Power of thoughts

You are a system of beliefs, your mind is the pilot room & the third eye projects outwards the beliefs in your system making reality a flexible reflection. Like a machine, your mind needs fuel of things that motivate you, the fuel determines your destination. Your relationship with your creator & creations feed the virtual reality in your imagination till it emerges with the real world becoming alive. Recreate yourself, your thoughts are either waste of or recycled from fuel & every system needs updating. After believing is achieving. Balance: expand your small self being the better self aiming for the higher self; the piece of God then connect with the universe feeling its energy feeding your inner energy believing in law of attraction,¬†Allah says “I am how my slave thinks that I am, and I am with him if he remembers Me…” Be present to live the present then give back believing in law of karma,¬†Allah also says “If ye are grateful, I will add more (favours) unto you…” – Hanoof Alajmi

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Trapped

He opened the giant black chest to find a letter and a mirror. The letter says – “Do not look in the mirror or you will be drawn in to drown.” He looked in to see someone behind him … It was him but he had black eyes, he smiled then pushed him into the mirror.

He fell into a white sky through the clouds then rained on this world. The drops of his rain came together to be this liquid form figure that took his shape but he was transparent.

He saw his hands then tried to touch his face like the portrait “The Scream” … He looked like it in the others’s eyes even though they’re not familiar with it. He stood for moments in fear, confusion and horror.

He kept running in this transparent world which has no other form than water. Entire buildings were standing on their own. “Where is the logic?! Water which does not need a vessel to be contained?” People were people alright … They stared with judging eyes like they see through you into your soul.

“Excuse me … I came into your world from the mirror which is in the chest and I came down like … Like rain? Do you know if- …”
“Get away from me! You’re crazy!”
“Well … It turns out that they don’t know that there is a leak … I need a person who knows …”

“Oh my god! Are you Adam’s son?!!”
“Yes … I am!”
“You look so much like him … Do you want me to take you to his mansion?”
“He has a mansion here? …”
“Come on my friend I’ll lead the way.”

“Welcome sir …”
“I have butlers?”
“You have all that you need and want.”
“I believe I’m dreaming or hallucinating … Am I mad? Wow … Look at these paintings, the sculptures, the library looks like heaven … Are these drawn angels on the ceiling? …”
“Sir, have a seat. Dinner is ready.”
“It’s a chicken in a water form … It has no taste …”
“Is it good sir?”
“Oh yes …”
“Not fulfilling … Wake up … What am I doing here? I don’t belong here! I might be surrounded by people but I’m alone! I need to go back.”

He asked the butler – “Do you know someone who knows about the mirror?”
“Sir, it’s an ancient story that our grandmothers used to tell. The only person who still talks of it is Le Fou …”
“Take me to him.”

“Mr Fou … I don’t belong here.”
“Of course not.”
“I can’t stay here … My life will be wasted. I need to live … I’ve just known what I want to do with my life. To give it a meaning … My existence.”
“What is the meaning of existence?”
“To believe in it, to belong then to prove it.”
“How will you prove it?”
“By being the change.”
“You may leave … If you take him with you … He’s stuck here too.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“It is … You can only leave if you give something in return.”
“You mean a sacrifice?!”
“Indeed, both of your spirits can leave in one body, the other should be given in return to be a running river for this world to feed on.”
“Two souls in one body? How!”
“It can be done. I suggest you go back with the boy’s body … You’ll be younger and have more memories to make.”
“As long as my life takes its course …”
The wise man brought out a bubble of colour from a box and placed it into the man’s chest. A great staircase of light cut its way up to the sky and the man’s soul flew with the child and they merged together.

The boy woke up with two different personalities that talk to each other, sometimes each soul would try to force itself to block the other … It’s almost like taking turns. They both never agree and sometimes the man slaps the child. He grew up known as the crazy boy who was feared by everyone and approached by none and it was not a life that he had, that walking dead. They burnt the chest together with the mirror melting inside and have never looked in a mirror ever again.

The killer and the thief

I went through the trees to see an empty house, the door was opened yet light refused to go in. I wondered what lays in the depth of the darkness. My grandmother says that the darkness is made by a crowd of dark souls … Now why are they all trapped inside?

I got in and suddenly I was the light and I saw my path written by my fate. The sound of music came to my heart then to my ears and it was nothing like I have ever heard before. The music pulled me in to a room where a devil plays a violin.

“Child, come inside. Stop hiding yourself with that light.”
“I thought darkness hides and deceives and truth shines in the light.”
“Darkness reveals our true souls, unaffected with the beauty of the skin and it lets you see your fears that were absent in the light.”
“I can see your face … It’s nothing I would want to see. Your eyes are wiped out like pencil tracks on paper and you’re darker than this darkness!”
“Didn’t you see the beauty in my sounds? Free me from my prison and I shall give you my wings.”

“What will those wings give me?”
“You will be able to travel in a blink, I will give you a position in our kingdom and you will be the last human to die.”
“Why would I want to be the last and lose my loved ones?”
“I will give you a book and inside you will find all of the answers.”
“Where is the key then?”
“That, you must find out on your own.”
“Who locked you in?”
He ignored to play the violin again …

She went out to see … Where is the key?
She stepped on pain and she cried in agony …
It was a room of thorns placed to kill but not the virgins and in the very end shines a rose that was one of a kind. She wanted it like a baby wants his bottle of milk and she stepped on every thorn there was to reach the rose that was worth the trouble. Then she had to walk out and that was worse.

The rose spoke to the little one …
“Don’t fall for the wings! He eats the virgin girls! My prince locked him in so he can’t steal the children anymore.”
“He promised me things and he plays poetic music … How can something evil be so beautiful?”
“I am responsible for the spring … If you don’t put me back all of the roses will die! There will be just the cold winter and the dead autumn.”
“Be quiet.”

