Inner Conflict

Being an intellectual appeals to me, but as the quote goes, “happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know” which is understandable. The more intelligent you are and the more knowledgeable you are, the more you understand that the world is not a just world, and that a lot of people are manipulators, and that love and magic are imagined by humans to make life a little more worthwhile, that everything is solely theoretical and scientific, etc.

I am conflicted. As always.

In my head, I’m still a Disney princess, believing in a happily ever after, with prince charming on a white horse and a castle, with everlasting kindness, with fairytale like kind people and magic all around me and my kingdom. And then I try being an intellectual, reading something so contemplative and depressing. Really? I laugh at myself. The irony of it is too much.

Yeah, it’s not an easy task balancing these two attitudes and practices. Both appeal to me very much; the intellectual side for maintaining great conversations with people and learning from these enriching dialogues. And the fairytale side for the magic of innocence and blind kindness. I like blind kindness, I think it’s the most beautiful thing on earth. My point? I don’t even know what I’m trying to get at, right now. All I know is that I’m conflicted but I lead parallel lives, and that’s why, sometimes, I come off as an enigma to other people. “What the hell do you want, Kay?” Kay doesn’t know. Kay wants everything at the same time, Kay loves everything. Kay is probably out of her little mind and it’s alright. It really is, as long as Kay keeps all of it in a steady kind of state.



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five minutes to paint my face
ten more to pick out an outfit
fifteen minute morning coffee
fifty minute car ride
seven and a half hours of work
sixty minute lunch break
an hour of deep reflection while eating my sandwich
thirty minute break
thirty minute coffee craving
thirty minute confusion

fifty minute car ride
fifteen minute coffee break

and a whole night of deep reflection
an entire night of incertitude
a night of biting my tongue

something whispers, “build up your courage”
but it sounds like Satan
correct me if I’m wrong, please

the silence speaks for itself
twice a failure
they say third time’s the charm

twelve hours of deep sleep
twelve hours of mourning

something died
something was buried alive

time, time, time is not on my side
a year of withdrawal symptoms

a year of testing the waters
a year of trial and error

five minutes stuck in traffic
five minutes here, five minutes there

I’m going to be late



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Temporary pleasures lead to permanent consequences. Life conspired against me in order to teach me how to control my temptations. I haven’t given up completely of course but there is now some kind of balance. I’ll screw up again (as we all will, realistically speaking) but I mean, chances of messing up are slimmer now.

In other words, I like to keep the keys to my happiness in my own pocket.
The utilitarians defined happiness as pleasure and the absence of pain, but I guess being eudaemonic makes us winners. You won’t get immediate satisfaction, rather you’ll be on a journey, doing good deeds, the journey itself is happiness. I mean it’s not a destination, nor should happiness be a goal. Because good actions WILL produce happiness, moral decisions WILL make you happier. In fact it will make you more confident and certainly more respected, especially when you realise what you’ve saved yourself from.

I mean let’s face it, who wouldn’t want to be incorruptible, who wouldn’t want to be seen as noble, as much as it pains me to say no to certain things, I have no choice if I want to keep dodging bullets.



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Life happens around me – all around me – seemingly happening to everyone, to everybody but me, standing on the margins of the world’s more pleasant side.

Life happens all around me; it just hasn’t found me yet, I suppose it’s a certain self-enclosure.

He tells me daily that I’ve got myself to blame.

Life just happens all around me. I, who loved life so dearly, who could be immersed daily in life’s never ending festivities and sometimes questionable temptations. I, who simply loved to live… And I’m just wallowing in self-pity now.

Another fine drifter told me to live in the face of life’s adversities. To live despite all odds. To enjoy myself despite how heavy these obligations and responsibilities are…

And I just looked at her, with the most dumb and hopeless look on my face: “How could I allow myself to be so selfish?”

And eventually, you end up feeling robbed of something irreplaceable, something wonderful.

Life happens all around me, and what I’m left with is this nothingness that weighs a ton…

For everything in life is holy


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We all know that feeling when we tell ourselves it’s going to be okay over and over again – something like a mantra.
When we know damn well that we’re going to ache and ache some more, something like living in denial. Justification on top of justification: let me communicate, let me say what I have to say. Hear me out.

Headstrong and over-passionate – I told you; I’m a royal mess and I welcome you to my amusement park. You’re free to run around here, you’re free to talk, you’re free to steal away my precious time. I love strangers – that’s my thing. In fact, I love the mystery, the excitement that they and their stories offer me.

So, sit beside me, I won’t walk away from you. Talk to me, I’ll listen to you. Empty your heart of your miseries and I’ll clean up after you.

I somehow know what it’s like to feel what you feel. I understand the difficulties in following your heart. I know how hard it is to do things out of sheer respect for yourself. You don’t want to come off as selfish. You don’t want to come off as being cruel; instead, you rather take the shit and live with it. Sometimes, sometimes though, it becomes too heavy on your heart and you end up carrying the weight of the world on your frail shoulders.

Let me tell you a secret – you don’t have to.

