No more
So
We had some great times. Great moments. Hell, I even believed we were actually going somewhere.
Something changed.
You began to treat me like a thing you owned. A thing you showed off. You smothered me.
Made me both the object of your possession and the subject of your insecurities.
No matter how much you disbelieve me, those could never be grounds for any kind of friendship.
That’s what I saw and felt in my heart to be true of you.
My (personal) opinion was that it wasn’t a friendship. Because no two friends ever treated each other this way, and if they did, they didn’t last very long.
And no, by no means does this single me out as the saint in the sky. I hate that.
But I came out to tell you enough was enough. That I couldn’t be in whatever it was we were trying to have. I took that step. Me. Handled poorly? Sure. But it was the truth. You say you’re mature and grown up and whatever. Well, grown ups handle truth. There was no other way to say “Well sorry I’m out.”
It was as clear as day.
All you had to do was accept it; you could’ve moved on with your life in search of a better me or even a better you.
But you didn’t.
As if I could be tailored in some weird new way to suit you. Or stranger yet, you tailored to suit me.
You clinched your fists and held on to me like something out of a movie.
But the happy ending you wanted just wasn’t there. You insisted and tried so hard, it became nothing short of utter malcontent.
You’ve won all the points for being the soldiering soldier in the one sided battle.
And was THAT ever the problem. There just wasn’t enough violence for you. The spying, the deceiving, the slandering, the threatening, the blackmailing. Just wow. I have no words to describe just how much of a neurotic person lived inside someone I thought I knew.
I put up with it because I felt sorry for you.
It was like each day made it more clear to me just why I pushed myself into leaving you behind. Because I didn’t feel right around you. You’ve justified that quite brilliantly for me.
But it’s okay. Somehow you’re still the victim, and I’m the villain that walked away from you. I’m glad that that’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to you.
I broke a promise to you that I would break a million times over. I accept that.
But tell me, friend, what can you accept?
What can you possibly own up to?
Not much I presume.
Tell me. What kind of friend apologizes and then lashes out in rage and anger when the apology is accepted, forgiveness is dispensed, but the outcome isn’t entirely what he expects?
Tell me. What kind of a liar am I really, when you falsely claim to be someone you’re not and try to poison people against me with horrible stories stripped of any and all fact?
Tell me, friend. What back have I stabbed when everything I’ve ever had to say, was said to you and directly to your face?
Tell me. What kind of person emails another person with disturbing phrases describing violent acts to one’s family?
Tell me, friend. What kind of person goes on the all-out offensive to publish written literature about a ‘friend that was never’ in a desperate attempt to come out on top of the mess you’ve caused?
You didn’t just mess up. You messed up after you messed up. You’re still messing up.
And here, I specifically remember this one time where you got me to unfollow someone because they were writing things that hurt my feelings.
What has happened to you? Really?
All this for a lousy friendship that didn’t work?
All this?
Are you like this with all the things and people in your life?
I’m not unkind. I’m not unforgiving. You know this.
With strong conviction, I say please don’t test me beyond what you’ve already done. Just because I’m mostly quiet doesn’t mean I will not use every fiber in my being to defend myself one day when the occasion arises.
That being said, I don’t want to be in that position nor do I wish you any harm.
I do in fact want you to have a happy life and I do in fact wish you all the best.
Actually I would love to see you do positive things; I would love to see you live life to the fullest. Without hate. I know that you know deep down in your heart that I’m sincere.
I cannot apologize to you because by principle I have wronged you in no way but an abrupt end. And in my opinion, it had to happen that way.
I will go as far as saying here and now, that if I have truly wronged you then who better than Allah to redeem you your rights? And I pray that he does if I am at fault.
But in the spirit of truth, I also feel I am owed an apology, as are other people whom have been wrongfully effected by the madness.
I will not ask you for it because even in the case that I won’t ever receive one, I forgive you the wrongs you have done me. I cannot forgive you on behalf of others. That is in their hands.
I sincerely wish you the best of luck and prosperity. This is my final message to you should you ever choose to read it.
Design
I’ve heard it once… that beautiful sound…
I want to hear it again…
—-
Many words will simply not explain this. The very entity of words seem to want me to try nonetheless.
