, Al7mdlla. A lot has changed in life, obviously..but one thing I hate is, I've stopped writing. Completely. The last piece I wrote was well over a year ago. In fact, I don't think I have it in me to write anymore. Even if I do write, I won't have anything positive to say. We have enough negativity going around the world; don't really need to add to it, now do I? Don't exactly want people 'reading between the lines', scrutinizing every paragraph, and jumping to assumptions, either.

Why do I feel like I've said these words before? I'd probably find them in a post, if I were to go through my posts. Anyway, Eesa is now 3 months shy of 2 years, Al7mdlla...and will be a big brother in October, Inshallah. That's how long it has been since I last blogged. 

I won't lie..I don't have the desire to write anymore. Maybe it's because I don't have a laptop since May 2014, maybe it's because Bu3awas didn't give my writing much attention, when my blog was my pride and joy..I don't know the reason, but all I know is...I feel like I've completely lost the one talent I had. Now, with Bumpkin on the way..it's going to be another few years before I manage to get any 'me time'...which is why I decided to sit my butt down, and update my neglected blog.

Needless to say, Bu3awas has been after me to resume blogging, and has been very encouraging altogether...a tad bit late, don't you think?!xD Rabbi yjzeeh elfrdous, nevertheless. It might help salvage whatever sanity hasn't been shot to hell by motherhood. How I'm going to manage taking care of a newborn, whilst running after a toddler...is beyond my understanding. But I know one thing for sure: When He brings you to it, He brings you through it. That's what I'm clinging on to, for dear life.

I think this post is now long enough to suffice as an update. It might even be the one that brings me back to the blogosphere..wallahu a3lam. I must admit, I'm thoroughly enjoying typing my thoughts out, watching them transform into words right before my eyes! Maybe this is what I've needed all along...

Anyway, 'til next time...and hopefully it won't be when I'm expecting my third munchkin, because that's not going to be for quite a few years from now. It would be a shame to give up on this unexplainable feeling of clattering away on keys..basically doing something that isn't baby-related!

Drop a comment or two, if you want this blog to come back to life.

و السلام عليكم و رحمة الله تعالى و بركاته

  

Solitude

Salam 3lykm,

Miss me? 'Course not. Well, I'm back with more, anyway. Like it and read it, or save your breath 'n' beat it. Okay no, that was rude of me..I'm sorry. Nah, not really. Annnnyyyyywaaayyyy..here's what I wrote last night. Just some more bottled up thoughts that needed to be released, really.

I will never feel like I belong, because I don't. I will always run towards solitude for comfort, knowing that the world will only taunt me for sharing my heart's pleas. I refuse to be labeled a 'control-freak', thus my lips shall remain sealed, & I will not allow myself to become involved.  

All I want is some certainty that puts a smile upon my face. All I want is freedom; the freedom to run away from time to time, in search of what needs to be sought. Don't restrict me, don't constrain me, don't hold me down.  

Let me be; let me revel in my solitude, as my thoughts take the shape of letters. Letters that form words and string into coherent sentences. Sentences that depict the critical state I've reached, and want to flee. 

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3aala w Barakateh  

Post-'whirlwind' wedding

Salaaaaaam Allaaaaaahhhh 3lykmmm!

Oh-SO-much has changed, since the last time I posted on this blog! Let's see..I'm a live-in wifey now, and y'all know what that entails. Yes, I've started cooking..I've even started using makeup, & no..not as war paint. I've actually learned how to apply makeup from Youtube tutorials. They actually make sense to me now; it's not like they're using some alien language that leaves me utterly bewildered.

Here's a funny thing: I still live in my parents' house, though. With Bu3awas. That's a ginormous relief; gone are the long-distance days, Al7mdlla..I wasn't a fan of them, I kid you not! That's the only information I'm dishing out; the stalkerish activity on my blog has me wary and all that jazz.

I've not written anything in ages, and I'm beginning to suspect that the writer in me has either slipped into a coma, or a grave. But then you obviously know that, since this blog's been neglected for the longest time ever, in its 'life'.

I don't really know what to write anymore, because now that I'm married..if I were to write a depressive post, people would immediately jump to the conclusion that something's wrong with the marriage. If I resorted to ranting here, Bu3awas might read it and assume the worst..so yeah. I guess it's just 'safer'..this 'negligence'. For now, at least.

I don't even know if you guys read this blog anymore; I mean, it's been quite a long time since I received a comment of some sort! Not that Blogger compromises on anonymity, but I've actually got an Ask.Fm page now, for those of you who have any questions to ask, or anything to share. So, feel free to drop a line, or a paragraph. Whatever you're 'into', really..here: http://ask.fm/um3awas

I don't know when I'm going to get the chance to write here again, and what 'news' I might have for you when I do, but yeah. 'Til next time, keep safe and happy.

