Thursday, January 14, 2016

push up ...its january

whats wrong with me/? oh whats wrong me
all the excuses , all the drama, all the pain inside me
and for what?
nothing
here I am in  beautiful balcony
a locked up princess or a free woman of the future
my mind is clogged
with sleepiness
with laziness
with fer
what makes me different from all those famous people
whats wrong
why cant i push myself to do anything
why cant i believe to be better
why cant i notice whats happening and wake up to my truth
why cant i do this
if life was a day
what would be the most important thing?
are you just waiting or something
do you think one day your life will fix itself to whtever you desire
do you think one day it will all be different
what if you got the good news
now that is a real dream coming true
that free gift from Allah
are you feeling better?
i hope so
but dont forget the pain of a night broken
or 2 steps back
or a month of waiting with failure at the end
the only difference between a bad day and a good day is yor attitude
this is a good motto
for here i am on a day off with electricity and good food a good man my man and a new tea tray with heart shaped biscuits and a purple laptop with a pink quran and also 8 new plants in navy coloured vases fresh  and divine with azera coffee , probably the only ones on this earth and a clean home, with oven cooked sausages and a health and healthy family and internet that works and money to have to give and womens magazines to have and to give and a new fountain in the process and even icecream and eyes to see across and ears to hear the syrian music downstairs and fan to break the heat and move the wind to calm me and a yoga mat and and and
yet i feel sad
the truth is this is mddening and saddening and devestating
and on the first month of the year should just stop
i firstly am uncomparable
yes im a mess and am lost
and am weak and am tired
but am uncomparable
i am tarnished but i am not broken
i am dirty but i am not uncleanable
i am noisy but i am not unabel to queten it all

sanoya albanoya was cute to hug
i loved hugging her
when i have children i will love hugging them
and it is all a treasure like today

she had long hair and white skin and a crooked beautiful smile and looked like tuba that beautiful turkish actor and was super thin but had no life to live
i have life to live and i want to live it
with all its pleausures and pains but wit a good attitude
and i have memories to make
and hapiness to give and new earnings to take and strengths to feel
i am the same age as youth
i am the same age as love
i am the same age as trust
i am the same age as confidence and purity
and i will not let myself down


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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' -