Meet me half way.

I am *so* having a party on top of the mountain. Yes please.

The Qur'aan.

When I forget, I can always go back to you.

That dusty old book I keep on the top shelf,

behind all forgotten memories.

Calling my name when I ignore,

the cries it makes as I flee after eight.

That dusty old book that smells like home,

safe and guarded with life and oblivion,

the smell of Thursday nights and mingled breaths and echos

as we move like one

and pray for people with angst and pain

as hope builds with our minds and beings.

That dusty old book that solves our problems 

and lessens our fear as our eyes roll over

the meanings of our past and

utter bismillahir rahman nir rahim with love and devotion

and sacrifice. 

  

That dusty old book I opened this month,

believing that my desires and sins will vanish before me

as my hands run down your dusty spine and beautiful words

with tears lingering and smudged smiles.

Sighing with you, remembering the past as today,

I'll keep you close between my heart and ribs

and you can be remember me with my voice and endings. 

Too much things to do and no more time left.

"I'm a black hole where happy things come to an end."


This is really frightening (in a funny - loser sorta way.)Okay, let me start from the beginning: 

• In August I got a Art assignment,Beautiful, which is due September and I can't get ANY inspirations. 

• Last week Thursday, fast started so I'm fasting (yay, but I haven't even lost a kilo yet. Bitch.)

• Friday, I got a design project and some homework relating to that. (Do you see? School will and can be your living nightmare. Arg.)

• I am trying to find an Eid outfit, but I hate shopping and my granny always makes me and my sister's outfit for this occasion.

And I have to do all these things at once. MY LIFE is crazy. It's really funny that at the end of the day I always get whatever I have to do done. Huh. If anybody has ideas for Beautiful, that'd be great. 
  

To you. You. And you.

Happy Ramadan to all the muslims.