Tag Archives: anger

Miserys’ Mistress

You are miserys’ mistress. Even if fortune looked your way and gave you the night of your life, you would still sneak back into miserys’ arms.

You claim you desire joy or one of her friends. You claim you yearn for peace, when in reality you allow drama to engulf you.

You are miserys’ bitch. A sly one at that, a submissive slave who may appear to obey when beckoned when in reality it is you who beckons misery.

Misery likes to think it owns you, you let it think it makes all the decisions and has all the power, that misery has a hold on you… It is misery who is your bitch, your plaything.

You throw yourself into a poisonous codependant relationship with each other. So twisted you both are, it’s hard to tell where either of you begin or end.

Misery and you may have an agreed upon open relationship, one that involves daliances with others such as pain, depression or hunger, but you always find your way back into each other’s beds. God forbid you may sleep apart.

Even if you won the lottery or found your one and true soul mate, misery will always follow, not out of choice but because you’ve chained it at the ankle.

God forbid you’re ever torn apart.

The Struggle Within

The pain that followed the punch was unbelievable, it coursed through the child’s body as every part of him screamed for attention. The boy was hunched over gasping for breath. He shook but not in fear nor in anger but in misery. The being that hovered above him was just a shadow, a huge dark unclear silhouette, which just ignored the boy’s existence.

Determination set in the boy’s shoulders as he straightened and looked into the shadow’s unclear face, managing to fuel its anger again. It jerked and took a step back in confusion before it attacked again with a forceful slap across the boy’s face. Stoic, the boy said nothing as he fell to the ground. Silence descended within the abyss they are in, only the heavy angry breaths of the silhouette was audible.

It didn’t take long before the child became determined again, refusing to be ignored. The child stood but instead of a boy, it was a girl. She sniffled and wiped her tears off her black and blue face, her eyes filled with willpower as she stared into the silhouette’s face. It didn’t take long before it kicked the girl, and her body flew far away before it hit the ground. Her body fell lifeless and the shadow grew restless. It walked around mumbling, unable to fathom what was going on as she began to move and gain her strength again. As she stood her body changed and grew into that of a man.

The man stood and limped his way towards the shadow. When he was close enough he lifted his eyes and stared at its face. The silhouette was already prepared, and the moment the man looked at him, it punched him. The sound of a breaking rib echoed through the abyss, and so did the sound of a screaming man. Groaning, the man’s body began shifting into a more slender form.

A woman instead was holding her side, groaning in pain as she began to roll over to get on her feet. Barely able to stand up straight, the woman looked straight ahead at the shadow. She was prepared for what was to come. It didn’t take long before the silhouette slapped her and punched her till she fell to the ground. Motionless, the woman’s body curled and shifted into a shadow.

The silhouette in anger and confusion screamed, as it slowly dropped to its knees on the ground next to the unmoving shadow. It didn’t want to see them nor acknowledge them. It didn’t want to do this over and over again. They wouldn’t leave it alone in ignorance, because they wanted to be seen and accepted and that is the constant inner struggle that we have within our own abyss.

