Redeemed by the presence of another, knowing that life exist yet beside you. Within the confines of my bare & white room, I take comfort in my room mate's softly breathing figure.
A casual silence suffused with that unspoken, familiar, longing for...I'd like to say 'Home' but that's not quite it. Sometimes it's starkly clear to me, how irredeemably vacillating I am.
I want, need, something more. More than this.
Somewhere in my darkening mind, I realize that I, no longer have ambitions. I am comfortable, yes. I am perfectly fine with the path my life seems to be motioning for. I have more than accepted my current fate.
But I'm always the prospective kind. I look forward, to a fault. Abandoning the "here & now" (Star Wars reference for you there).
I look for 'causes' to champion, something to fill the void. I like to be passionate. Love it. And this is where I lose myself. That hunger can't ever be satisfied with these fleeting fancies I preoccupy myself with. I'm perfectly aware of it.
Therein lies the rub (Hamlet y'all). Knowing a fault doesn't necessarily trigger a remedy. In fact, it just irritates, nags and worries.
It's so easy to distract myself from my dilemmas. Right now though I want to be lucid. I am far from the Muslimah I should be (God, another Star Wars reference). See? I can't even be serious anymore. I jest with myself, for what else is there to do?
There is an answer for that, of course: Trust Allah SWT.