Saturday, February 2, 2008


A game to play forgetting you are the winning loser
A heart numb to a feeling of attached undetachable despair
Your wings broken to the height of freedom – although you beg each time to get out of this pricking kingdom –
Soul bleeding from the heavy distance with loving your identity – you have long lost the ability to change your destiny- held down by the magnitude of sorrow, the latitude of hollow - even though you imagine each and every second how it would be like – if you would just fight – to get out of your homely mess – if you could kill this repressing cold pressing stress –
And see the light of a new day –where nothing and no one can be in your way – where you become leader of your passion and your mind convinces you what you convince yourself – because you are united as one – as one under the sun – and no addiction could ever devil in between and darken the space of heaven you have come to breathe and seize –

You must become empowered by your beauty that you are stronger than any addiction – letting go of a witches grasp – you don’t have to gasp – in order to barely survive – you love who you are – a shining independent star – not locked down and hidden deep down in a delve under the earth shattering so far – where no one can hear your screams that rage beneath your dreams and cry for a hand to pull up your monsterly affairs – but no one cares – except an addiction that leaves you thinking you are alone –and nothing else could ever be in store – depressing you into a fit of hypnotized anger – that slowly turns love into danger – and loss becomes better – with an addiction -

I urge you to believe you are not captive, and this addiction is not native in your memories or in your hands – in your eyes –
This addiction is a foreign madness sheltering fearfully in you - until you remember you have taken care of it for far too long – until you come to face and linger about the reasons why it all went wrong – the addiction will race to confront any trace of you strengthening to hold on to a rope of hope – all the mistakes it bakes into a cake of un edible destruction – you could never get over the broken relationships or the unforgivable hardships or whatever tormenting scholarship – to enter your world –

You need to think of it as a project of minds – where you become the owner, the profiteer, the one who captures fears and changes it into money to buy a second chance – you turn tears into investments of smiles – change lost property into based policy – that you are the success of your drawn up picture – you are the production of a special feature- that addiction would do anything to tear – anything to bring back the nightmare - so you can glare – back into the silence of your wear –

Your story is not nonsense and there is no giving up tonight – there is no giving in – unafraid tell you who you are – tell you what you fantasize to come real – what you’ve always wanted to feel – no addictions – just your dedication – to be your own creation.

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What it is...

I see Life like a rose in the ice... beautiful but with cold settings - There are so many incredible things out there - but we always need to fight and perservere against the hardships too... otherwise the cold will win ... and we will wither away.

My imagination has led me to believe in something called 'Sudan Fairytale' -
The fantasy that My country will one day be independant and proud, never selfsish to provide its people with its needs, give freedom and success to all, be forever committed to achieve a prosperous inhabitance to every Sudanese in their own country-

My eyes fail me and I see the truth which I call - 'Khartoum Heartbreak' - This is a theme running through the blog under the 'Khartoum Heartbreak' Poems and whatever else about Sudan conveying broken down love, poor streets and cut off electricity along with a lot of other decays and problems in Khartoum city Life.

But I love my country and so I have no choice but to merge the Pain and the Love as one.

Faith is my heart and I could never do without it hoping in my prayers that I can be someone better always and that God forgives me as I fall in Mistakes through that frozen path of Life...

Sometimes I feel under control with all the too many emotions that run to colour my days and nights - Books, movies, music, dreams, friends, family, strangers, travel, - reality - the 10 O' Clock news -Most of the time I'm very Lost in trying to understand - whatever happens becomes tangled into writing this confusing memoir -

It's a really odd combination of air - not sure whether it is refreshing or suffocating - stabilising or maddening - But I breathe and
so it is
'Memoirs of a Sudanese breath' as I am 'Lost but under control' -