├ January 28, before dawn
I felt tense and slept badly at love misunderstood and friendship unsustainable. To desire meant to desire what I could never have, never ever.
Should I defy the stars?
No, they just showed the incongruities of life. I could hardly bear the scene of mess everywhere and theories without roundup.
Would conjure up theories if I could.
Meditate. No mind.
I cared about the fragment of a poem unfinished sunk in the sea of consciousness.
Mess was an unorganized spontaneity. Let it be.
It was a sin to be lying lazy in the home of the homeless. I would rather plan my death than commit suicide slowly. My ego would die before my death. I thought to spend my last days in the hot resort. People would come some day to dance my death in the fire funeral. They would be dressed in maroon, a mixture of red and black. There would be reading poems and chanting. There would be a ritual to anchor my soul.
Incongruities of life are a part of the Divine Providence. I have a mystic sense of it.
May stars have mercy upon us, the vulnerable beings of life.
We are one and separation is an illusion.
I am that which cannot be burnt. I am the transcendent immanent fire.
Facebook Comments:
Yolanda: Tameer, did you write this yourself?
January 28 at 7:13am
Yolanda: This is powerful writing, I am glad you shared it.
January 28 at 7:15am
Tameer: Yes, just wrote it. I began before dawn. It's now 7:15 Hong Kong in the morning.
January 28 at 7:16am
Tameer: Thank you Yolanda :)
January 28 at 7:16am
Yolanda: Tameer, I hope you never stop writing. You are very very good at it.
January 28 at 7:19am
Tameer: Haha, thank you for your encouragement ^^
January 28 at 7:20am
◎┤
I felt tense and slept badly at love misunderstood and friendship unsustainable. To desire meant to desire what I could never have, never ever.
Should I defy the stars?
No, they just showed the incongruities of life. I could hardly bear the scene of mess everywhere and theories without roundup.
Would conjure up theories if I could.
Meditate. No mind.
I cared about the fragment of a poem unfinished sunk in the sea of consciousness.
Mess was an unorganized spontaneity. Let it be.
It was a sin to be lying lazy in the home of the homeless. I would rather plan my death than commit suicide slowly. My ego would die before my death. I thought to spend my last days in the hot resort. People would come some day to dance my death in the fire funeral. They would be dressed in maroon, a mixture of red and black. There would be reading poems and chanting. There would be a ritual to anchor my soul.
Incongruities of life are a part of the Divine Providence. I have a mystic sense of it.
May stars have mercy upon us, the vulnerable beings of life.
We are one and separation is an illusion.
I am that which cannot be burnt. I am the transcendent immanent fire.
Facebook Comments:
Yolanda: Tameer, did you write this yourself?
January 28 at 7:13am
Yolanda: This is powerful writing, I am glad you shared it.
January 28 at 7:15am
Tameer: Yes, just wrote it. I began before dawn. It's now 7:15 Hong Kong in the morning.
January 28 at 7:16am
Tameer: Thank you Yolanda :)
January 28 at 7:16am
Yolanda: Tameer, I hope you never stop writing. You are very very good at it.
January 28 at 7:19am
Tameer: Haha, thank you for your encouragement ^^
January 28 at 7:20am
◎┤
