Breathing Dust

Humility is my light, a Breathing Dust is who I am ..

Breathing Dust
Simply look away when dislike fills the air, simply drop the bomb of sympathy to keep yourself okay, and simply act the brittle part in inceptions of might and great – when your soul is peeled, and delusions of a psychological being remain.
If for some reason humbleness came your way for you to seek the truth, they will let you go. “Truth is an ocean, there are oceans of truth,” they’ll tell you. With all pleasure you swim from shore to shore. From shore to shore, as if there is a desire to struggle, a hunger for pain, and an unspoken grief over the growing excite that something within is mortal. From shore to shore, all, only to keep one from giving in to the cage they’ve locked themselves in. It is as putting a bird in a cage made of gold to keep the guilt away, and here, the souls are buried deep that only the make-up appears.
In such world, a hacked illusion feeding of despair, the shade is rarely tempting. Darkness veils itself in light, and any form of resistance is equivalent to slavery however one goes. Even to resist is to play by their rules of the game, and such is no different to slavery.
Remember, in such world, they’ll never tell you that sometimes everyone is just trying to “swim against the stream” to be themselves, and they never told you that everyone is almost lost busy swimming the oceans seeking the truth - still in their own cage.
Whereas the truth might really seem as vast as the ocean, the truth could just be a tear in a silent night, a sigh in acceptance to the process of life, and even simpler, a laugh of joy to all there is.
How difficult it is to embrace love and truth when one is in such a cage? How easy is to put oneself in a cage only to keep one from the reality of being a Breathing Dust? To break such cage is to reach the peak of humility so high up that one could fall and lose it all, but still, when done, the winds blow the fear away. For that is the only moment when humility is a power – an honor. Humility for love and compassion – humility only a true Breathing Dust would desire.

-Al-Gassim Sharafuddin, May 25, 2012

Understanding the Stir of Life

my life remains unpaved ..

Understanding the Stir of Life
Sometimes one can be fascinated by the change life brings about – the beauty of life experiences that happen due to this change, and the many lessons one learns and grows from. Nature, being full of change such as the most obvious change in time between day and night to the mystery of the change in the color levels of the sky, inspires the Human Being of importance of change. It is important to recognize this fact in one’s life that constants and facts could possibly and do change even if it’s not blooming obvious in the conscious life. Taken for granted the way nature changes in a specific order of things in such a way that whatever happens and follows will eventually lead to what should and need to have happened usually leaves people off without pondering on the value of it all. However, even if somehow the human thought was exerted on understanding the stir of life, such pattern of change could be observed as an inconsistency and not a fascination – a cosmic prison and not a beautiful harmony of oneness. It’s in the core of the Human need for consistency as well, and nature again brings us the rhythm of the waves of the ocean and how such sounds create harmony and self-awareness into the human soul. The answer to this stir of these junctures of life, change and consistent rhythm, is when both notions are tuned together they make the road of life – a road that is unpaved, for the one taking the journey to pave it.

-Al-Gassim Sharafuddin, May 03, 2012

Diseased Thoughts

it's the friction of thoughts that create the sparks!


Diseased Thoughts
With nothing more but the stillness of the dead in an empty grave where the diseased thoughts age, moments of a compulsive passion battles with nature. The illusion of the other side.
The more weak and lifeless, the more powerful. The wonder of it is the passion that needs no right or wrong and no possibility – to exist even in its empty tomb or dead state, is precisely what it needs. The passion that fights nature only to heave death upon whatever else time to thrive has yet to come. Indeed, except for souls, it finds a way to remain dead in the liveliest worlds. Perhaps its only luck is to die on the new born thoughts. Consequently, these thoughts are born dead – empty, diseased.
Thoughts that are born dead fill the world with more emptiness and grow more of its own numbness. These diseased thoughts that know no remedy but to petrify beauty or creativity – it’s the religion of double-standards in a world of slackened vision.
There is, however, a reason why its death is its power, and chooses to remain in its own grave. Only wants to show itself as a contrast to what blooms with life. A contrast – to appear as the other side.
In fact it is full of life and fears this revelation. The only shield for its long-acting survives through the disease of tampering the thoughts. Without this shield it reflects to be sub to nature, slave to destiny, and simply a form of thought. Certainly, its only success is to appear to be conflicting with nature. Emerge as a reality equal to the reality of nature itself, a truth of merely any life – a diseased thought.
For then if it illuminates with life, it will be presumed as a thought and will fail to fiddle supremely into other thoughts, it will now has less chance of approaching the souls. To distort the life souls are made up of, into the eye of death it will fail. The disease by itself can no longer exist. Thus, the graveyard shall bare more diseased thoughts until the other side is born dead.

-         Al-Gassim Sharafuddin  April 13, 2012