Dear you,
It's time I confess that I'm doing writing injustice. I'm using writing to vent, not to create something beautiful. But I'd like to think that, in the same way I created beautiful words for the sake of writing, it's time for writing to give me something. Some ease, some inner peace. I need peace, I terribly need peace of mind.
I came here without anything in mind in particular, but I knew that the feelings will come out once I start. A few months ago, I started watching a new series whose main character kept saying "fuck society." And my first trigger for watching the series was this scene where he talked to his therapist about how fucked up our societies are. But that was in the modern states, let alone a country in which I live.
Since June, I've been unable to acknowledge that I've been feeling this way. I know rebels and out-of-the-box people like myself will always resent society, but it's the society I live in, in particular, which I more than hate. I detest. I abhor. Nothing can ever describe the feeling of wanting out. I want out of everything, technically of everything I'm in and I've been doing for the past six months. I need to go back and look at the much bigger picture. I need to see how much I achieve in life to be able to understand and realise that what I've been doing hasn't gone completely in vain.
I have to admit that I left the manuscript of my book ready for over a year until I decided it was time to take a step forward. In reality, it was him who gave me that step forward and all the motivation to keep going, though I had no place, in particular, to go to. But he was there all the way.
I realised that I've been telling the wrong people about my life, and that nobody deserves even the highlights of my life, let alone the details. I've decided to hold back everything for only one person, while the other small, trivial parts of my life would be spared for those who only had the curiosity to know. If you are so curious about someone's life, how can you call yourself a friend, in the first place?
I've always said that I doubted my intentions, until my sheikh told me that whenever I did, I should renew them and start anew, and, at the end of the day, it's what we call jihad of the self, al nafs. It's hard, but the path to Allah is never easy. I believe we live in the societies which the prophet PBUH told about, in which keeping your faith would be like holding live coal. I truly believe that we live in this age. Everyone's being dishonest with themselves, and nobody understands why all these killings in the world take place. It's a messed up world!
Nonetheless, facing the realities of life, as depressing as they are, forces us to come to one realisation: there's only one God that we can turn to when everything is going wrong, not people, not anyone, only the urge to speak to the creator. I've always liked people who encouraged us to tell God about everything trivial we go through, and I've always loved the idea that God already knows, but He chooses to listen to us, because He loves when we turn to him, and he never turns us down. It's so beautiful.
I've come to let these thoughts out to read them whenever I needed to, because I've always believed that when you rethink and rethink ideas in your head, they become your reality, and I need this reality in my life. Because I'm so drained, consumed, and terrifyingly exhausted. And as much as I feel so, there's comfort in knowing that nothing lasts forever, and there is so, so much comfort in knowing that it only gets worse before it gets better, and it's darkest before dawn.
I love you, or him, more than the words I've written ever since I became a writer.
Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.
It's time I confess that I'm doing writing injustice. I'm using writing to vent, not to create something beautiful. But I'd like to think that, in the same way I created beautiful words for the sake of writing, it's time for writing to give me something. Some ease, some inner peace. I need peace, I terribly need peace of mind.
I came here without anything in mind in particular, but I knew that the feelings will come out once I start. A few months ago, I started watching a new series whose main character kept saying "fuck society." And my first trigger for watching the series was this scene where he talked to his therapist about how fucked up our societies are. But that was in the modern states, let alone a country in which I live.
Since June, I've been unable to acknowledge that I've been feeling this way. I know rebels and out-of-the-box people like myself will always resent society, but it's the society I live in, in particular, which I more than hate. I detest. I abhor. Nothing can ever describe the feeling of wanting out. I want out of everything, technically of everything I'm in and I've been doing for the past six months. I need to go back and look at the much bigger picture. I need to see how much I achieve in life to be able to understand and realise that what I've been doing hasn't gone completely in vain.
I have to admit that I left the manuscript of my book ready for over a year until I decided it was time to take a step forward. In reality, it was him who gave me that step forward and all the motivation to keep going, though I had no place, in particular, to go to. But he was there all the way.
I realised that I've been telling the wrong people about my life, and that nobody deserves even the highlights of my life, let alone the details. I've decided to hold back everything for only one person, while the other small, trivial parts of my life would be spared for those who only had the curiosity to know. If you are so curious about someone's life, how can you call yourself a friend, in the first place?
I've always said that I doubted my intentions, until my sheikh told me that whenever I did, I should renew them and start anew, and, at the end of the day, it's what we call jihad of the self, al nafs. It's hard, but the path to Allah is never easy. I believe we live in the societies which the prophet PBUH told about, in which keeping your faith would be like holding live coal. I truly believe that we live in this age. Everyone's being dishonest with themselves, and nobody understands why all these killings in the world take place. It's a messed up world!
Nonetheless, facing the realities of life, as depressing as they are, forces us to come to one realisation: there's only one God that we can turn to when everything is going wrong, not people, not anyone, only the urge to speak to the creator. I've always liked people who encouraged us to tell God about everything trivial we go through, and I've always loved the idea that God already knows, but He chooses to listen to us, because He loves when we turn to him, and he never turns us down. It's so beautiful.
I've come to let these thoughts out to read them whenever I needed to, because I've always believed that when you rethink and rethink ideas in your head, they become your reality, and I need this reality in my life. Because I'm so drained, consumed, and terrifyingly exhausted. And as much as I feel so, there's comfort in knowing that nothing lasts forever, and there is so, so much comfort in knowing that it only gets worse before it gets better, and it's darkest before dawn.
I love you, or him, more than the words I've written ever since I became a writer.
Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.
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