kristen || we all have a dream, maybe
There is an American woman who lives in Ibri who seems to basically be part of the town’s lore. Everyone knows of her but no one seems to know many specific details about her life. She is American and a convert to Islam and has lived in Ibri for over 20 years. She is married to an Omani man, wears a niqab, and speaks Omani dialect fluently. I met her today and found out her family is originally from Bloomington, Indiana and one of her sons (who grew up in Ibri) is a student at the University of Kentucky. Wtf are the chances, i am like in awe of how small the world is
a desert wind whispers to us:
“the land is greedy. the land will not repent.”
at night, once-hopeful mothers weep for children lost
winding through dunes of sand,
tumbling down hills of stone,
toward some unknown-
at dawn you can begin to see the edge of the desert
but there is no sight or sound of life.
we can feel ourselves being enveloped by something
dangerous, something painful.
suffocating our entire bodies.
we do not know yet that this is because
the truth is more powerful than our fear.
the wind taps my shoulder and says,
“do you understand now? the feeling?
like something is dying inside of you?”
i stare toward the void and the rays of sun pierce my eyes.
sweat develops around my hairline, slowly coats my face
i feel my head pulsating
thoughts wandering with the children,
wondering with the mothers-
w h e r e
a r e
y o u ?
they say this place used to be an oasis.
harsh sun softened by encroaching darkness
and passing time,
replaced by ethereal crescent moon
a reminder of what-we-gave-up
a reminder of what-we-have-still
reminder of
you,
knowledge that you can look toward the same moon
and that one day soon
it will be full.
— Tayeb Salih, “A Letter to Eileen”
realized while i was crying
while listening to busman’s holiday
in oman
that i am the only person in the world
to have ever been in that position, exactly.
when i was four i wished on a dandelion that i would be a princess, but my grandfather is the only person in the world who ever called me one. it’s hard to imagine my family without him, but 82 years of life and 60 years of marriage is definitely something to be thankful for. rest in peace ❤️
time is a construct, you say to make me feel better
dog, work, me, you, constructs too
and home is a construct but that doesn’t make it less real
staying or leaving may be the same but it’s still a choice
everything has to end sometime
we are constantly searching for clues to figure out what time is ‘sometime’
as if there is some objective truth
alice reminds me every fifteen minutes how much time has passed
until today, i did not realize how quickly time was passing,
how ruthlessly it would leave us behind,
but somehow i still have trouble waking up
if i could set an alarm for 'sometime’ i would probably press the snooze button
if i could i would press the snooze button in may and wake up when a decision was made for me
but maybe my phone would die and i guess i would too
i’m sorry that my biotin vitamins have gelatin in them
but i think growth is more important to me than animal bones
until today, our hair was growing long together
but everything has to end sometime
unless it doesn’t
