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)..

My newest book will be published and released by September 2016. Here is, a sneak peak, more like just a peak, me being a tease, a bit narcissistic (but that’s what this blog is all about). It is still cooking, still being carried around safely, and I am waiting impatiently for its birth. This is the last trimester 🙂 


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.


Mountain Peak


There is a beautiful place that we visited together. We climbed all the way up, step by step, and each step we took was closer to paradise. I stopped halfway, out of breath. I looked up, and there was a long way to go. Breathless, I looked at you questioningly. I couldn’t do it. But the peak was so close, almost, almost.

“Give me your hand,” you said. You smiled, encouragingly.

Like a child, I reached out for you. There we go. Steady, steady. Watch your step. There’s a rock under your foot, be careful.

It took us about ten minutes. We got there, eventually. It was the most serene view. Nothing looked the same anymore. From where we stood, everything else was so small. I had never been here before. Silently, I took it all in. Then I looked at you, and I realized, the beauty was shining through you. It was your moonlight. The way you were happy to be near me. The way you wanted me to belong.

We spent the night on the mountain, blankets not doing their job, the cold air attacking our bones. I was awake before dawn. As the sun rose, I knew the inevitable truth: nobody stays here.

“Now what? How do we get back down?” you asked me, voicing my fears.

“I don’t like it there anymore,” I replied. I reached for your hand to comfort you, but you shifted.

I knew that you were afraid of staying, afraid of too much belonging. You were afraid that one day the cold nights would kill you. You were afraid of the way there was only silence, the beautiful silence scared you. I was calm, and at home where you were. It didn’t matter to me – but I could not convince you otherwise. It was temporary bliss for you, beauty that would dissolve.

“I love the mountains, but I have to get back down. I’m sorry,” you said, eyes brimming with tears.

You dashed off, leaving me with two blankets,  and made your way back down.

It’s been awhile, and I think I like it up here.  I just might need water soon

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.


I am scared of a life that is painful, of losing, of not being the same. Yes. But I am braver than you think. I don’t stop at anything. Even when I have to crawl my way to a place, I do it. I believe in life, and love, and passion, and living life feeling that I am blessed to be here. Sometimes I am as afraid as you are. But then I remember the way we stare into each other’s eyes, the way we can never look away from each other, and I know it is you. It is our definition of love, not anyone else’s. We both know. And I wish you knew, my strength will always kill my fears. I will give you all of my strength, if you’d only give me you.


I drove my car for an hour, I am not sure, time had become too confusing. I finally parked it, turned off the engine, as though I was turning off my thoughts. But your voice wouldn’t leave me alone. It was starting to kill me, the thoughts, and I couldn’t speak. You had taken my voice, and as I waited for you, waited to see you, to ask you to Return it, I was stunned by the sight of you walking out, walking as you always did, as though you stepped out of a Victorian novel. It was you, it was the same walk, the same sunglassss, the same bounce in your stride, the calmness that threatened to leave people breathless, it was you. 

But you didn’t recognize me, and the sight of you split me in two. Just like the moon, there you were, a full moon, and I was split in half- voiceless, wanting my voice back, my spirit, and you.