I am an Anglo-Moroccan Muslimah who loves languages, books, tea and Islam.
This here is a collection of all (read some of) my random musings and interesting finds.
Some days, I’m good. The sun is setting and the clouds are on fire, and it’s stunning, sublime. I suck in the air and let its coolness pierce me, I feel alive with the sense of my own insignificance - Ya Allah! The red bleeds into plum which bleeds into black and blue. Listen to the whisper of Jamal.
Other days, I wonder… Is that setting sun as melancholy for him as it is for me? I allow my mind to wander the wastelands, deep within. I never knew this side of the heart could feel so dark and ragged. Ya Latif…
I don’t linger long here. It still hurts and I grasp at the sun’s dying rays, longing to smooth those edges with warmth and hope.
Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.
And when it doesn’t I remind myself that that’s ok. It might be painful but pain isn’t always a bad thing. Let me learn through Jalal.
So whilst winter nights are long, remember the dawn will always come.
"Say: I seek refuge in the Lord of the Dawn."
They collided together.
They drift apart.
Always second guessing myself.
I don’t even know if what I’ve done is the right thing anymore…
she’s awesome!!Isn’t she just? (Masha’Allah 3liha.)
Lmao Mouna you actually made this post! I can now comfortably attest of your atay pouring skills Thing is, I’m now tempted to make a post saying “I’m Mouna and I actually created seinedoll.”Haha, of course I did! And if you do make such a post, am I supposed to reply (to keep up the pretense)? We’d be screwing up the kind people who bother to look at our blogs way too much.
I can now vouch for the realness of seinedoll.
She is definitely real.
Zeineb. Is. Real. :)
P.S. Salam alaikum/Peace be upon you, new followers!
Not sure why you followed a half-dead blog. I’ve really been out of it the past couple of weeks.
Forgive. Forgive. Forgive.
I see you there, pulling along the heavy weight that is your self.
I see you trying to suck up the pain and hurt you feel at your perceived failings.
Don’t beat yourself up about it. Life is going on; it has and will continue to do so. Keep trying. Keep striving.
Do beat your self up though. Slay it with salawat.
Sure, ‘you’ keep slipping, stumbling along this path. Sure, ‘you’ thought this would be all sunshine, smiles and spiritual highs. Perhaps ‘you’ thought that they would help you along, that he would help you along. Good thing this isn’t about ‘you’ or ‘them’ or ‘him’.
Keep knocking at that door because those words are “the Opener of that which was closed”.
The skies are blue but there are storms within you. Lightning and thunder that shock and shudder your innermost being. It’s painful but you are growing, even if you feel you’re not.
But only by and with God’s grace.
Allahumma salli ‘ala Sayyidina Muhammad, al Fatihi lima ughliqa, wal Khatimi lima sabaq, Nassiril Haqqi bil Haqq, wal Hadi ila siraatikal mustaqeem, wa ‘ala aalihi haqqa qadrihi wa miqdarihil ‘adheem.
Awww dear Tumblr, how I have neglected thee…