Simple Desires Chapter 4

Cecilia woke up to the rhythmic noise…what the hell?
She sat up from her bed slowly spied at her clock through sleepy eyes, it was 3:00 am.
Where was that noise coming from?
It took her a while to register that it was coming from chris’ side, what in god’s name was he doing in this hour? Didn’t he have his closing argument tomorrow on that big case he was working on?
She slowly stood up and tilted her head near the wall above her bed and stuck her ear to the wall to make sure it was from Chris ‘side.
Ok… Ok don’t judge she was just curious because this was weird, and Chris was such private person.
Then she heard what made her face drain of color
A very soft moan followed by a thump.
She pushed off the wall her face coloring, was Chris…, no he never had a girlfriend or even a girl over at his apartment , well except for her .
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly didn’t feel like sleeping, she miserably grabbed her pillow and the book she was reading from the night stand and headed out for the living room sofa. she didn’t know why she felt restless and honestly a little bit hurt that Chris would trust someone to be with him intimately when she barley felt allowed to touch him freely ,sure they hugged and touched but it was always a calculated move from Chris or her and never spontaneous.
She spread on the sofa trying to figure out why she was so affected by the sounds she heard, Chris was a grown man ,she didn’t have any control over him ,and he was quite handsome to be honest ,his build had changed over the years from tall and gangly to broad and solid and the hours he spent at the gym couldn’t hurt too .
She discovered that chris was an exercise freak, If he wasn’t running he was boxing if he didn’t have time for the gym then he would spend hours on his tread mill at home, she once tried going jogging with him and he freakin lapped her and he did it so graciously with a soft smile on his face , she had expected his green eyes to dance with mirth but he didn’t, he kept encouraging her to join him for more runs .
She huffed annoyingly as she adjusted the pillow under her head, so much for Mr. Celibate, it looks like he didn’t have any problems in THAT area.
“I don’t do relationships Ceels” she remembered her last argument with him when she cornered him about relationships a couple of days ago, well apparently a relationship is being done as we speak!
Stupid Cecelia, you though he was some kind of wounded soul that needed healing, that he had something against touching and intimacy because of a childhood trauma!
She opened her book and tried to bury her feelings and thoughts until she drifted off to sleep but unfortunately she managed with little success.

Shit…shit I’m late!
Cecelia rushed to the elevator stuffing a pastry in her mouth pressing the call button several times, she doesn’t know why abusing the call button will somehow achieve anything but it’s a nervous tick and she was already having a lousy morning that had followed a sleepless night filled with dreams about obscene moans and bed thumping and her yelling at whomever was making the noise to shut up cause some people were single and liked their quiet and moan free life thank you very much!
“Morning Ceels” Chris greeted standing next to her
What the shit was he doing here? He always heads out to work an hour before her
Ceels are you ok? “Chris asked giving her a concerned look.
Oh that’s awesome Cecelia stand there making reaction to your inner monologue like a damn idiot!
“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well last night”
“Yeah me too, I’m so exhausted “Chris responded rubbing his eyes
Is he fucking kidding me!
“I bet you were “I mumbled
“Excuse me? “ Chris looked confused
“Nothing “I said in a clipped tone
“Ceels are you. I don’t know angry with me? “Chris asked unsure
“Yes …no …ahh “I ran my hands through my long chocolate brown hair in frustration
“I mean you’re an adult, you can do what you want and if you want to spend the night with some leggy model from your posh firm its totally fine, just keep it down next time cause if you haven’t noticed we share a bedroom wall ,so what happened yesterday was not cool “I rushed in one breath
“I didn’t have anyone over yesterday? “Chris answered puzzled
“Chris I heard banging and moaning yesterday at three in the morning, you weren’t hanging pictures that’s for sure “I said sarcastically.
Does he think I’m that stupid? Come on, is he really going to deny it?
I looked up at him and was shocked to see his face drain from color , looking at him I noticed that he did look tired ,and the dark circles around is eyes was a clear indication.
He fell silent maybe embarrassed to be caught after lying.
The elevator dinged and we entered silently, a thick and somewhat awkward silence falling on us.
As we stood by each other, I stole a look at him and saw him adjust his work bag on his shoulders?
Then I noticed it
Under the cuffs of his light blue dress shirt there were deep red bruises slightly turning to purple at the ends.
Chris what’s wrong with your hand? The question slipped before I could help it.
He immediately pulled his cuff and slid his hand in his pocket, a stone wall descending on his handsome tired face
“Chris were you tied?” I asked shocked while invading his space.
“Ceels drop it “he answered coldly.
“Are you into these things?” I continued to question ignoring his warning.
“The BDSM stuff “I asked my face turning beat red
I put my hand on his arm trying to angle him to look at his other wrest.
“Ceels would you stop touching me, I don’t like it “Chris snapped
“I didn’t see you having a problem with that yesterday? “I snapped back after he shoved his hand behind his back.
He looked angry now.
“You know what Ceels it’s none of your business! if I had someone or not, stop meddling and fixing and prying ,if I want to tell you something I will, if not then stay the hell out of it! “ and then the treacherous elevator door opened and he rushed out leaving me quiet shocked from his outburst .
Chris had never shouted at me this way
I felt my throat close as I headed out ,making sure I slowed down so I could miss him , I don’t get it, something is missing ,did he have someone over or not ? And if he didn’t who gave him those marks?
Then a body shivering thought crossed my mind.
Did he do it to himself?
I’ve studied the psychology behind self-harm and how it can sometimes release stress but is that what it was? But from what I’ve read it mostly involves cutting, the person doing it waiting for release in the form of blood easing out of him .but that wasn’t the case, Chris had bruises.

