The lies I tread, the lines that thread through the eyes

Tawheed (توحيد) is the ultimate alignment with God source, the surrendering of free will which essentially is a creative resistance, a breakaway from the divine will. Something that we were gifted with to test us whether we’d find our way back or we’d be convinced by the original rogue Agent.

It’s to come back full circle and hand in the keys, choosing to stand by instead of being on the playground of illusions. It’s to know that you can’t ever see through the truth even though it’s plain and simple because you’re not equipped to see and understand Allaah’s essence like that. Illusions are super easy to see through and that’s why they are always hidden in plain sight, overly complicated to give off the impression of divinity, of omnipotence. It’s predicated on making you doubt yourself so you can project your consciousness onto it, seemingly animating the illusion. You’re believing your own lies.

But Allaah has given you the keys to the house, the car, full transparency. You’re actively encouraged to look for inconsistencies if you can find any. He’s subtly teaching you how to see through illusions, don’t you get it? By giving you full autonomy and permission to question and explore Him or your perception of Him, He’s dispersing the clouds of mystique and aloofness that demonic forces shroud illusions in.

You can’t see through the truth because there is no end to it. There’s nothing that takes over it. It’s abundant and limitless.Because it’s an extension of Allaah. Illusions however use a fragment of the truth, eviscerate the essence of it which is love, fill it with fear and ego, and present it as Truth. It can be a kind word, charity, even claims of being religious. Virtue signalling. But it’s anything but. It’s a ruse. It’s a scam. It’s to wear something you don’t embody. It’s to appear in a way solely for the purpose of being upheld in people’s positive projections on you.

Illusions are words. Think about it. If people were mute and deaf , how would they show off? How would they get their fix if they can’t hear what people are saying about them? How would they convey anything other than their actions?

And that’s another reason Iblees hates Adam. Iblees knew the objects but Adam was given the essence of their names. Iblees thought that because he’s seen what his peers on earth haven’t seen or known, that that endowed him with grandeur. Adam exposed him without meaning to (no pun intended!). Iblees was triggered because he realized if the angels themselves were dumbfounded, he could never shine. To him, the angels were on the top of the chain, the elite. He thought the divine was an aristocracy. To see them surrender and readily admit their blunder in favour of Adam enraged him. I guess he eventually wanted to be put on a pedestal by the angels. He thought he was on the comeup. Adam shatters his ladder of illusions and there’s no going back from that.

Though Adam knew the meanings and names, he didn’t know the purpose. He only learnt of the purpose when he was misled by Iblees beating him to it by telling him what he can’t contest or discern anyway. That’s what iblees excels in btw. To find the piece of information you don’t know and lay claims to it before you can challenge him. And then instill fear or doubt in you so that you don’t dare explore it. He’s smart, gotto give him that. But intelligence means nothing really. Wisdom does. Wisdom to know there’s always something you’re not aware of.

Whisper

It’s not about what people see in you but what Allaah shows people through you

Risk

The measure of a woman is in how much truth she can accept and embody
The measure of a man is in how much love he can receive and surrender to

soul waves ❤

Loneliness is when you’re alienated from yourself

Solitude carries a negative connotation because perhaps we associate confinement and death to it

We were alone in the womb, and we’ll be alone in the tomb

So perhaps we want to break out of our corporal shell and be free by following our impulses

Perhaps we think that as long as we avoid ourselves, we avoid death

As if death can only meet us when we’re conscious.

Or we erroneously believe that solitude entails isolation, and that we either belong to a group or we dwell in solitude.

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I’ve forgotten how to be human

Exactly a decade ago I was imprisoned by my mind, plagued by my fears, shattered by my sensitivities, robbed of hope by my daemons. For years I stood still and closed my eyes to the darkness surrounding me, only to find it behind my eyelids again. Every step I took felt so insignificant because I couldn’t see anything at all. But I kept on taking those steps because they gave me something to hope for, something to look forward for. Never did I even dare to fathom that a day would come when I’d be out in the open, free. Never dared the faintest whisper of hope enter my heart that one day I’d find myself. Never ever did I think that I’d stand in my truth, however fragile or flawed. But here I am.

I’m 25 but I feel like 35. Because my pain was intense, my growth was exponential. But once in the open, once I took the first wobbly steps outside, as my own person, I noticed that the world had moved on, and the world assumed I did too. No one wants to hear about a struggle unless you can quantify it, unless you’re paid $100 000 per speaking engagement. Because the truth is that majority of humans remain imprisoned within themselves. Their thoughts, their feelings,their dreams are limited to the tiny crook they assigned themselves to. People are afraid of the unknown because they are yet to explore the unknown within. They suppress their inner pain only to find it outside themselves,in the world, in other people and so they spend what’s left of their lives running away from it all, straight to their grave because the grave is a familiar comfort zone. The only freedom is the one you gain by fighting your fears, the only life is courage.

I’ve forgotten how to be a human. My reclusion made my muscles weak, the comfort eating that kept me company in the dark tunnels turned into unforgiving weight gain. Makeup is a confusing art. Black is my go-to colour. I throw on an abaya and put on sneakers and out I go. I don’t look…glam. But to be able to go out and laugh and not be afraid of being happy for fear of sadness…it’s such a miraculous feeling. I’ve forgotten how green it gets in the summer, how fresh dawn smells, how the horizon is so close yet so far away. I am so grateful, so so grateful that I’m finally…me. I DO care what people say or think, I DO get hurt, but I do not budge. I will not budge. I will not hide my unfavourable truth despite feeling embarrassed when I do . I own my truth and I will not let anyone taint that. My flaws, however horrible, are mine. Can I be too real? No. I can only be who I am, even if that person is….a weirdo.

“Jane, be still; don’t struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation.”
“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

— Charlotte Brontë (Jane Eyre)

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