The dark room had no light, save for a candle I had lit, leaving it to help me see my way around the apartment. I didn’t want the blinding lights, not even at night. Call it depression. Call it dramatic. Call it whatever you may. And then you pushed the door open, walking in. My heart leaped, and it ran to embrace you, before I could even shuffle my feet and get to you. I hadn’t seen you in forever. Strange, this encounter, strange, how I thought we would be strangers.

I sat next to you, stunned by your grace, the stars in  your eyes, the smoothness, the chocolate-covered dreams I wanted to taste, and the memories that attacked me. I drowned in a second, and then you called my name. I wondered when was the last time you had said my name out loud. How long it had been, how you had buried us underground, left me a complete mess, a train wreck, how my keys had stayed with you, how the bitterness in my mouth remained for months after. And here you were, offering me a sip of water. What thirst can be quenched with just a sip? What damage can be healed with momentary happiness? What words can be said, when all communication had stopped, had ceased?

You stayed with me. But at the sound of prayer, the calling for people to get up and pray, you were gone. I blinked once, twice, got up from the couch. Nothing. You weren’t there. I must have imagined it. I must be hallucinating. Someone once told me “Hope dies last.”

And so, I spent the night with the Ghost of you. I thought I heard you opening the fridge door, looking for something to drink. I got up, and found nothing. Nobody. And that’s when I knew, I was beginning to lose it. A friend advised me to bake a cake. Bake the cake, step all over it, then eat it all. Get rid of the memories. Get rid of the cake. Get rid of the sweetness. That’s the only way to kill the ghost, the ghost living in my house, in my kitchen, in my room, and worst of all, in my veins. 

But that would be a waste. That would be madness.


Abdulrahman Mohammed sings mostly old Arabic poetry. This one has subtitles in English, too.

Not everyone can appreciate his work. You have to be familiar with the old Arabic poetry, read the poetry itself, compare it to his adaptation, and then enjoy his stunning voice. This is my favorite part, and perhaps it comes as no surprise:

البدر يكمل كل شهرة مرة
وهلال وجهك كل يوم كامل
أنا أرضى فيغضب قاتلي
فتعجبوا يرضى القتيل
وليس يرضى القاتل

Roughly translated: “The full moon appears once every month, but your face, beautiful as the crescent mood, appears every day. People wonder, how can the murdered be pleased, while the murderer isn’t?” (In this case, the speaker is the murdered)..

Conclusions on Life


  1. Money is really NOT the answer. My students have taught me that there is an endless joy in teaching and learning –especially when you are doing it because you want to. When I am teaching (and learning from them) I am almost always dancing on the inside.
  2. You never really forget your first love. Adolescent love, specifically, has an effect you will never find again. Discovering the world for the first time, discovering yourself in love, giving and receiving and growing in love –that is a sacred love that never comes around again. There are different types of love, never the same love twice, and we should accept this.
  3. Some people will never love you the way you expect them to. But you shouldn’t expect love. If it is not freely given, you should not pursue it. Never convince someone to love you. I learned this the hard way.
  4. Some people will insist that life is too depressing, that loss is unavoidable, and will continue to fear the darkness. You must avoid drowning in their pit of misery. Of course, we could attempt to help them, but there is a very fine line between saving someone and sacrificing yourself. Choose yourself. There is no shame in that.
  5. With loss comes a greater gain. You will not see it immediately, and don’t try to look for the silver lining. Silver linings shine –you can’t miss it.
  6. When I drive my car, I feel a great sense of accomplishment and gratefulness. I am grateful that I have functional legs, that my fingers can grip the steering wheel, and that my eyesight is not hindered. It is really the small things in life that we take for granted, as cliché as that sounds.
  7. Real friends will criticize you and yet still love you the same. Real friends will not be afraid to criticize you, but they will also give you an equal dosage of unconditional support. Embrace them. Appreciate that blessing. So many people have playmates, but have zero real friends.
  8. Good conversations are very rare. If you find someone you can speak to for hours, you’ve found yet another gift from the universe. Tell them you love speaking to them, even if you disagree on every other topic!
  9. Tune into the Universe. Listen. Stop rambling about everything that is wrong with your life, everything and everyone that hurt you, and how this world has disappointed you. You might be the greatest disappointment yet if you never listen.
  10. The body and soul are in fact one. The more we resist this notion, the higher the chances are we’ll never heal. Find a sense of wholeness in your body, no matter what it looks like, however it functions, its limitations and lacks. Seek a sense of wholeness in your soul. Close your eyes and breathe. You’re still breathing. You exist. How can you not be grateful for the chance to heal yourself emotionally and physically? In the end, it’s all about breathing.


Butterfly Effect

Butterfly Effect/Chaos Theory: “The theory that even the smallest step one takes in his/her life can change the course of said life immensely. The name of this theory came to be when a Chaos Theory stated: “It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.”

Right vs. Left

Up vs. Down

Noon vs. Midnight

These choices, once chosen, are all examples of the Butterfly Effect and how one of these choices vs. another will affect one’s life greatly.”
Science. Facts. Something you can depend on to be concrete. One choice. One path, one road, one decision, one utterance, one word that changes everything. You alter your life and another’s. It was just one mistake, one word. The effect still rings in my ears, and the shock in your eyes, the trauma that followed.. The death of dreams. Delete: as though one never existed.

My apologies. My condolences. My regret. But chaos theory is a fact, and my words are just words.