Did you forget too?


I’ve asked myself these past few weeks

Whether hopes and dreams meant happy or happier

I still haven’t responded to myself

Mostly because my mind couldn’t be more crammed than a jammed copier

I think it’s fortuitous and perhaps it’s eventually grand

To be so busy you can’t ask yourself

Whether you’re cut out to build your own brand

But do we only work and grapple until we forget?

That at some point there was a hope that began a bet

That one day I’ll be this and I’ll be that

Let’s get to work then

Let me catch up on the righteousness track

Because to dream I guess is to be noble

To live beyond your existence

To hope your impact becomes global

But here I sit and type out fatigued little phrases

From a mind that wanted to remember why it began all these phases

Is it worth it now? Are your dreams equating “happy”?

Because I don’t even know

I’m so tired I forgot

I don’t even know

Good night then self, I’ll dream and hope you’ll remember tomorrow



And at some point

You do not know what to say…

When the breaks inside scream for a hope

And all you can do is sway

Left and right my head spins

As I think and re-think all over again

Decisions decisions decisions

Perhaps conviction or some sort of consolation

Perhaps a conversation — someone I trust

But they seem to have walked far off,

And I am not certain should they return

My hands in the sky, during a month of handy sky

Come back! I may plead

Then patience is my only reach

Even such a word is a feat

To wait is to not know

Should I move or stop, when can I hasten, when should I take it slow

Will it come like a miracle? Or will my eyes be shutting down?!

Will I be well deserving

Almost as if my head is topped with a crown

I fear those longer stretches; my human tendency is to forget

Yes, with it pain dissipates — but so might the thirst and beauty

Of the onset

You know, the one that had me breathing really hard

Praying for a long life of steadfast

Then as the ticking gets slower…my back breaks

And I wish for the end quite fast

And then at some point

I do not know what to say

When those little bubbles find solace in a moving picture — fiction I try to explain!

Fiction, my love…

But what can they do? They are wounded

And they see love and generosity,

Hope and grandeur — as if it had never existed before

They tell me they know it exists — love — just not for them,

It will not be a part of our story

So at that point

What the hell do you say?

When you are hopeful and hopeless all at once…

I suppose I simply let my head and fingers sway

It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, I’ll be okay

I think, I know, I don’t, I don’t know

Balcony Morning

Journal, Writing

I woke up at about 4:30am for my morning prayers today. Usually I fall asleep right after, but I couldn’t this morning for some reason. I twisted and turned then decided to release my mind from the shackling presupposition that I needed sleep no matter what my body’s feedback was. My body was awake, and so too would be my mind.

The kitchen was sparkly clean this morning, which is always a lovely and soothing refresher. Subdued sunshine peeked in through the closed curtains which I gently began to move to the side to let in the soft rays of calm. I tried to quietly shuffle through the mugs and kettles in the kitchen so as to not wake anyone up yet — and there was some quiet elation in those small movements. I don’t know what it is exactly about swaying so fluidly in a clean space and creating something beautiful and delicious for myself that pours so much soothed happiness into my soul. I listened to the sound of the frothed milk pour into my mug over my coffee — the crisp sound the lady fingers made as they were placed into my tiny plate and I smiled as I carried my mini breakfast into the now lit balcony. It was cool this morning; the breeze gently greeting my skin as I settled onto the small carpet laid out and crossed my legs.

Ah — warmth embraces my body as it trickles down into my stomach with every gulp. Now, it’s time to think.

The first and most immediate thought was that it was 6am and the rest of the day was at my feet. Subsequently, my stomach shrank into itself a little as I grasped the reality that I didn’t really have anything to do. It was the worst feeling ever. Seriously. I just suddenly felt like I have so much time, and nothing to accomplish.

Now, if you know me on any level, you know I breathe purpose and accomplishments and goal setting. There is always something I’m reviewing, planning on reviewing or embarking upon as a new place of study — I love the feeling of accomplishment, it is my sense of myself at times. And don’t get me wrong, this morning I had a lot of projects in motion and things at hand I could review and probably would have more reading projects to fulfill my ‘I wanna feel intellectual’ needs — but this morning I just didn’t want to. I didn’t want to do anything but I wanted to do something. Does that make sense?

Ah, whatever.

I’m writing about it now as I continue to feel residue of that emptiness, but I am hoping that it is merely a hormonal change, seasonal thing, or just ‘one of those days’ because it really isn’t true enough to hold any merit. I hope I’m not actually losing my purpose…that would suck.