With all the shit this world brings to you...bag it up and ship it off to the nearest manure manufacturing plant, will ya?

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Change

Salam 3lykm,

Ugh, down with what seems like the flu. Couldn't breathe properly last night, because my nose was blocked, & I can't sleep unless the covers are pulled up over my head..so I ended up writing again. You can tell my thoughts were all scrambled up, but guess what? Not only did I manage to fall asleep til 530AM, but I also found the piece quite therapeutic. Feeling very light-headed as I type, so let's get on with it, shall we?

As I stand before the mirror, I fail to recognize the girl staring back at me. People said I would change, but I vehemently denied it. Why would I let a total stranger change me?!

My husband changed me. Everyday, I let go of yet another piece of me, in exchange for his happiness. I'm not 'selfless' at all; in fact, I do it for myself, really. His happiness brightens up my life, and sculpts my Hereafter. Totally selfish. 

It can become quite a struggle, and I'll admit..I'm scared. Hell, I'm terrified of starting a new life together. I'm known to give in to denial, turn around, and shut the world out. I'm known to resort to the solace I find in isolation. But my worst fear is giving up. 

It's beautiful now, al7mdlla..absolutely befuddled by marriage at this stage. But..isn't everyone? It's just the beginning. Will I be able to make the same claim, a few years down the line? This is what terrifies me.

..Then again, my Creator knows what is best for me, and it's comforting to realize my marriage is a big leap of faith. It leaves me knowing my Sustainer won't leave me stranded..

Arranged or not, my marriage is meant to be. 

Blissfully Forgotten

Salam 3lykm

You know how they say..'your face will forever stay imprinted in my mind, and I'll never forget you for as long as I live' about someone you cared about? Funny thing is, you actually do look back at things that once made you cry, and laugh. Sb7analla, I stumbled across some really old files on my PC..& I couldn't help bursting into a fit of crazy giggles, LOL.x$

I have long forgotten what you look like, let alone what you sound like. Your name has become like countless other names out there, Al7mdlla. I try to remember that which I tried for SO long to forget, yet it is like you & I never happened. Al7mdlla.

So here's some consolation for those of you out there, who think they're going through a heart-piercing breakup: time heals. I swear I didn't believe that for as long as I was told it, but someday, you'll be able to look at it as just another experience. Merely another valuable lesson learned.

And here's some advice for you 'lil ones' out there: as irresistible and intriguing the media makes a premarital relationship seem, I swear you're better off waiting for your spouse, trust me. Relationships are only the hard way around learning why intermingling of the sexes is forbidden in Islam, if you ask me.

Don't demean those three valuable words..save 'em for the one who actually proves it to you in ink. *Think 'the legal bond', not a friggin' love letter, mind you ._.* Save 'em for the one who legalizes his/her love for you in front of the entire world.

Treat "I love you" like something sacred; indeed, the only one worthy of it is he/she who isn't reluctant/afraid of letting the world know..it's only YOU he/she wants to spend the rest of his/her life with.

PS. This post wasn't supposed to be all mushy, gooey, and lovey-dovey; it just took a sudden turn in that direction.xD
PPS. I deemed premarital relationships wrong long before I got married, right after I'd gone down the 'wrong way'..to the notorious 'Dark Side'.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

To Celebrate..or NOT?

Salam 3lykm,

Birthdays aren't meant to be celebrated, innit? And I always knew that..but try sharing the same birthday with your spouse! I swear that's just something irresistibly 'celebratable'!x$ And yes, I speak from experience; Bu3awas turns 24 on the 22nd, while I turn 23.=$

Besides, it's our first birthday together..maybe I've been brainwashed, but tell me that isn't easy to overlook! I'm thinking of celebrating it on the 23rd, though..because that technically has no significance, innit?O:) Deep down inside, I know it's just wrong!x_x

Gimme ideas, suggestions..whatever! Help a sista out, 'yall! I've been providing free 'entertainment' for a few years, already..here's your chance to make it all worthwhile!x$

I await your comments this time over!

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

A Single Step

Salam 3lykm,

Should I start with, "I'm grateful to be alive today?" That would be very unlikely under normal circumstances, but let's just say, I am. Yesterday, it was just one step that saved my life. Literally. Again, it was Allah's Protection & Will, undoubtedly..but had I not retreated, I suppose my family would have been receiving condolences on my demise today.