what the hell was going on?

I’ll Still Love You

I pity you, because you limit yourself with only your ideals. I pity you, because you’re hardly understood. I pity you, because you choose to blame everything else except yourself. I pity you because you only blame yourself. I pity you for loving me so much that you’ve stopped living your life fully. I pity you, because nothing is ever enough.

I don’t hate you, even though you make me hate myself. I don’t hate you, even though you’ve managed to always make me feel guilty. I don’t hate you, even though I spent my time scared of being like you. I don’t hate you, even though I want to for not being strong enough. I don’t hate you, even though I’m never enough.

I’ve come to love you out of duty rather than out of passion. I’ve come to hate myself for feeling that way. My guilt eats me, as my brain tries to justify it. I only want you to be happy, but you seem to want things that I can’t give you. Every time I pursue my own happiness, you guilt me with every step. You won’t let me fly and fall, you want to clip my wings. You can’t do that though, so instead you guilt me with every step I take. I know you want me to be happy, but on your terms not mine. I wish if you would clip my wings instead, because I know I can fight it, but I can’t fight guilt and disappointed looks.

I’ll still love you no matter what, you’ve done so much for me. I wish if I could make you happy, I wish I had never told you the truth. I wish I can go back to pretending to be someone that I’m not. I know it might have made you happy, but truth is it wouldn’t have made a difference.

I’ll still love you no matter what, because it’s my duty. I know you love me and no one will ever love me like you do, but your love hurts me so much, I sometimes can’t breathe and yet your love is what helped me survive so far. Your love is what made me who I am. Your love and support is what always made me feel safe.

So I’m sorry for not being enough. I’m sorry for not making you happy. I’m sorry for not expressing my love to you. I’m sorry for not being there the way you want me to be. I’m sorry for wanting to live my life by my own ideals. I’m sorry I could not make you proud. I’m sorry you think I’m lost. I’m sorry for being me, and most importantly I’m sorry for not being able to care anymore.

I want to understand you, to help you. I blame myself for not being able to reach out properly. Believe me, I’ve tried but with every attempt, I face a wall so thick and confusing. You provoke me so easily and guilt me just as quick. I have tried different ways to communicate and with each try I’ve come to fail. Days turned to months and months turned to years and the result was the same. So I’m sorry but I no longer care, I’m tired of trying and always failing. I’m tired of talking to a wall. I’m tired of never being enough.

With your love you’ve managed to suffocate me and push me away. With your love you have turned my passion to duty. With your love you have managed to make me care less about you.

Week 14 – The Red Monster

I have turned this heart cold
To an inch from its death.
Plucked away all feelings,
Chased them away
Till they disappeared without a trace.

Then I bolted that door shut,
Put a sign “No light can enter”
Happiness can never live here.
This is my palace.
My kingdom.

And so it began,
The masquerade
Lit fire in the eyes to fool them.
Faked laughs to throw off suspicion.
“Hear that sound?
See that sparkle?
This heart is alive and beating ”

I have claimed this land.
It is my palace,
My kingdom.
I have conquered all
And slain those in my way.
I have spread my demons
To vanquish doubts.

