Words of a ....

just yet another silent night...
my soul feels empty, unsatisfied
and yet I don't crave to cry...
for I have accepted the path that am to try
For I have drank from this grail of pain..
for I have understood how I am to be...
For I have realized the right place for me...

I am a spirit... for I am a demon...
and life... for me only exists in the shadows...

so let me be... In the walls they have built for me
so let me feel... the fire that is meant for me
So let me burn... let me enjoy the pain...

for this is the pleasure I so crave to obtain...



Fahd A. Paracha
just another soul...

Man of Stone...

I find myself becoming a man of stone... Drained of emotions... a silent being lost for words… and tonight I Walk Alone…

What remains of me is a shadow… what I am now is nothing but just another figure of skin, meat, blood and bones… I have a destiny of that I am sure… of achieving it, I am not so sure…

For where I am today… I find everything as being an Illusion. Fake … my name my identity, my memories… are nothing but faded writings in the sand… and when the wind will blow all will be lost... and my presence in the world would not be known anymore….

Today I ask for forgiveness… from my father, forgiveness from my model… forgiveness from my sister, forgiveness from my friends… for I could not be what you had always wished for me to be…

But all is not lost… for there still a small flame burning deep in my hollow soul… which keeps me going… fighting… struggling… afraid… scared for what would happen I it to blows out…

Life (final edit)

It’s funny, how life is… your happy, your down… you thing that the world has ended every time you lose something or someone special…

We get depressed… and we look for sympathy someone to tell our tales to, someone to listen to us… and yet we feel alone, looking, searching for that one thing that makes us complete…

Some do find it… some find in religion, others following their passion while a few in the arms of the loved ones… but why... Why is it that we search, why it we look for…

Am sitting in front of my PC, typing as it comes to mind, "Blindfold" Morcheeba, playing on my broken headphones, I feel strange… complex… tired bored… with a huge question mark on my face… writing random stuff… hoping it makes sense… hoping it tells some tale…

Ha.. A tale, ya that’s what life made of isn’t it tales of friends lost, friends found, experiences… faces…

Have you ever while walking down a busy street looked at the faces of people around you… have you noticed those certain faces… blank as the black hole, consumed by harsh realities that they face in their own individual lives…

Have you tried reading their faces…

Maybe you have tried but then they just fade away into the waves of people in that sea of life… just imagine yourself, imagine it with me,

Imagine that your standing at a footpath on a busy street… close your eyes… hear the sound… can you can u feel the shoulders brushing by your sides… can you sense the traffic, can you hear that guy say move along dude… your blocking the way… way… way to what… all I see are zombies… endlessly without any end…

The music has stopped playing, let me just add some tracks… ahh i'd just let the player scan my disk, let the computer decide on the play list… for isn’t that what we do at times… let other’s decide what’s right for us and what’s not… what we should do or what should we not… who is good for us and who is not…

If your hoping all this writing might make sense some where… it might not.. Then again its what we drive out of all these little things…

Ok so I had a status on facebook titled

“Life's so boring! Need an adventure…”

and a good friend and an amazing artist Susana Weingarten (http://www.susanaweingarten.com) posted something really beautiful on my wall… something I can end this blog on… as I was wondering what this would end on…
She writes

“…Life is boring? oh no....if you would see things in other dimensions not visible to the eye.....but visible to the heart and other occult eyes...try...life is not boring! it is hard, and tastier in every moment....no... Need to have adventures as you see in films ....just check out your dreams...see the moon, hug it, kiss the trees, look at each person in the eye..That is so adventurous!”

So true… so I end this with these words from Susana mentioned above ..
So go ahead… experience life.. ;) the way you have never done before… lets see what we discover… :)

Tale of a lost virgin

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Note by the writer:
Though this is a piece of fiction, a creation of my own mind, but its something very close to what is occurring in the society we live in… by only objective in writing this is to make you think, the conclusion of the tale is up to you...

Regards
Fahd A. Paracha

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Tale of a lost virgin


He looked at his cell phone, It was 5 am, time for another cigarette he thought,
Picking up his lighter he lit his favorite disease, he could not help but recall the tale, the tale she had told him…
He hated his guts he hating himself for being a man..

“15”

He recalled… 15, he thought… a innocent number, but there was nothing innocent about the tale attached to it

He wondered how she had given her heart to a man, who was nothing more than a stone.. how he had lifed her off her feets, how he had made her dream… how they all had made her dream… how they promised her they would take her away from all this and how at the end they all did the same…

“What was her sin” he wondered
“TRUST?”
“HOPE?”

And what did she get in return. ..

“REGRATE!”

They say

“Everything that happens, Happens for a reason… “

but what was the reason behind all this…
he remembered the scars she had shown him, scares from her atrocious past… what was ever gained by all this…
he remembered her saying,
he wondered,

“was it her sin, that she was beautiful… was it a sin that she was well gifted…?”