Sb7analla..no life flashed before my eyes, when I saw that speeding car heading towards me. All I saw were really bright headlights, to be honest. All I could think about was, "I've not prayed elm'3arb yet, wana mb mtwa'9ia." Strangely enough, I didn't think of anyone, 'til that car whizzed past, ruffling my 3ba. I looked straight ahead and thought, "at least the hospital was close by".

It was surreal. A woman who was also waiting at the crossing shrieked, when I stepped down on the road. After all, the traffic light had turned red, and the pedestrian-crossing, green. Needless to say, as soon as the car went by, I crossed the road like nothing happened. "Like a boss." Lol, no seriously...I only realized what really happened when I came out of the shower. That's when everything hit me.

It would have been alright, I guess. Bu3awas would've been matched up with another girl, possibly a friend. Plenty'a fish in the sea, innit? My subjects would've been given to a colleague or two, &..well, my sister would finally have her own room, & maybe even her own laptop!:P Maybe the sudden death would've made my father realize the grave mistakes he's been committing, & he'd finally soften down on the family. Maybe.

Bottom line is, I'm alive. Al7mdlla. But whoever thought a single step could save a life, eh? I've heard about it, but never really gave it much consideration, to be quite honest.

I can't help wondering who Bu3awas would've married instead, though.x'$

'Til next time,

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Paranoia Kills

Salam 3lykm,

Yay, another post within days; my Blogger has miraculously come back to life!=D No, seriously..I just wanted to update my stalkers on my whereabouts. No, okay..all jokes aside, I just missed blogging.

I'm not writing any poems yet, nor am I writing deep, thought-provokingly poetic posts. I'm just nurturing this blog in hope that my thoughts will sort themselves out, before they're blog-bait. In other words, I'm resorting to blogging as therapy again.

Talking to people helps temporarily; you never know when they could use your thoughts against you. Through blogging, I suppose all these posts could be used against me, but at least I don't have to know what you think when you read my posts. Not commenting is working for me; keep it up. Honestly. I'm better off not knowing what you think of me.

This is my domain; I get to choose whether I want to be happy or sad, sane or deranged. Whatever I choose helps throw pent-up feelings out, where they can't cause my insides any damage. Right now, that's what I'm working on..'spring-cleaning my insides'.

If people really care, they do so without mocking you in your absence. They understand your stance, having been told how you feel. If they don't, then putting yourself out there as a mere source of their entertainment is just ridiculous.

Anyway, this part of the world is unbearably hot, so I'm thinking of taking a trip to where it's cold. The change would be good, and going off the grid for a while would be nice. Come to think of it, there's only one main source to all my problems:

The Internet.

If I were to shut down all accounts, nearly all my problems would go away. I'm currently testing this notion; I'm now saying no to social networking. Let's see how far that goes. Right, enough rambling for now,

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Leave Me Be

Salam 3lykm,

I found this in my drafts, written on the 5th of January, 2011. Thought I might as well blog it, because it describes my current thoughts perfectly. I don't know why I didn't blog it then, probably because our router went out at night as usual? I don't know, but anyway..here you go..more silent reading for you guys.:P

I'm beginning to fade away into a great space of nothingness, mesmerized by the sounds of happiness around me. Entranced. I don't want to join in, for fear I will be sucked into Oblivion that devours me. Happiness blinds, and so does Love. Yet, both are like addictive drugs that eat away at your very soul.

I don't want to be led, neither do I want to be followed. I don't want to know anyone, neither do I want to be known anymore. I just want to be let go. I want peace. I don't want to live in constant fear of my future. I don't want to make anymore friends or enemies. I don't want to inflict or be inflicted by blinding pain.

PS. Now I realize why I didn't blog it; it has this 'unfinished' touch to it. Well, that's how my life currently is, innit? Unfinished.

Farewell..'Til Further Notice

Salam 3lykm,

Here's something I wrote last night, after talking to Mommie-Dearest about 'life'.

A word of advice: Never tell your children they're engaged. Unless things have finalized, don't say a word to them. 'Specially not to your lil princesses. Because when their sky-high castles are torn down, so is your heart. Al7mdlla 3la kl 7aal.

I am single. I am in the prime years of my life, and I'm no longer waiting around for this charming Bu 3awas guy to sweep me off my feet like a broom. No. I'm through with that whole 'wife-in-waiting' phase. It's just too painful. Build high hopes, and eventually..I know they'll come crashing down. I'm no longer holding on to this fantasy; I'm taking the advice of several people I know, when I say, 'I'm letting go'.

What caused this change? Well, it's pointless. Why should I be this damsel in distress, waiting for her prince to come a-knockin'? I don't mean to be an airhead, but al7mdlla..I'm still desirable. Why should I tie myself down with an imaginary weight? That's what this whole fantasy is, really. Don't get me wrong..I still love Bu 3awas. And he'll know that when he comes around. But I'm pretty sure he isn't wallowing around in misery over me, so I'm done doing that!

