Days have passed, thoughts have flooded the page.

There's something to be said of feeling ill. Though it's not sickness that ails me. I'm so depressed. I feel like crying. But why? I'm not an emotional person. I'm rational. I tell myself that all the time. I'm not even allowing myself to wallow in how sad I really am. Because words are magic. I told them that today. And they are. Words are magic. They have the power to make you happy or sad. They have the power to raise you or lower you. That's why we choose our words carefully....but it's my world in my head. Yet, even here I choose my words carefully. As if uttering the words so darkly veiled in the crevices of that space inside this vessel would cause the avalanche I so fear.
Ignorance is bliss. Yet, I knew it was coming. I voiced concern. It got us nowhere. Except the ignorance only resulted in delayed anguish...can we save the one's we love from heartache? can we deny what we see developing before our eyes just to save one more day's happiness in our minds? We can. But it comes with a price. We are paying it. (There, i've said it aloud...now what? do i get swallowed under? do i die? if it were only that easy...no catastrophe shall hit, only that which we cause by our own hands, our own deeds).

We are selfish. We cry not for the dead, we cry for ourselves, for our loneliness, for our plot in life, not theirs. We are selfish.

When he spoke of the Kaaba, Madina, I cried. Me. The rational being I pretend to be. I cried. I hate crying in front of people. I hid my tears. Not that it was hard. I think we all secretly cried. We are selfish. I want it for myself so bad...I'm old enough to want it SO bad.

The package of gifts was quickly devoured in their hands. My portion came out. I used my senses to own it before I possessed it. I wore the scarves. I prayed on the rug. But most importantly, I wished for the scent of the sand, the city. I wished to be transported through an object into the world I wanted. I felt Libyan to possess of the country. But I'll never BE Libyan, until the smell is of me, the sea flows with me, the sounds seduce me, the sand envelopes me. I'll never BE until I've been. Every inch of me desires that land, that family, those values. I feel pulled towards it. As the ocean rises to be closer to the moon, so my body begs to be delivered there.

So I'm the last one standing. Funny. I always said I wouldn't mind being the last. That if it had to be this way, I was the strongest. I am, I think. But...darn...I should have been careful of what I wished for.

A Night at the Museum...

Okay, so it was actually the daytime. But I thought since the movie was #1 for so long (although i'm not sure why), I thought maybe my blog would become the #1 blog for a while (although I'm not sure why I thought that).

:)

Anyway, I totally got to go to the museum! WOOHOO! I've been wanting to go for so long now, that I almost gave up on actually going. But when I saw the sign at school that said "FREE ADMISSION" to Philbrook with my ID, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. And on top of that, alhamdulillah, I finally convinced my brother to go with me.

So yeah it was interesting. I took some awesome pics (Adam was being uncreative most of the time...but with my creative genius and his skill with his amazing camera, we're a pretty good team).

My favorite piece of art wasn't there on Sunday, but it doesn't matter. I got to see a man picking his nose while painted a million colors:


I even was allowed to enjoy the delicious peaches painted just for me (YUM):

Then I saved a fish from drowning in the pond on the grounds! ("My hero!" the fish sputtered as he ran on his merry way.)

I learned something important (dead people's words can live on when imprinted on seats...) and even the importance of everyday things (like this ceramic suitcase...I guess art is in the eye of the artist? :)

There was even an interesting tree I couldn't help but touch!

Add to all that the beautiful grounds that made me feel like a character out of a Jane Austen novel (how superb!) and you've got magic enough to make anyone happy!

Ya Halawa!

...little kids dancing.........haram!
...little kids kicking feet in air that is similar to really bad 'break dancing'....haram!
...imitating the kafir...so haram! (I mean what were we thinking?)
...saying this in front of everyone including the kids who then went home crying...ya haram!

...my days here are numbered...

seems purely hypocritical to me

Allah knows best, but this was simply ridiculous. No wonder our kids think Islam is so hard and then do things so bad (but not while imitating the kafir...haram!)

I'm so gone next year...so gone...

Allah knows best kamlah...Allah knows best...but I don't believe it and therefore cannot live in it. Maybe I'll leave and then miss it so much that I'll come back. Or maybe I won't and I'll get paid more, be appreciated more, and learn more than my neverending lessons in reinventing the wheel that I feel are never EVER ending.

Dude I love and hate this place.

Love it mostly.

Hate it when I think about what happened.

I'm burnt out and need to get away.

Umm....reminder to self: Allah knows best.