Engulfed in this darkness,
I am home.


Droplets of water dropped down from the tree leaves as she limped her way through the jungle, she walked down the narrow path that only her trained eyes could see the subtle signs left by tribesmen to help guide the travelers back to their homes. Dense thick trees surrounded Kiera, branches brushing against her, leaving scratch marks all over her body with each step. Her body was raw with exhaustion and her stomach wound oozed more blood with each stride. If it weren’t for the earlier rain, the trail of blood would have led the enemies right to her. Her sword sheathed but her hand never left the handle, her eyes constantly searching and scanning the area for any threat, she was prepared to fight any animal or human.

Birds chirped happily, oblivious to the state she was in. They suddenly flew away, disturbed by the roar of a tiger nearby and the scream of its prey. The sounds of her surroundings didn’t faze her, even when the muddy path seemed endless. Kiera kept walking, but dizzy with exhaustion and blood loss she failed to hear the swoosh of the arrow as it flew and pierced her right shoulder.

Kiera fell to the ground with the impact, but quickly moved to act. She screamed in agony as she broke the arrow then pulled it out of her flesh, and swiftly moved to stand, but it was too late. She was already facing the archer; he had jumped down the tree he hid in, and stood in front of her with a knotted arrow that’s ready to fly. Kiera froze, the only sounds were of her heavy breathing as her assailant stood calmly and quietly in front of her. His eyes were the only thing she could see and they were unreadable, but she knew enough that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. She knew with her stomach wound and her newly acquired one, she won’t be able to fight off the archer. Her only option was to get him close enough to just touch him with her ring, one prick and the poison would kill him instantly. All she had to do was avoid his flying arrows and get close enough. As she gritted her teeth to bear the pain and prepared to move, the archer’s eyes fell on the tiger shaped amulet hanging on her right forearm, his eyes widened in recognition, yet he didn’t drop his bow and arrow.

         “Did you succeed?” he gruffly asked.

  She stayed silent, trying to buy time; if he was a betrayer of their cause, her answer could lead to her death.

“Who are you? And which tribe do you belong to?” she asked instead.

“I think it would be wise if you answered my simple question, warrior.” He said, “I wish you no harm, but you shall not pass untill I get my answer.”

He gestured with his eyes to Kiera’s wounded shoulder and said, “I don’t miss, this was merely a warning shot”

Angry at his ways, “I will answer nothing; unless I know who you are and what tribe you belong too.”

The archer quirked an eyebrow in surprise, she was in no place or state to negotiate yet here she was: stoic in the face of death. He was impressed and he inclined his head in respect, which was not what she expected.

“I’m Kahlil son of Ghashis of the Tiger Tribe.” He finally answered.

She recognized both names, and he could sense it, and he carefully slid down his bow and arrow.

“Did you succeed, warrior?” he asked again.

Kiera stared at him as she forced her body to relax, “No, I didn’t.”

She knew the penalty, if she failed then she must be killed. Her body screamed in agony as she dropped to her knees. He was the son of the tribe’s chief and he can deliver the message to his father and warn their people.

“I know the penalty, and I ask you for only one thing before you execute me.” She begged, “I want you to deliver a message to Chief Ghashis.”

Kahlil’s eyes were cold, but he nodded his consent. He dropped his bow to the ground and unsheathed his sword as he walked towards her, “Relay your message, warrior.”

“The emperor knew of the attacks!” she blurted out in anger and relief, “It was he who sanctioned it, the slaughter of our elders, children and women was sanctioned by him. He wishes to end our existence. “

Kahlil stared at her in shock, “It cannot be, why would he kill his own people? His own blood?!”

Kiera flinched in pain as she moved her left hand to touch her amulet with both her index and middle finger, “I swear it on my life and on everything I hold dear. The emperor told us himself, before he ordered our deaths, it was a trap. There will be no support from him, our only choice is to find allies among our own people and tribes and create our own united army.”