How’ve you been holding up?

Growth and its Beauty

Journal, Writing

It was a beautiful scene watching the soccer coach personally take my brother to the side and teach him how to kick.

I remembered my swimming coaches teaching me how to paddle and kick and breath. I remembered the baby steps to successful sport.

To empowerment.

To believing that I can one day.

My brother, I thought, wasn’t much but I wasn’t much either I guess.

It was beautiful watching that pat on the back from his coach like this potential he sees that I can’t yet.

Growth is gorgeous. It’s the process that’s so so pretty.

It was beautiful seeing Ismail making friends and socializing. He’s growing.

It was beautiful seeing them all holding hands like a team with that inexplicable spirit,

I remember it I used to feel it too

That electricity that only a team player feels and understands — a growing team is beautiful.

My growing brother is beautiful

Ginger, Lavender


Do you remember our little talk?

The one about your peace

And tranquility

the one that put my body to repose,

Next to it a cup of warmth and serenity

Tonight I emptied a few potions,

Ginger, rosemary, thyme and lavender,

Peppermint, basil

Oh, what a wonderful little drink

Into my wonderful little body,

Warmth embracing my little stomach

Until peace is all around it

Tonight’s words are slightly superfluous

Maybe a little less packed with letters

I drank my tea and clicked off my lamp

Good night,

Maybe tomorrow will be a little better.

featured photo my own photography

I Teach At a School, I Learned:

Journal, Writing

Revelation of teaching and تربية:

that those who are younger even if they are in bigger bodies are still immature little kids.

They’re just kids.

They say hurtful things they can’t understand the consequences of their actions

They don’t understand except what they want.

They must learn with الرفق واللين whilst still be disciplined and shown the consequences to their behaviors.

It is not an easy job,

not even close.

Featured photo is my own photography

Time and Work


It seems I do not have time to title posts or take pictures or articulate words. I haven’t even been journaling with a real pen in my notebooks. Merely tapping in a few words on my iPhone’s notepad to make sure thought A or B is not forgotten. I tap in just keywords, I think even the grammar isn’t up to par — but I do it in hope I should return to it sometime, when things are more relaxed, when I’ve got more free time. That notepad of scribbles is filled to a virtual brim with thoughts and important events in need of depth and description.

But I think it’s alright to have whims of thoughts like that. Like short meetings with the wind, you feel a breeze with a significant parable or life event, swear to not forget it and perhaps promise to ruminate with a significant other one day.

So I decided it’s okay for me to post short poems, without structured stanzas, or any lucid devices, just words from stories that are important to me. I think that is most authentic to pens and reflections. To my time and work and all the mumble in between.

I only wish there was a font on WordPress as messy as my real handwriting, so you may immerse yourself in the vibe of scrambled thoughts and brooding reflections, hahaha. I am joking. But my handwriting really is awful. Maybe I’ll write a post about what that means to me one day. Something psychological.

Well then, here’s to a new set of posts coming soon.

Featured photo is my photography. Not sure why I feel it’s symbolic. Maybe because it’s vast. Like the space in my head.

Exploring Bullet Agendas

Journal, Writing

I know it’s March, and posts like this need to happen in January, because it’s like the beginning of the year and things — but I started my ‘yearly agenda’ now, so…

I started keeping a proper full-on annual agenda only last year when I was gifted one, but I’ve kept impromptu agendas in the form of disposable sticky notes first year of college. It was the first time I had more activities and responsibilities than “finish homework, eat and sleep”, and I needed something to keep track of courses, laundry, expenses, extracurriculars, all that jazz. I had my iCalendar, which was (and still is) my academic organizing savior, but with other dorm chores and meeting dates and things, I needed something physical to check off because I needed that feeling of accomplishment as my pen crossed out chores off that daunting list. Of course, now I’m graduated and my responsibilities almost tripled, so I definitely needed a planner.

Okay, lets talk structure of your agenda.

I started off with a store bought agenda which already had allocated places of things for me, the books I had to read and places I had to visit and dates I had to care about. It had pages as month overviews and sections for notes I never used and coloring pages I never got around to and I never ended up using all of it. The weekly chore pages were the most functional for me, but even then I left a lot of empty spaces and would fill it with any babble just for the sake of filling it with something. Anyways, so it worked but the task of planning in it felt tedious in and of itself, if that makes any sense. I don’t know if it’s because I’m the type of person who hates feeling like something has gone to waste, or if it’s like a human compulsion to use up any ‘cool privileges’ one receives that becomes an impetus to fill up all the slots. But away from any psychological analyses why it was laborious for me, it just was.

