Is it possible to arrive without having ever departed?

What then is the space in-between and how does one reference the library from no absolute bookends?

Let’s try suspended animation instead, shall we?


Is There Anybody Out There?

Beep, beep, beep, beep,  
Crisis hotlines don’t ring anymore; only busy signals


Telegraphist, please: Three dits, three dahs, and three dits, to run them together without letter spacing. S.O.S!



Maybe smoke signal?





Dilluted Dissent

Retrieved from

Daher, Ghinwa.  “The threat that a peaceful smile brings to the fearful robots.”  Photograph.  Lightly (Blog), (2015).  Retrieved from  Original Photo

Without “them” there would be no “us” and so it is we are positioned before one another; eye to eye. Hoping for the other to willingly stand down, become bored, or at last resort: throw the first punch and justify our mutual gathering here today. And as you cross our line, we have our justification to cross yours. Into chaos we will plummet. No one can be clear about which party initiated the crossover, but surely in the aftermath we will blame you and you will blame us.

The spoils of war are most notable in the lost energy of individuals therein. From staunchly defended, diluted truths for which we fight, vehemently. Not long ago the nobility behind the cause was true and pure at its source. That was before we succumbed to a watered down version of the original as per our individual and collective egoic agendas.

Bloodied and battered from many missteps, our armies retreat licking their wounds. We regroup to gather momentum for the next showdown. No time allotted for reflection on the effectiveness of our approach. Logic rarely given light to the ceaseless cycle to which we have signed our lives over in the fight for beliefs. Beliefs that now take on a life of their own and have moved so far from the origin that they look only vaguely familiar even when we tilt our heads just right to one side. But yet we fight on…


The Freedom of Security

As we scramble to protect ourselves from unforeseen threats, inevitably we close our hearts to the beauty of connection. Each time we concede to “taking measures” for safety, we trade it for something greater and ultimately we lose a uniquely human trait called compassion; the very thing that was absent in the face of the most horrific human events. It is the perpetual state that we find ourselves in as a race.

The Revolution will not be Televised


What feels like a tangible stronghold of power and “establishment absolutism” is merely an illusion of what we see on the surface. Daily we are reminded of its “might” and there is great influence to allude us. Look at the television, look at the newspaper; the branches appear to stretch high above and all around. But it is a structure set upon a shaky foundation, as it is not grounded in truth. Without authenticity, all efforts to convince are undermined by the fact that there is nothing to hold it up when a strong wind threatens this apparition.

On the other hand, there is true strength in collective. We the tiny blades of grass on the crust of the Earth are numerous and have an expansive network that covers huge distances below. We are nurtured by one another expending individual effort to grow deeper, and to create meaningful shifts in current reality by standing for a common cause. Because we inherently know it is the birthright of every living being to be free of suffering and to have a fair chance at a happy life experience.

Though we have often stood in the shade of what seems to be an entity too big for us to challenge, we mustn’t forget that if we are vast in number and skill. From such a realization we are strengthened to continue to gust for the sake of justice, truth, and love. Working as a collective, there is no option for surface illusion but to shatter.


“For a successful revolution it is not enough that there is discontent. What is required is a profound and thorough conviction of the justice, necessity and importance of political and social rights.” ~ B.R. Ambedkar

(Image concept from a sketch by Ali Farzat)

Waking Beauty

A spell was cast upon all of the land, cursing everyone into a deep sleep. Centuries passed, many lives spent in the drone of daily hibernation. And then it happened, beauties far and wide began to awaken. Yawning, arms stretched to the sun’s morning rays; they laughed at their many futile expectations for a prince to come along and quench a deep thirst for meaning. The kiss came from within. After all, it was they themselves who had uttered the malediction believing themselves unworthy of love. It broke the spell with an anecdote of forgiveness and pure compassion. A lifetime spent awaiting a simple incantation: All is love.