He felt like such a pig remembering how he tried to imagine how she must of looked under all those cloths… ya he was one of him… he was the same.. no matter what sympathy he may show… no matter what empathy he may of displayed… HE WAS THE SAME …
He remembered how whom ever came to know of her tale did the same, how they forced her, how they abused her, how they treated her like a second hand peace of play…
He recalled her tears the tears of her failure to keep the most precious gift she had… and how lost she had become recalling her mistake…
He recalled her tears as she told him what she had to do.. how she had to take the life of an unborn soul… he recalled her screams and that question...

“what was that child’s fault”

He recalled her telling how the society had also pointed fingers for her sin…

How they abused her…

“ya society!”

he thought,

“snakes dressed up in white, with their sins buried and forgotten deep in their chests… secretly regretting how someone had beaten them to her…”

He looked at his cell phone again, it was 6 am, how time had passed during his thought… he got up from the bed, took out some cash and placed it on the side table… he looked back at the bed, there she lay tired and asleep, aged 20 now, her innocence, still visible on her face,

he placed another cigarette on his lips,.. wondering if he would see her again,
but then again that was most unlikely…

"for tomorrow would be another night, another woman another tale…"

Distorted Self...

As he stood in his balcony, in a story night, looking at the rain dropping from high above the heavens, He wondered what his life was. He thought of all the beliefs that had kept him lofted in the air so high. And what had become of him. How he once had it all, and e had lost it now.

Today he stood all alone, weak not having reached the stage he had dreamed about. Why did he feel the pain, why did he fell so alone, why was he so unsatisfied? Why he craved the longing of someone, lost in the shadows were all his dreams. His fears his failures were as if projected in front of him…

He smoked the last of his cigarette, looking at it, his murderer… Murderer he asked him self or his mistress… He asked himself, where he had gone wrong… at an age of 24, soon to be 25, he looked for what he had; NOTHING… except blank spaces created by his confusions could he see…

He could very well see his troubles, he knew what they were, but still he didn’t know how he could overcome them.

Having always worn a mask of a laughing face, he had forgotten who he really was. His emotions were all gone, and all he was now was a worn out dummy…

Sacrifice was what he believed in, sacrifice was what he did, but for what, was his question, why was his question. And now he stood all blank, all broken watching it all pass him by. And even though he had tried to fight it, tried to change himself, it had kept on hunting him, and now had eaten him alive.

The sound of thunder brought him back to life… LIFE! He thought, shifting back into the thoughts drifting in his mind.

He asked himself,

"24, and what have I to show for it”

he had surly gone stray.

"24"

He asked himself again,

"and what do I have to show for it, defeated, lost, unable to belong, unable to be a part of those I so desired to be…, I know they even still accept me for who I am, but then again they to think high of me, or maybe they just take pity on me, knowing for if they don’t accept me, who would?"

"ALL THINGS COME IN TIME"

;

he heard a deep voice say to him, his conscious trying set him at peace;

He shouted he screamed,

"when will it be the time u speak of. When will it be my moment, when I'd be content and complete? I'm lost I'm broken, I don't even know myself anymore, I've wasted it all I've destroyed it all"

.

I'm a failure, a loser a disaster, even a manic for all that I've been called.

He pictured them all, he could hear them laughing at him, making fun of him, calling him names. Joking about everything there was to him... and then he saw her face, she who had become a victim of his insecurities; he still remembered her last words that she had said to him, before she left, before she moved on to another man, “your too immature” yes immature he was he thought to himself, or just unable to find what he so searched for… scared about commandment as much as he was, he searched for his preferences in all that he was with… unable to find what he desired he had only knew of one think that he could do, and that is run away, not even bothering to look back, he was a monster he thought, and had decided not to look for or get involved…

But would they let him be in peace, would they let him be alone, no they wouldn’t and joked about him demoralizing him even more… and so he joked about his so called 20 minute crushes as an attempt to get them to back off… and before he knew it, it to become a part of him, something he was unable to stop…

Was he a freak, he asked himself, placed in a world where he did not belong?

He wondered how he could of lost himself in the fog, how he had lost his control, and how he could get it back…

The rain had stopped and he could feel droplets on his face, yes he was crying…

He left the thought in mid air, and decided to retire to his bed… but could not help wonder if he’d even be normal, if he’d ever be satisfied…

He tried to scream again, but all heard was silence, even his own voice had betrayed him, making him feel even more alone…

"ALL IN GOOD TIME"

He heard the deep voice coming from the winds again;

telling him again, not to be low, and that everything would be all right,

He looked back in to the hollow space, this time, with aggression on his face… his temper visible, so was his rage; he shouted out loud, yes he had found his voice again,

" I'M TIRED OF ALL THESE WORDS, SO DON'T TELL ME THIS AGAIN! "

And with these words, he disappeared into his room, never to be seen or heard from again...