...was a desire I never knew I had. It made me laugh so much. I love them. I hope to get out of the house today as soon as I feel able and take my camera and hoping the ice is still there so I can take pictures. The temperature has risen again.
The past couple of days have been a nightmare. How can C tell me to give it more time? How much more time? She doesn't even know why I said that it's a mistake, coming here. She doesn't know that I physically assaulted my father, hitting him repeatedly on the head and breaking his £400 glasses. The optician won't even be open till the 4th of January. That's 10 whole entire days.
Zafar (from Kartography) is right. The monster is alive in all of us, lurking. God, where the hell is the redemption? I have, for years imagined the monster gone. Only for it to emerge in full force and I wasn't even in control. It was like a dream.
I do not care what Fadhlallah has to say - that there is no such thing as I was not myself. What do you say when the person who imagined yourself to be turns out to be what your parents and family and peers wanted you to be? And then you imbibe their thoughts to make it your own? And so you deny the fact that you love music, that you love films, that you love nature, that you love simplicity, that you value being by yourself, that you believe in a soul mate (even if it means you have to imagine him up)? What do you say about a person who has for 23 years continued to think the world good and moral and then she finds to things that shatter her worldview again and again and just makes her wonder? What's worse, it makes her feel thankful that she is naive and shy so that these desires, these temptations - although radically present and thriving, she suppresses them, or she projects them on unsuspecting email friends or she displaces her anger on them as well.
Darren Hayes knows me so well. Because he knows himself so well. He is an angel - angelic voice, angelic words.
INFP songs:
Where you want to be - Darren Hayes
Dublin Sky - Darren Hayes
Hero - Darren Hayes
Crash and Burn - Savage Garden
(basically, most of Darren Hayes/Savage Garden songs. He just can't be an INFP, can he? He's probably an ISFP)
Driftwood - Travis
If You're Not The One - Daniel Bedingfield
Never Gonna Leave Your Side - Daniel Bedingfield
All I Need - Boyzone
Can I Hold You Tonight - Boyzone
Gone - *NSYNC
Tearing Up My Heart - *NSYNC
ALL KEANE SONGS.
Keane was really a blessing. It made me feel okay to like songs like that, it made me shocked to find that people actually wanted to make that type of music. It made me surprised that they felt as I did. It's Tim Oxeley-whatever who writes all the lyrics. Please don't turn to the guitar. Please.
Gay people have this. It's probably the case that most INFP/INFJ etc guys are gay. Or feel they need to be gay. Why? Because they feel less masculine, there's less testosterone? What? They have beautiful souls, why do they taint them with homosexuality and sodomy? It is wrong. I empathise with you because you have no clue why you are like this when everyone says it's wrong. It forces you to hate God and to give up on religion. But the facts are the facts. It is wrong. So what do we do? How on Earth do we save them? Particularly the Muslim-born ones? How do we figure out what went wrong? It's a disease since Sodom and Gomorrah. WHY? It wasn't there before, according to the Qur'an.
I've lost my train of thought - because it is now 1 pm.
Let's try freewriting again.
My body aches. I feel disgusted and let down. I had such innate trust in God and He let me down by sending me here. You see, You don't have the limitations that we do, Lord. The restrictions of an animalistic, demonic nature. Why such opposites? And why in societies; the societies have just become the same. They are the same, they were the same.
Things to do before I die:
Convert someone into believing.
Have a Ginger cat.
See a play in the theatre.
Have money that I just give away in charity and it reaches the right people.
Help someone learn how to read and write.
Give up the notion that I will ever marry.
Which brings me back to my train of thought.
It's useless, this ideal. All the men older than I am are promiscuous and non-virgins. All the men younger than me are really just boys and are either as non-virginal as those older or not mature enough for jack. Or they are wankers, in the literal sense.
I am so glad - okay, I know - but I am so glad that Mairy is a virgin. But I hate him for not replying to my email. It wasn't even that intense. Prick. I hope he rots in Hell. Why do I like him so much? Why do I romanticize him as my Karim? What a load of bollocks.
Man, that Kamila Shamsie is so good as an author; she has made me feel so nostalgic about Karachi that I am seriously considering going in February. Why can't I realise that her Karachi is miles away from mine? I was thinking again that I want to go and teach kids English, the poor ones. Do literature and life coaching and everything. I will; but when I can. I can't now. I love the children. I love the animals. Those are the constants.
Before I die: Do something worthwhile that helps others so much, the difference between Heaven and Hell. In Pakistan. Something, there's got to be something.
Why the Hell don't they make us read books like Watership Down and The Alchemist at school? Why is it always other people telling me what to read? I am ever grateful to Ms Tazeen for that. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't even know Kartography existed.
I am not just sad; I am afraid of crossing boundaries. Why is that? Have I taken in (introjected) my parents' fears? My mum's?
Before I die: hold a robin, a sparrow, a blackbird, a seagull, a butterfly, a bunny in my hands and communicate with them so they know how much I love them and they can tell me something about the mystery of life. I will be so happy when that happens.
I don't have any bloody intuition at all. Maybe I am an ISFP. Because I woke in the morning after a series of crap dreams at night and heard a clunking noise and immediately 'intuited' that the toilet had broken and my dad was trying to fix it and I know how would find the bag inside the cistern and get very angry at me; another black stroke against my record. And I said to God 'Why? When we only have one toilet? Thanks a lot.' I go out of my room and it was just my dad washing his shirts and making noises.
You see how stupid and non-intuitive I am? I never did very well at school. Didn't know words or idioms. Didn't know to express myself on paper, forget speaking. Always the white superiority - black/brown minority inside of my head.
