Saturday, February 21, 2009

i am worry because the state of my mind is not so clear once again.
i hate to say this, but really, this whole problem has been haunting me for all these times.
whenever i am alone, i am just driving, driving, driving, and driving.
i can't stop, because once i stop, i will be start thinking this problem.
once i stop and pull out of the highway, i will try to get there.
a place that i shouldn't be.
a place that i have the right to be, but i can't.
and just because i don't hear anything from her anymore that is driving me crazy from time to time.
i have to keep myself occupied or i go back to the same place i started
i don't know anything anymore and i don't know why i am doing this

no hope only love. the one thing that brings people and tear up the people in the same time.


Sunday, February 15, 2009

Pel is dressed in hearts. Valentine's Day is coming up, 3 days away. We are making cards in all of the classrooms, a lesson on addresses, postage, letters, mailpeople. All of them will get a card in the mail on Saturday, if I've gotten the addresses right.

"I love hearts," Pel says, red plastic rhinestone-dotted hearts on her pierced ears, small pink hearts on her red turtleneck, a sparkly white heart on a thin cord around her neck.

"I can tell. You're covered in them! And look, they are all around the room! Do you know why there are so many hearts all around this week?"

She smiles, and turns her face towards mine eagerly, her dark brown pigtails swaying from their perch high on her head. Pel likes being asked questions. "Valentine's Day" she says.

We start talking about cards and candy, and what we love and how we say "I love you." I tell her you can say "I love you" in any language, even silent ones, and ones that aren't really what you would think a language is at all.

She asks what language is.

"What do you speak at home? Arabic?"


"What do you speak at school?"


I begin to explain something about language when Pel says "Kurdish is Islam. Islam is good." She smiles brightly.

Pel is seven. She learned English in 3 months.

"Do you go to mosque?"

She nods happily.

"Do you go on the weekends?"

Nod. Smile spreading.

"Do you go on the weekdays?"

Nod, smile widening. She is moving a yellow marker, cap off, absently, from one hand to another, tilting it up and down.

"You go during the week and during the weekend?"

"Yes, both" she says, small teeth winking out in her smile.

"Islam is good" she says again, putting her marker down and picking up a pencil.

"I'm glad Islam is good for you. Does it make you happy?"

Smile, nod, gleaming eyes.

"Do you like Islam?"

I tilt my head. "I don't like or dislike Islam. It just isn't right for me."

On the bottom of the coloring sheet of the bear in the dress with the purse, holding a heart-shaped valentine, Pel draw a "t".

"Do you like this?"

I shake my head. "No, Christianity is not right for me. Islam is good for you, Christianity is good for some people, but neither is right for me."

She nods, picks up her yellow marker, and starts working on the Bear's beaded necklace.

Friday, February 6, 2009

he did it all for you, so what about me? who is gonna do it for me?

this is my body and i am keeping it awake.
all it's been pretty rough, because to be honest, 50% of time i don't know what i am doing anymore, 50% i found a lot i wish to do, and i started, but the end result is nothing being accomplished.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Before I put myself to sleep tonight...

All I have left is the echo of your sweet voice in remedy.
As the music is off, there's something wrong.
Why can't is last?
If there is a chance, and if we ever did.
Stay if we can, and we can do it again.
When the radio starts to play
I pray
That there is one more for the lovers
I play
Again to the soul of my lover



I am going down the wrong way and yet there's nothing to keep me from myself
Sinking my teeth and just to have one more taste of you
Wish I can keep you for a while
Wish there's something you can say
So maybe you can make me feel okay
The sweet moment that I long for
And maybe a little bit more of you to keep me feel alright
It's got to be you
It's got to be you
It's got to be you
Please save me from myself
And so I can drink from you once more



It runs and runs and never stop
So I drive and drive and never stop
It's one degree under zero, my eyes turn red as the tires spin
Trace of your present has never been so clear
I wish i was asleep
Night stalk can't stop
Night stalk can't prevent
Night stalk is not what I need
In between the fine line I cannot keep
For once, for the taste of you
I drive and drive until I hit but not crash
And I stop and ask
God damn it, what have I done