I'm single, and until I sign an official legal document that states otherwise, I'm nothing but that. I'm still Um 3awas, but bear in mind..there really NEVER was a Bu 3awas. ;) Unless of course, you consider Imam At-Tirmidhi's Kniya. x'D

So..if you're out there 'Bu 3awas', good for you, mate. Your existence is totally insignificant to me, love..'til you sign the Legal Bond, & perhaps..put a dazzling rock on this finger. I sure as hell deserve it, for waiting this long.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Goodbye Trust

Salam 3lykm

Who's the sweet reader who liked the last post? You put a smile on my face, lol! Thanx walla, shows I still have the ability to write 'okayishly'. This post will probably HORRIBLY prove me wrong, bs yalla..it's the thought that counts!xP Love you, 'Liker'!<3;d

OK, that was just random..I'm really HIGH right now! I anticipate a depression-FREE weekend, and I'm going to make sure it ROCKS Inshalla! I owe it to myself, and the poor people that have to tolerate my nonsense!

I'm abandoning technology. Sure, I abuse it, but in return, it totally screws me over. If anything, as long as I didn't know what the Internet was..I was a happy-go-lucky kid, wreaking of naivety and innocence. Now, I've become this paranoid, edgy individual who analyzes every word that comes out of others' mouths. 7sn e'6ann came easy, almost naturally..before. Now..I gotta remind myself..إن بعض الظن إثم..nearly all the time. If anyone says something nice or praises me, I think, what's your 'hidden agenda'? Seriously. Not good.

I can't imagine anyone liking me for ME. What's there in me to like, anyway?=S I've always had this, 'I-don't want-to-impose-myself-on-you' sort'a attitude. So, if someone comes up to me, I always think, as long as you want something done, you remember I'm alive. It's bad, I know..bs that's how it's always been. The only time someone would remember I exist, is when they'd want something from me. Otherwise, ehh..who's [insert Um 3eesa's name]?

So, forgive me *I really, truly, profusely apologize from the very depths of my scarred heart!* if you've genuinely tried to be nice to me and I've seemed like a total weirdo, but thanks to all the cheaters/backstabbers and betrayals I've faced, I've decided to 'step up the security'. Yep. I'm trusting NOBODY now. Literally nobody. People I considered really close to me, ALSO betrayed me. And now...goodbye Trust. I can't even trust anyone if they're religious now, because that image has been tainted by a scarring experience.

Note: My inability to trust anyone cuz of these lovely people who've left painful memories in my life does NOT mean that I hold a grudge against them. Thanks to them, I have learned things I wouldn't have EVER learned without their help. They literally helped me face different 'challenges' in life..so no regrets, Al7mdlla.

I just cannot trust ANYBODY blindly anymore.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Finished.

Salam 3lykm

An update; only because I'm extremely bored right now!:P Life's good after 7AM, it peaks at 1130AM, coming back down sharply at 315PM. Then it goes downhill from there, sometimes a VERY sharp decline, peaking at whatever time WIFI goes out :P, then climbs back up slowly again, depending on what happens much later at night. *No wandering thoughts, Readers!xD*

I'm teaching now..and it's wonderful. =) That's the highlight of my life at this point, no knight in shining armor.:P Trip to Pakistan was canceled, and was supposed to go to G6r instead, but since the only 'freedom' we get is when Dad goes on his weekend trips, I backed out.xD I doubt we're moving out of here, because for that...you need to work together as a family...and that's..just not happening..completely dysfunctional..Allah al Musta3aan.

That's about it. Writing is now depressive, because when I write..that's all I can write about. Or Bu 3eesa. But that's even more depressive. For all I know, I could be dying single. So, I'm going to go and do something that really brings a smile to my face: coloring. No, I'm not confused about my age. It really is very relaxing; I love coloring roses. Obsessed about roses, and no..not because they signify love. =.=

I hate stereotyping and generalization. But wait, life's too short to hate, innit? So let me just obsess over roses for now. Yeah, I like 'em crimson, too. If 'love' wandered back into your mind, you need help. Seriously. And I thought I was blinded.

Okay, I'm done here. Oh, muchas gracias to the people who actually bother using the 'Reactions' feature; you guys rock!;* The rest of you..you need to a learn a thing or two from these guys..honestly..how lazy can y'all get?=.= ;P

Nah, joking. Love ya all. Even if you continue to read silently. And get on my nerves because of that. It clearly looks like I've lost my 'touch', innit? Such a bland post, ugh.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

PS. My mood's too messed up to color. Ed3ooli please.