Isle of Skye

Unfinished conversations,                  half-baked plans. A present given with so much thought and love that I could almost cry; had I any tears left. A year on and the promise that I thought I had made to life                 has petered out; it barely smoulders. Such are the vicious repetitive cycles of the life I choose for myself,                 unforgiving, mundane, a continuously dumping on myself, such is the blank Love is so much harder to come by,                and once again, the unspoken questions stain my lips Is this it? Is this all? How is it that the things that people hold dear, I feel nothing for? Surely I didn't sign up for this lack of feeling, f...

Affirmation This year I will be the person I want to be.  I will make a difference in this world by my positive attitude.  I will be committed to my own self and my own self and spiritual development.  I will honour my word and speak my truth. My Sacred Energy “There are no extra pieces in the universe. Everyone is here because he or she has a place to fill, and every piece must fit itself into the big jigsaw puzzle.”  ~ Deepak Chopra Even pupae need love and friendship and a kind word. That is all I have to say.  Our relationship is not as equals at all.  Not like yours with her.  I know it's my own thoughts and feelings in the way. I'm the one making myself feel like this. Even pupae need love and friendship and a kind word. In the meantime, I guess I'll have to make do with feeling envious, jealous, and becoming a perfectly formed, but bitter, chrysalis-butterfly. With only four people who love her. Two of whom I know and appreciate. And ...

How many times can a heart break? Or be beaten into a pulp? How much can you love a person? How many times are you willing to rip yourself into shreds, because, as much as you'd like to deny it, you love this man-boy and you know he doesn't love you. You can't just be friends. You see him as your Soul. And he doesn't. And it's taken over your entire life. Until you're subconsciously self-sabotaging. And there's not a single shoulder to cry on. No one to rub it better. Physically. Because it physically hurts. Sunday, 31/10 11:46 am Sukaina wrote: "Salaam. Interesting text to receive. Before I give you a time to call, tell me, what do you want to talk about? I'm not a yo-yo, you know. Are you a player?" 12:04 pm Imran wrote: "Ws, yes sukaina I'm a player! I thought I'd suggest it, but if your not comfortable with it, then its cool. I know you're not a yo-yo, so have no fear." 12:14 pm Sukaina wrote: "Imran! There you go...

... when anyone says that, it means it's going badly. It's all messy and you've obviously "screwed up". So, you know what's been happening this weekend. Well, little Suki is learning. I am trying to take this at a meta aware level. Looking at myself as one looks at children playing. Seeing the tantrums, the emotional ways I've acted. I kidnapped 15 books from Farhat Apa - this weekend was one of those weird, flowing ones. I just hope I was able able to spread healing and Reiki around, even though I was sleep-deprived. I finally called and spoke to him yesterday. He has such a gorgeous, typical, North London, Khoja voice. A really sexy voice... sigh, Sukaina, be-HAVE! ;) He told me he avoids conflict, which is just great for me. He told me my emails were a little exasperating. I said "You can't just say that and not elaborate" He said they are 2 page emails and he just has to read and read and read. But I wasn't my usual charming ...

The Emotional Alchemy book said it was good, the body releases that which needs to be released. I felt empty and unlovable for a bit, then the waterworks transformed into a soothing balm for the heart. I couldn't sleep, for the most obvious of reasons, even after listening to an hour of Darren Hayes, Keane and Atif Aslam . That's also partly because I shot down 60g of plain dark chocolate in one go yesterday while going through the emotional release. So, I went to the kitchen to make some chamomile and then I noticed how clear the sky was after the rain. So, I opened the back door and went into the garden and.... If any of you have a chance, meditate at 2:30 in the black night on the little grid of stars that He has put there for us. Add the cooling wind for a calming sound effect. And I looked, and I gazed, and I regarded. And I contemplated. And, slowly, calm and trust and acceptance came into the heart. Once again, the stars and the winds and the velvet sky whisper...

I want you to know my entire Soul, my entire being.  I want my smile to be imprinted in your memoire for eternity. And yet. I seek the best from God. And it seems that there's a flaw in the system. I knew it was too easy to be true. The first time, with you ticking almost all the boxes? Cosmic playthings, we are. And He's laughing at our ignorance. Yet not ready to show His cards. Eh, ben. Quoi faire? Je lache tous les attachements à la mémoire et l'idéal de toi. Que sera, sera .