Kiera took a deep shuddering breath and bowed her head in prayer, as she readied her soul and body for the deathly blow. Kahlil stood frozen, angry at the state of his country and what his emperor had become. It didn’t take him long to make a decision, Kahlil sheathed his sword and pulled Kiera to her feet, “Let’s go, you must meet father.”

He bent to pick his bow and arrow; she looked at him in shock, this was not the way of their people.

“What are you doing?” she asked

Ignoring her question, “The tribe is a one day walk from here, but in your state it will take us two days. I shall take you to a safe area for you to rest, I’ll hurry to the tribe to deliver the news and find you a mage to heal your wounds. Till then the healing salve I carry, will lessen your pain and keep infections away.”

“I have failed my mission, you must kill me or shame will follow me!” Kiera exclaimed.

The archer pulled down the cloth covering his face, fierce determination set in, “You’ve not failed us, warrior. It is the emperor who has done so. We are going to war and we need every warrior we can find. There’s no time for this, let’s move.”

Unable to reply, and her body screaming for rest and peace, Kiera finally let exhaustion takeover and let Kahlil lead the way. She was content and baffled with the results; her mission to inform the emperor of the massacres occurring was a failure, since he was the main cause of those attacks, but her personal mission of warning the tribe of his betrayal was a success, her fellow warriors’ lives were not lost for nothing. She sent a simple prayer for their souls, thanking them for their sacrifice and hoping they had found peace.

The Day I Killed Hypocrisy

As a Muslim I have been forced to do things and react to things in a certain way. The worst part is that it’s not because the religion is oppressive but because people are. In any society you learn at an early age that you must fit in or else you’ll be in one way or another considered an outsider.  When you are born, in any society, everything is chosen and readily planned for you, they choose your name, your religion, and your identity, and eventually they’ll shape your thoughts. They set the criteria and you are expected to stay within it.

I decided to wear the veil at the age of twelve; I was expected to cover my hair and body the moment I reached puberty. To many it may sound bizarre, but this was part of our religion. Many would also think it is oppressive, but anything in life is a choice and people, including parents, tend to take that choice away. I was one of the lucky ones; my parents didn’t like the idea of me wearing the veil at such a young age. They even refused when I suggested it, telling me I had to be more religiously responsible to take such a step. I never understood that, but I decided I will start with the basic everyday five prayers, which caught my parents’ attention and by the age of twelve, they agreed to let me wear it. My mom’s eyes watered with pride and my father called me from abroad, simply, to tell me how proud he was and to give me advice on how to handle myself from that point on. I was so convinced and truly believed that it was the right path, who would have known I would take it off eight years later.

I have always been too mature and philosophical for my age, I wanted to grow up so quickly and take as many responsibilities as possible. My parents would travel and leave my brothers for me to supervise and care for, and that built, I guess, my maternal instincts. My brothers don’t just look at me as a sister but also as a mother, which I take great pride in. I was an introvert, preferred to stay indoors and only socialized with my family members. I had only two friends and that was perfectly fine by me. I would huddle in my room and read book after book, losing myself to the worlds they showed me. I lived my life through these books. I was a princess, an elf, a man, a joker, a knight, a wolf, a vampire, or anything I wished to be. I could go anywhere I want to, it was like the door to limitless and different worlds. Even though most of my readings were of novels, but they taught me so much and one of them was the reason I started on this journey.

The way people spoke of God was in a very fearful way, they speak of Him as if He were the boogeyman. The way I portrayed God was that He knew nothing but destruction, if I sinned his wrath will find me and I will be cursed for life. I will be thrown in the deep pits of hell and burn over and over again. So I became so scared of life and living, I mean why should I when everything has a possibility to anger God or could be considered a sin. Strangely, this train of thought led me to start doubting God’s existence, which when I voiced, of course, was told that these thoughts were whispers of the devil. It was the devil trying to pull me to the wrongful path and doubt. This made my life a bit more complicated, I stopped voicing my questions because the replies were always the same, I would have been happier if people and my family told me that they didn’t know the answers. It would have made much more sense then, however, this was not the reason I have stopped believing in God.