I’ve been asked the question: “So, Hamad, what are your flaws?” in a number of contexts. My answer, back then was a simple smile and the shrugging of my shoulders. Quite often, I see that the person asking me ends up thinking that my answer pertains to being elusive, and quite contrarily, it is far from that. As simple as it may seem, I believe that the simplest questions are often the most profound, and they are often the hardest for me to answer.
Today, I have a smile on my face, minus the shrugging of my shoulders. I can try to explain it much more than is needed, but Occam would be proud of me when I say that the simple question, now has a simple answer. And it is quite interesting, yet strangely misleading, that my simple answer is quite a paradoxical one… and something tells me that Occam wouldn’t mind it this time… not even in the slightest.
Truth: I sometimes feel that the reason I’m here, in this universe, is a humorous one… like I’m being watched, and smiled upon… and I love it.
Truth: I don’t matter… and I love it.
Truth: I feel that I am accounted for, not just by people… and I love it.
Truth: My purpose may change the world, or just myself… and I love it.
Truth: I am myself… and I love it… so very much.
—-
I came into this world, was given a set of parameters (rules) for a given formula (society), and was told that this is how things worked. I grew up. Spent a good amount of time defying this formula and proved it (to myself) wrong on an incredible number of levels, by simply proving (again, to myself) that the base level is mathematically invalid, thus, logically, the chain reaction of invalidity followed very nicely.
And where has that left me?
Lost in my thoughts. The only place I know where things make sense.
I compare myself, my thoughts, against the choices and mathematical equations (mentalities) of other people to see just how sane I am, not how insane they are (I’ve done enough of that, believe me).
—-
Does the formula work? Yes. It really does.
You build a bridge from one cliff to another, and you get across. It works.
How do you build a bridge? Metallic resources and framework, applied using a base of beautifully and harmoniously orchestrated static physics principles.
Or, in our societies’ cases, people.
And when seven billion people in the world choose to cross bridges made entirely of people, it’s hard to see the moral lining. This, however, does not excuse any of us.
—-
I cannot make this anymore clear:
No energy in this universe is lost. (The first law of Thermodynamics)
So for those of us who do not believe in god, your choices are accounted for, one way or another. For those of us who do believe in god, your choices are accounted for… one way or another.
Thus, I welcome you, to Earth. Where you shall be tested.
Should you decide to cheat, you will gain the position you cheated yourself into having. And your choice will fail you, simply because you chose to take something that does not belong to you. Your very self, will not want to have it… and It shall be the responsibility that you cheated yourself to bear, one that you were never meant to be held accountable for. But alas, accountable you shall be held. The world was fair to you, and you chose to be unfair to yourself.
Become a person that makes life hard on everyone around you, and you will have chosen to surround yourself with hardships and misery. Become an absolute blessing and joy to everyone around you, respectful and good in every sense, and you will have chosen to surround yourself with joy, respect and that which is good. Your choices matter. They have more of a meaning than you’ll ever realize. But there’s only so much I can say to you, you have to wake up and see for yourself.
I am not your enemy, friend.
The price of the solution? “Gratitude will suffice,” he says to me.
Thus, gratitude will suffice, I say to you.
Solution:
Make every little or big thing that you say or do to anyone or anything, count, not in substance, but only in yourself. Know that if it is all energy, and energy is the one thing that can never be lost, then only that very same energy is of real value, and all else… is simply and inevitably lost, as all else was created by us, and shall undoubtedly die with us.
Be true to others, by being true to yourself.
—-
Drained was a personal project I started a little over a year ago. I needed it as much as it needed me.
The purpose of it was to drain my mind of all the clutter… all the noise… all of what I’ve been programmed and taught to say and do. (Depicted nicely in my clever banner.)
This was of course, in order to see more clearly how I could live a better life, and more importantly, be a better person.
I don’t think I’ve ever had anything in my life change me this much…
The purpose has been served, and like all things that have served their purpose, it must now end.
I’ll never forget what this blog has done for me. I’ll never forget the people that have helped me through it.
I thank you, every one of you.
—-
“The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving.” -Oliver Wendell Holmes 1809-1894
—-
Music: Hoppípolla by Sigur Rós
Drained 