Black Lotus

I wonder what the point of a lot of things is; until I try to reflect on what the point of having a point is. My journey of reflections, conclusions and contemplations is not marked by checkpoints or milestones. I don't pick up the book where I left off. Owing to life's happenings I often forgo or even forget my progress. The spiritual path is often about rewinding, restarting, relearning or even undoing before you can redo things. I think back on all the things I've thought back on. All the times I think back on things from the past. What conclusions I reach, I wonder. Where are they now? What does it mean to have or not have them? If I will always be better tomorrow what's even the point of doing things today. And if I'll always make mistakes what's even the point in learning from them. To make better mistakes perhaps? Or the fact that we keep trying? Or does redemption lie in having walked the path further than the last visit? Even if The Path is infinite, th...

"Who was she?" "Everything nice amidst all of my chaos. Let's leave it at that now." He replied. "No please tell me!" She begged. "Well.. she was everything right to my everything wrong... What?" "Lame ass that literally sounds like a ripoff from a highway bookstores' quote card." She smirked. 'Sigh.' he took a drag from his half done cigarette and continued "She.. she was my mane. She was the light in my dark. She was the truth in disguise. She was the fire in the circus. The love of my life. She was the fleeting spark off of a Flint. She was the polarity to my extremes. She was what no one else could ever be. She was what I needed but didn't deserve. She was what I had when I lost it all. She was there when no one was. She was the spirit of my life. She was the twist to my plots-" She interrupted "hey! but, wait, why is it that you seem to be narrating a past experience?" She wondered "Whe...

Not all stories are made in heaven. Some of them just tend to happen. At a roadside stall in windy summers, was when I met Huraira. Luckily it wasn't humid nor did I live with someone else. So it was quite easy for me to get her into my apartment. She walked a little tipsy. Upon inspection, I saw bruises on her feet. She was still ill and now in a worse state since I met her on the road, due to travel. I had to tend to her wounds several times. She'd whimper each time I cleaned the wounds.  I'd left her in the house and gone to work, hoping to avoid confrontation once she woke up. Sure enough by the time I came back, she woke up but, didn't leave. Strangely though I couldn't get myself to question. She was just curious that way. I didn't speak to her. Just walked in got on about my things pretending to not see her. Eventually, she got up and came up and sat beside me. I was just wondering something and the next thing I know she closes my laptop. I stare at ...

I hope one day as you look in the mirror. You like what you see. The reflection in the glass, as you gaze at the rainbow, smiles at you.  You pick up your books and flaunt them around. You pin your favorite poems on the fridge. You wake up at night, only to have more ice cream. And you only feel numb by a brain freeze. You only feel cold in the snow.  I hope you let your soul graze as you grow. I wish you live a life of peace. Tell tales of inspiration.  You became what you need. All your wants in your reach. I hope you are at peace with what you achieve. Also, like what you dream at night.  I sincerely hope that every time you look at your scars, you feel proud. The undying courage frothing through your visage. That contagious aura of wisdom always guiding.  One day, you snuggle in your spot with a book and coffee, clad in a comfy blanket.  All your thoughts organized. I wish you see the beauty in yourself, you now deny. I hope one day you are able to for...