One day I went to a bookstore with two of my cousins, and as we were paying at the cashier a book caught my attention. It was a tiny one and could be easily overlooked, but for some reason the title interested me. The book was called “What on Earth Am I Here For?” by Rick Warren and it was a religious Christian book. As I decided to buy that tiny booklet, one of my cousins told me that I shouldn’t read such a book that it will make me doubt my beliefs. I didn’t care though, and bought the book anyway. I understand why people are so scared of the truth, scared of doubting their beliefs and thoughts. The booklet was, at the time, my book of hope and answers. Even though I got what I desired, it invoked so many more new questions. I felt conflicted and mostly scared. My thoughts were evil and I truly believed that I was blasphemous and would burn in hell. It didn’t get any better, the more I read the more confused and scared I became.

I rarely voiced my thoughts, there was no point really. I was a hypocrite; I would speak of religion and pretend to be a true Muslim, when in reality my thoughts were full of doubts. I don’t know if I was aware at that point, I think I was in denial. I couldn’t face my contemplations, and with every passing day my mind would scream with confusion and fear. I felt lost and cursed with every question or contemplation that crossed my mind. We were told that our brains were one of God’s miracles, but I felt like it was a curse. I wanted to stop thinking, to stop observing and analyzing every single detail around me. With each passing day I wore the veil and identified as Muslim, the more I hated myself. I felt fake and dirty as my fear controlled me. I reached a point where I felt like I was suffocating, like this body I lived in was not my own. I reached a point where my body itched and all I wanted was to peel my skin away.

My fear eventually turned partially into anger and hate towards Him, I was filled with rage at how unfair He was. By then I had read of almost every religion possible that both currently existed or once did. I saw the beauty in them, even though some things were bizarre to me, just like the veil is bizarre to you. It didn’t matter because I came to realize it wasn’t God’s fault. My anger towards Islam and eventually other faiths was not any religion’s fault. It is the realization that people have a tendency to twist things to suit their needs and wants. I have come to realize that God is not a child, nor is He a man. It didn’t make sense that I’m capable of mercy, when God cannot. It didn’t make sense that parents have supported and loved their own children despite their sins, and God cannot. I had come to realize that God is not pathetic like us humans, who have managed to destroy everything around us including each other; God is so much more than we will ever fathom.

Yet I took off the veil after eight years of hypocrisy. For over four years I have not cried once, which I, later, realized was due to depression, but I have broken down twice in front of my parents by the end of the year. At the time I didn’t truly grasp why I was such a mess, till I made my choice and finally took the first step. I went and spoke to my father and mother and told them what I wanted to do and surprisingly they were very supportive. I pushed my luck in a couple of months and I went and told them that I no longer believed in their religion and announced I was atheist. That, though, did not go so well. My mother chose to blame herself, she tried to speak to me and lecture me. I wouldn’t have it; I couldn’t listen to anything at that point. My father did not say much, he understood and gave me my space, but throughout the year he pushed me to choose a religion. He really didn’t care which. My parents feared for my life, which is a bit extreme and understandable, and they were a bit disappointed in me but they never stopped supporting me nor did they stop loving me.

As I was writing today I realized that I have never stopped reading and searching for God. I no longer wish to have a title for who I am, because it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter if I chose to be Muslim, Hindus, Sikh, Christian, Jew..etc. What matters is that I find Him, and this is the path I have come to choose. The path to find my God.

So I killed my hypocrite self, and I have managed to break a huge part of my fears and walls. I dwelt beyond my comfort zone in many ways to better myself, and to finally live. Most importantly I no longer have to pretend to be someone else either, well most of the time. There are some necessary masks that one must wear for certain people. I respect every religion out there, including Islam. It is not my intention to offend; I simply wished to share my chain of thoughts throughout the years that led me to the path I am on now. It is people who oppress; it is neither religion nor God who do so, because by the end of the day everything is a choice.