You can spill every pain, and I won’t stop you. You can scream yourself stupid; I’ll join you. You can cry to me; I’ll console you. You can shout at me, and I’ll stick around…

I was once asked, “Why the hell do you this to yourself, dealing with other people’s problems?” – Because I know what it’s like to feel alone and misunderstood. I know what it’s like to have family and friends that don’t genuinely care about you. I know what it’s like to deal with loss.

You see, I was once consoled by the kindness of one stranger. I just want to propagate this kind of current of good energy and make it that much stronger.

In other words, I’m here – in mind and in spirit. I am the distraction that you take. I am the tears that you cry. I am the sleep used to escape. You can find me in the depth of silence. I am the many faces that you see in your mundane. I am the melody that you hum. I am your heart’s beating drum. I am the poetry that you fill your soul with.

You don’t have to travel far to find me; I’m everywhere.

Love One Another


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“You will not enter Paradise until you believe, and you will not believe until you love one another… ”
[Sahîh Muslim]

Love has no prejudice. Love does not judge the differences man is born with. Love is without shadow of any kind, for if it was, then love would not be love. Love cannot oppose itself on any level and dimension.

“Love one another.” I take these words literally. This is the only self I have ever known -to love humanity. To love and be sensitive to all individuals. So much pain exists in the hearts of so very many, in so many various ways yet there is no such thing as comparing who has endured more when it comes to sorrow and tears. The heart is an ocean and ALL waves are in an ocean are made of water. A small wave can conceal an abyss below that is naked to the human eye and a large wave may crash on the shallow waters near the shore. The heart is not “judged” in any way. A tear is a tear under any circumstance. A heart identical to my own beats beneath another’s chest. This is my fellow human, neighbour; my sister and brother no lesser or greater than I. How can one not be the essence of Love and empathy is my personal wonder…




caught sixteen year old me
glaring at my twenty-two year old self 

why so upset? 
things have changed.
you grew up so fast!
where’s the excitement?
where’s your refreshing enthusiasm 
about everything and nothing?

why must it be so fake now?
and conversations

lies on top of lies
fighting to stay authentic 

when the only time I felt authentic 
was a mirage
and was over in a blink of an eye 

will I always be so haunted?
will I always remain so daunted
by this riddle?

and maybe that’s why I hold on so tightly
and maybe that’s why I pray so desperately 

and maybe just maybe I’m afraid to fall

so I hold on 
because His love saves me 

and I’ll write forever 
to keep those dead alive 

and maybe I’m not mentally well anymore
people and their games 
will take your sanity away 

so you learn to cope
so I mourn deaths 
and I cope

Prayer and Hydration


Daily prayer and time alone to commune with God is essentially water to the mind, body and soul. You become hydrated in areas of your being that were dehydrated to your surprise and were thus creating an unbalance between the three. Through prayer and sincere communion with God; the alignment of mind, body and soul is automatic. Your essence through this then becomes stronger, you begin to change and grow. You may ask yourself, why through prayer and not simply through power of intent can this occur? My answer, through personal experience, is that BOTH are a requirement. There isn’t one without the other; prayer works through your soul, power of positive intent works via your mind. A happy healthy mind and soul (in unison) thus create a healthy body. One doesn’t neglect to drink water, the body knows when it’s feeling dehydrated as we thirst progressively. The soul thirsts too, what you cannot witness and be aware of, resides beneath your skin. Never neglect your soul, consciously be alert when the soul requires ‘hydration’.

Half an explanation


When I tell them my story, they often ask me why. It is never an easy answer to give because somewhere along the way I had to make a decision, a rational one, a decision that would make me happier in the long run. I had to sacrifice self-gratification for something someone close to me once told me about – eudaemonia. The word eudaemonic can qualify either a goal or a lifestyle and it simply means that the object of the individual’s ambition is conductive to happiness.

As dusk was falling rapidly, I looked Hedonism right in the eye – heart racing and all – heart breaking and all – I tore myself out of its embrace. I had to let it all go for it would have ended in my life’s cessation.

I flew on Vice’s wings for a long time until I could no longer look at myself in the mirror. Something about the colour of my skin, something about the emergence of dark circles under my eyes, something about my unquenchable thirst for more pleasure, something about something my mother warned me about, something about virtue.

I once held the strong belief that I was rewriting virtue through my agency when I was instead digging up my grave deeper and deeper everyday.
I shall never forget his words, “Melancholy drifts around you, its scent clings to you, like it is announcing some kind of doom.”


I wonder when the hurling of emotion will cease, unless it is endless.
If eternal, I might just set free, soul from body.
The burden is unbearable, so much to share, to give, yet no recipient.
Beauty in the form of words to utter, yet no addressee.
Frustration, exasperation, quickly follow desertion by a fine soul I once tried keeping in a sly bowl of charm and wit.

Thus are the consequences of such poor choices—
thus are the consequences of misunderstanding—
certain cues, clues left so effortlessly, not clumsily
and I, a hen in a henhouse, preoccupied with the trivial as a result lost the
most significant aspect of my petty existence.
In fact, it just slithered away after performing its salacious deed
like the serpent in the Garden of Eden.

I have sight but no insight, I have eyes, yet I am blind
for I was offered the fruit of knowledge, and left it behind.
For I was offered what was supposed to be rightfully mine,
and yet I just stood there,
in fear, of finally getting what I have always wanted.