...these entries I made three years ago. I think it’s vital for me to post them up here, at this time, on this day. 19 Aug 2007 Ma vie est merde. The weather has been cloudy since I came back. My father is as selfish and cocky as ever. My health is as poor as ever. My SAD has already begun. I MUST get a light box. I don’t trust my father – j’suis devenue vulnerable à cause d’etre isolée ici – sans ma mère . J’pense pas que j’ai la fortitude. J’sais pas. Je veux être mariée, mais la question est: comment, quand et avec qui? C’est vrai que j’ai l’espoir de trouver qqn, mais c’est autant vrai ce que dit ma mère: il n’y aura bcp d’offres. Le marriage à Birmingham est peut-être une ocassion ou je peux profiter, mais le coeur deprimée ne veut pas y aller non plus et pas avec le père. Les aspirations de travailler avec Oxfam et Amnesty sont devenues nulles. Je suis deprimée – je veux rien faire. Pourqui c’est inventi – la depression – les gens perdent une moitée de la vie, de la jo...

Jo bhi haddein thhi , saarey paar kardi mein ne . Jo teen maheene pehle soch bhi nahin kar saki , paar kardi . I am a regular free-loader, pill-popper, unsociable isolate. All my understanding about dysthymia was incomplete; thanks to my own stubbornness I am an entire year behind where I could have been. Maybe I didn't even have to leave London, if these bloody pills had worked in the first three months. I appreciate my GP doing what I was comfortable with, however I'm still a child and should have just let her do her thing. Questioning the pills - the whole world is on them. And why the fuck was I so scared of taking Prozac; because it made me suicidal? Wasn't that the whole point of my existence then? What a fucking disappointment I am, even as a depressive. Can't even do that right. And now I have no will to kill myself because it's going to be worse there than here. I mean, seriously, my entire year has been wasted in fruitless dreams. I don'...

What’s it like to be you? I have a very internal focus. I think I look at myself through other people’s eyes, but sometimes I can lose touch with how things work for me. Then I can get introspective, going very deep and staying there, not coming out too quickly or easily. Somehow I find it very difficult to put into words and communicate the things that really matter to me. Most people don’t have the foggiest notion about what goes on with me. I like harmony and seek consensus and do well with the deep issues. My values and the things that are important to me often feel outside the mainstream in the sense that I feel impinged upon and uncomfortable with so much of what goes on. I’m too private to push my values on to other people, but I am convinced that one ought to be congruent in their own life if they are going to expect congruence from others. In a sense I hold other people to that standard, and I worry about my own incongruities, inconsistencies, and contradictions. Groups can be...

Storms in England, storm in Karachi. Thunder. Clouds. Strong winds. Bomb blasts in Lahore and Islamabad, no longer just in Karachi. Lost any inspiration to write. I don't know why I continue to write to Umair. Makes no ruddy sense. I wanted to take more than one sleeping pill yesterday, so it's a good thing my mum was there and had an inkling (not that I have ever been able to hide my emotions, they like staying on my sleeve). I told her to hide them and to keep giving me one each night. Then she felt guilty and slept in my bed at night. So I told her, "Am I only bearable when I am unconscious?" No hugging or anything, mind you. Huge thunderclap. A mother of storms, which equals to flooding since we don't have any proper sewerage draining system. This also means the phone lines and the Internet will be disconnected for a few days. Oh, joy. And probably the electricity and the television cable. Well, at least I have a few Shakespeare plays and some ruddy romance no...

Does watching creative people and music and programmes on telly make you feel creative? Or am I so desperate to make meaning into my life and to 'get on with it' that I've superficially imbibed the creativity and energy of the Aag TV VJs and Indus News reporters, only to later crash and fizzle out without a sound, only to end up on the trash heap of wannabes-but-never-were-because-they-were-too-stupid-and-lazy-and-fucked-up? I had a dream-like epiphany this morning which made feel all author-like and wanting to write a novel about my depression, and then to make a film, all the while incorporating Jungian MBTI and enneagram types. And then I realised there is no way I can do that. This personality thing cannot be brought to the silver screen and explored and presented perfectly in just two hours, or even three. Well, maybe three. But it's not as though I am capable of writing a screenplay. And then I watched this programme on Indus News about the class system that is be...

Who am I? Am I someone who is unnecessarily alienating everyone in my social circle, beginning with my family? My mum can't stand my voicing an opinion and retreats to yelling and screaming to get me to shut up. My aunt says things which I tend to take the wrong way, such as, " When you go to London, you're going to take all the magnets with you?" I doubt that it was a slip-of-the-tongue, though. And then when I tell my mum that I need to get married because it's become compulsory on me, she said, "Well, you had your chance and you said no"...meaning that little thingy with the Syed last year. So I told her, "I'd be divorced by now." She said "No, Syeds never divorce." So I said, "What, so it's alright for me lead a shitty life in a defunct marriage? My life would be horrible." She then has the frigging gall to say, "No, you'd make his life miserable." Seriously, with family like this, is it any fucki...