She came into the next room to see an old pale woman was combing her long white hair while she was mumbling and laughing by her own.
She had one look at the girl with her red eyes and flew to her as fast as a hunting hawk who went for his prey. The girl froze in fear and the old woman jumped on her forcing her to obey and hold still. A necklace was hanging from her wrinkled neck and it was pointing at the girl’s mouth.
“You’ll be a better dinner … I’ll stuff you first with onions then I’ll cook you with my herbs, then …” She grabbed the necklace and ran as fast as her legs could. “COME BACK WITH MY HEART!!!”

The old woman couldn’t leave the room and that was a relief.
“I wonder what I’ll get my hands on next … What if I tied the necklace on the rose?” She did exactly that then they flew and she went to catch them.
They dropped suddenly on the ground and it was the sound that broke the silence … Suddenly a grand coffin started to shake and someone came out. It was a handsome prince!

“Thank you for setting me free … How can I repay you?”
“I … I was trying to free the poor demon in the prison.”
“I will set him free if you marry me.”
“Yes! I do.”

The birds flew from every window, light finally came in … Beautiful servants carried the wedding dress, the place turned into a garden of colours, the rose turned into a crown and the necklace into a ring.

They kissed after the marriage vows then the place faded away …
It was the demon himself … His way out of the prison was through the coffin and his way out of the house was a bride that will fall for the spell of beauty.
He smiled at her with his ugly face, the crown turned into dust then nature died and now she is the devil’s wife in a portrait of washed off brown, grey and pale death with no wings to escape.

A letter

My forbidden fear,

I thirst to have your soul into mine and let the soulless emerge satisfy my needs. The way you act makes me feel that you are the reaper and I am the victim and this change makes me feel alive enough to happily murder.

I am not worthy of you and I hate it, for I am the rotten apple that fell for Adam to sin on and you are my heaven. The devastating purity that lays in your heart makes me want to rip it out with my bare loving hands.

I do not deserve the kindness you have to give. You, on the other hand, deserve the fire you lit in my cold body. I shall bathe in your warm blood when the time is right and that is a promise for a lover to keep.

You think I hate you because I ignore you, or is it because of my dirty looks that I give you sometimes? I look at you like that because you are above me and that admiration is killing me. The truth makes me want to curl in a corner and weep my nightmares out but I will be your best nightmare instead.

-The immortal death, your loving angel.

The grey one meets grey

I was having a horrible nightmare about a mad clown who slashed his victim’s mouth from ear to ear … He said she has never smiled before and she needed it. I was woken up by the temperature in the room … It was so cold that my feet almost went blue. I woke up breathing out vapour as if it’s winter … On the edge of my bed there sits a grey troubled soul … He was a figure which took a man’s form with his head looking down.

I tried to talk with him and ask what was wrong. Yes, to talk, “Making contact” is a sentence I hate in horror movies. As if they are not like us … They feel and think. Yes they are beyond in another world under ours but they are around too. He took a look at me and faded into thin air. I wished to see him again … What was his name? Why is he in misery? I want to be a good friend and listen … Or am I in love?

I have always been curious and drawn to mystery. We shared a room together anyway, yes just because I own a piece of land on paper that doesn’t make it mine. They were here before us and we took over their world … This was his room before it was mine and he is kind enough to share it. Sometimes I see his diary next to my pillow, a language I can not understand. It looks Arabic but somehow in reverse, I’m not sure.

He’s not the only one I see, but he is the only one who is grey. I always wonder if the ones living in homes with us are different than those who live in seas, remains and near the graves. I have met some unpleasant creatures; half a goat, impossible to catch, their children, the deformed one who has a story of his own.

He, on the other hand, is more closer to my heart. He has a story that I want and he left me all alone. I am going on a mission to the ancient world beneath ours, of course I have to take permission from their king to get in and out. I shall make a deal with the witch who lives next door, I have a book that she wants and she knows how to summon kings and the retinue, she is well connected.

I wonder if the king will allow me to come back again if I knew too much … Will I find him? Will he tell me his story? Will my journey be unexpected and deadly? I must take this adventure even if I have to travel by spirit and leave my rotten body on this bed of mine. It is worth all the trouble. You will not understand … Not until the veil is removed; a curse yet a blessing. Our existence is metaphysical and beyond the human mind’s limitations, that is what you normal people need to know. Till then, see you …. Maybe.

The falling and the rising

Words are sculptured from stones and emotions are expressed from roses, yet the meaning is lost in the falling rivers of hell. How can I tell the long night about my nothings? Shall I sing and be heard through the broken lock? What a rusty voice … I have been silenced for a long time by the scratches in the walls.

The crying child inside my eyes, whose wrists are suffocating from chains, can be heard and so is the old broken lady who is melting in the boiling blood in vain. My hollow soul splashes in grey and as it rains sorrows I choose to feel nothing. How can I write about nightmares that begin with a creak?

How can I tell stories about the evil eye watching me through that keyhole like a circus freak? Dark smoke flows in the pupils of my eyes staring back at me in that mirror which draws me into my fading self. Pain peaks, pain smoothly slips on his toes through the cracks like a diamond thief. My demons are playing music in the ruins and it’s keeping me tamed as heat escapes along with those frozen emotions whom I blame.

I hear crashes waking up the sleep and I see flying ashes making screaming faces at me. The numbers are escaping the clock running away towards infinity and the shadows whom I used to hunt are haunting me. The sky made firestorms of insanity which are ripping my house up and breaking it down. I stood alone and wept until the Phoenix emerged and gave perfervid love to my beginning.