Still know nothing. I'm lying to myself. I still want love; after everything. I still want love.
The past couple of days have been a nightmare. How can C tell me to give it more time? How much more time? She doesn't even know why I said that it's a mistake, coming here. She doesn't know that I physically assaulted my father, hitting him repeatedly on the head and breaking his £400 glasses. The optician won't even be open till the 4th of January. That's 10 whole entire days.
Zafar (from Kartography) is right. The monster is alive in all of us, lurking. God, where the hell is the redemption? I have, for years imagined the monster gone. Only for it to emerge in full force and I wasn't even in control. It was like a dream.
I do not care what Fadhlallah has to say - that there is no such thing as I was not myself. What do you say when the person who imagined yourself to be turns out to be what your parents and family and peers wanted you to be? And then you imbibe their thoughts to make it your own? And so you deny the fact that you love music, that you love films, that you love nature, that you love simplicity, that you value being by yourself, that you believe in a soul mate (even if it means you have to imagine him up)? What do you say about a person who has for 23 years continued to think the world good and moral and then she finds to things that shatter her worldview again and again and just makes her wonder? What's worse, it makes her feel thankful that she is naive and shy so that these desires, these temptations - although radically present and thriving, she suppresses them, or she projects them on unsuspecting email friends or she displaces her anger on them as well.
Darren Hayes knows me so well. Because he knows himself so well. He is an angel - angelic voice, angelic words.
INFP songs:
Where you want to be - Darren Hayes
Dublin Sky - Darren Hayes
Hero - Darren Hayes
Crash and Burn - Savage Garden
(basically, most of Darren Hayes/Savage Garden songs. He just can't be an INFP, can he? He's probably an ISFP)
Driftwood - Travis
If You're Not The One - Daniel Bedingfield
Never Gonna Leave Your Side - Daniel Bedingfield
All I Need - Boyzone
Can I Hold You Tonight - Boyzone
Gone - *NSYNC
Tearing Up My Heart - *NSYNC
ALL KEANE SONGS.
Keane was really a blessing. It made me feel okay to like songs like that, it made me shocked to find that people actually wanted to make that type of music. It made me surprised that they felt as I did. It's Tim Oxeley-whatever who writes all the lyrics. Please don't turn to the guitar. Please.
Gay people have this. It's probably the case that most INFP/INFJ etc guys are gay. Or feel they need to be gay. Why? Because they feel less masculine, there's less testosterone? What? They have beautiful souls, why do they taint them with homosexuality and sodomy? It is wrong. I empathise with you because you have no clue why you are like this when everyone says it's wrong. It forces you to hate God and to give up on religion. But the facts are the facts. It is wrong. So what do we do? How on Earth do we save them? Particularly the Muslim-born ones? How do we figure out what went wrong? It's a disease since Sodom and Gomorrah. WHY? It wasn't there before, according to the Qur'an.
I've lost my train of thought - because it is now 1 pm.
Let's try freewriting again.
My body aches. I feel disgusted and let down. I had such innate trust in God and He let me down by sending me here. You see, You don't have the limitations that we do, Lord. The restrictions of an animalistic, demonic nature. Why such opposites? And why in societies; the societies have just become the same. They are the same, they were the same.
Things to do before I die:
Convert someone into believing.
Have a Ginger cat.
See a play in the theatre.
Have money that I just give away in charity and it reaches the right people.
Help someone learn how to read and write.
Give up the notion that I will ever marry.
Which brings me back to my train of thought.
It's useless, this ideal. All the men older than I am are promiscuous and non-virgins. All the men younger than me are really just boys and are either as non-virginal as those older or not mature enough for jack. Or they are wankers, in the literal sense.
I am so glad - okay, I know - but I am so glad that Mairy is a virgin. But I hate him for not replying to my email. It wasn't even that intense. Prick. I hope he rots in Hell. Why do I like him so much? Why do I romanticize him as my Karim? What a load of bollocks.
Man, that Kamila Shamsie is so good as an author; she has made me feel so nostalgic about Karachi that I am seriously considering going in February. Why can't I realise that her Karachi is miles away from mine? I was thinking again that I want to go and teach kids English, the poor ones. Do literature and life coaching and everything. I will; but when I can. I can't now. I love the children. I love the animals. Those are the constants.
Before I die: Do something worthwhile that helps others so much, the difference between Heaven and Hell. In Pakistan. Something, there's got to be something.
Why the Hell don't they make us read books like Watership Down and The Alchemist at school? Why is it always other people telling me what to read? I am ever grateful to Ms Tazeen for that. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't even know Kartography existed.
I am not just sad; I am afraid of crossing boundaries. Why is that? Have I taken in (introjected) my parents' fears? My mum's?
Before I die: hold a robin, a sparrow, a blackbird, a seagull, a butterfly, a bunny in my hands and communicate with them so they know how much I love them and they can tell me something about the mystery of life. I will be so happy when that happens.
I don't have any bloody intuition at all. Maybe I am an ISFP. Because I woke in the morning after a series of crap dreams at night and heard a clunking noise and immediately 'intuited' that the toilet had broken and my dad was trying to fix it and I know how would find the bag inside the cistern and get very angry at me; another black stroke against my record. And I said to God 'Why? When we only have one toilet? Thanks a lot.' I go out of my room and it was just my dad washing his shirts and making noises.
You see how stupid and non-intuitive I am? I never did very well at school. Didn't know words or idioms. Didn't know to express myself on paper, forget speaking. Always the white superiority - black/brown minority inside of my head.
Still know nothing. I'm lying to myself. I still want love; after everything. I still want love.