I wasn’t really on the hunt for better looking agendas, I just returned to my sloppy sticky notes, would jot some check boxes down on my planner at work, stuff like that. It works but it’s not organized and it’s not pretty, so I picked up an empty notebook from home and took my ruler and started creating calendars and weekly dates and sections. I’m not really the artist of any crew, so it wasn’t the prettiest thing (which is important for the mental health of the organizer in my brain) and I kept it for a short while then discovered ‘bullet journals’.

My sister would sketch in them the most deceptively amazing shapes and I hadn’t noticed it was because the bullets were perfectly aligned so that you could structure anything you wanted! I did a bit of research (which means watched a bunch of YouTube) and decided bullet journaling was the agenda planner for me (for now). I didn’t need rulers (which I am too lazy to use any time I do anything), I didn’t need too many colors if I didn’t want them (again, because of the laziness thing) and the creativity was pretty simple (which I guess works because I’m not really a ‘creative’).

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What’s really handy about this journal is the pen holder at the front. You’d be surprised with the pen disappearing dilemma going on, how much you’ll appreciate having one glued to your agenda at all times.

Your Bullet Journal Layout

The first thing I really had to keep in mind was whether I was going to prioritize pretty over function. I went with function. One of the most comfortable elements of bullet journaling is how quick it is to create and how quicker it is to make use of your entire page without it looking too dull. So find your page inspiration (in my case it was YouTube, but Pinterest and Instagram are filled) and start bullet-ing how you’re going to use it. I started with an overview of the year, which I didn’t know I needed at first until I merged both my work and study calendars together and realized it was actually much more practical for me to have instead of two separate and virtual calendars.

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Processed with VSCO with f2 preset

If you haven’t already noticed, my ‘creativity’ is as simple as it gets, and this again, is because I chose to prioritize the functionality of my calendars. Maybe one day I’ll go back and make them prettier.

Pages like, future logs and all the months at a glance all at once were completely useless to me because of how versatile my months are. But I couldn’t completely throw out overviews, so I found that having a month by month overview of probably how I’ll spend this coming month was best. I decided to put a title page vertically and the month laid out horizontally, but you and shift this around obviously, this was just most practical for my visual practicality. Again, any colors used weren’t for a pretty appeal but they actually had a purpose, so the highlighted sections were days off, pen colors differentiated between work and studying, etc.

Your Weekly Schedule

This was the section I probably had the most fun with, but had the most trouble finding what worked as well. There were so many layouts to go through, and I had to pick carefully because these are the pages I’ll use the most and for the longest time. So I needed to find a structure I could fill up and was most practical for me and stick to it. Obviously, Occam’s Razor and I opted for the simplest designs as my most functional.

Now, I removed my actual duties and things because that’s my own business, but this is the structure I found most useful for me.

I decided on these pages, a tiny hint of sketching to make things look a little more appeasing was relaxing and quick to do so it didn’t take away from the purpose of the pages. This for me, for now, was perfect.

Your Key

Now, the best part of all of this for me, was the key. It’s like my secret code with my agenda and it’s what truly makes it mine. I use symbols on my tasks whether this is complete or not or whether this needs adjustment, and it’s the most practical part of organization in a bullet journal because sometimes, you don’t finish all you gotta finish in a day. It is relaxing that I can migrate a task, or I can cancel or switch or whatever and you can choose as many or as little symbols as works for you. This short list worked for me, because I like to stick to a small amount of standards, but that’s just me.

The key for me, helped shift writing and completing tasks from becoming a burden if incomplete to becoming regular day to day things that can be worked around and prioritized to be completed. Believe it or not, this system of positive psychological manipulation where it seems you’re more free to not complete a task has actually motivated me to stick to it almost completely.

And again, the aesthetic isn’t the best, but it works for right now.

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This is crucial personalization because only you will understand and will use these symbols for your scheduling


The best part of keeping a DIY bullet journal or otherwise, is you get to choose how much you’ll use of it and when you’ll get to use any of it. I’m not constrained by certain types of pages I need to fill out or by a standard structure that needs to be followed through the entire year. As my year moves around and my tasks shift, so can my bullet journal. Versatility is key and it’s relaxing for me.

These were my thoughts and this and I hope it was somewhat beneficial. To the next blog post and happy journaling!



all photos in this post are my own photography©