Hope

With Faith, everything's going my way.
Al-hamdu lillah.

Sometimes life is...

like a Bollywood movie...

When the hero and the heroine go through many trials and tribulations and then finally find themselves in the arms of each other as they were both looking for each other.

It was the magic of Ramadhan, the magic of us.

A living fairy-tale.

Something so precious born out of V.G. must be definitely, with no doubt, maktoub, written.

Bahebbak ya habibi,

I love you my baby.

The pic is copyrighted @ Outlandish www.outlandmoro.con

Start over.

I spent 38 days away from all the madness. Away from myself.
Last 26th of August marked a year since I have been cursed by the injustice I have been a victim of, and it's not over; I can't believe I haven't been locked yet, really, I'm not depressed, I am angry at everything and everyone.
Tomorrow I believe I'm gonna quit my job, which is not a job, I had an offer I can't refuse, but it will take some months...I don't know why I should keep that job where I gain nothing and I spend more than I gain for transportations.
I smoke heavily, cigarettes are becoming my friends, they keep me from crying, Oh God I am becoming an addict!
I have always been the good one, and for that I have been abused, not that I can't speak my mind or demand my rights (which my situation denies me anyway) I just always tried to help the needy...but I am fucking tired of giving a finger and seeing them taking my whole arm!
I have been interrupted, God knows how I know the meaning of "girl, interrupted" by now!
Why don't I have a restoring Cd which will free my brain from all the spam? Why can't I throw away my dead battery and buy a new one?
The Lady of Shalott in me is screaming to escape the tower and be free?
Will I ever let her?
Or, since it doesn't depend on me, will they let her?
And when I am free, will I survive or will I be cursed again?
The chains of injustice hurt my heart and soul, the tower of denied rights is suffocating me, the river of broken faith and trust is so cold and stormy.


It's not me, it's the borderline.


Let me live by this sweet lie, so that I know I'm just broken and it's not my fault. Why can't I react this time?
And where are you now?
You look for me like I am the key to life...then you disappoint me with your fears.
Somebody wants me to hate you.
Show them why I can't.
Please.

Time to go.

I'm going to run away from my job soon. Maybe I won't even wait for the end of June.
Why?
Because that enviroment is fucking rotten! I can't believe the new game we had there! We will all, willing or not, be judged for the way we dress everyday, the one that wins more for some weeks will gain extra 100 euros. This is disgusting, I'm just not going to take this challenge because it is my brain that counts, not the money I can spend on clothes.
I can't be part of that plastic enviroment anymore.
Hopefully I'm also gonna be innocent and free in few days, so "Hello world"!
No more Shalott complex for sometimes...or so I wish.
But I keep on saying to myself: "Welcome to Italy, baby!"; I'm not even shocked anymore when I realize each day how much of a materialist country Italy has become.
And God, I so wished, when I started this career as an alternative option to the path I wasn't allowed to pursue because of the injustice I suffered from (which I'll be free from in few days), that this job was about activism...instead is just plain marketing, and it's for happy people who smile so much they conquer the audience, and for women who like flirting. I'm not a smiley girl and most of all I'm not a flirty one.
I'm fucking shy, I don't show off my body, I don't flirt with men...why the hell did I happen to get that job? Was I brainwashed?
But I'm pretty disgusted about how women and girls are becoming here. The average italian girl is a almost-naked, smiley, flirty one who'll do everything for the money, and gets all the best jobs even if she's not educated for them.

And what about us? Poor, educated women with dignity and integrity? Who rely on our brain and skills rather than provocative clothing or captivating smiles? This country must give us the credit we need. We can't be voiceless. We need our space.

Lyrics Time

Pray for me

If you want to

Pray for me

If you care

Pray for me

If you want to

Pray for meIf you dare

Pray for meIf you want to

Pray for meIf you care

Pray for meIf you want to

Pray for me you fucker

If you fucking dare

Though, you're not a fucker, but the sweetest thing to me, through it all...

Fed Up

I'm tired of struggling to be happy.
I'm tired of struggling to keep those few things which make me happy.
I'm tired of being constantly tested.
I'm tired of my job and I fucking miss the old one.
I'm tired of your insecurity, darling: if you love me stop testing me.
I'm tired of O.c.d.
I'm of tired of B.d.p.
I'm tired of sleepless nights.
I'm tired of studying, in Italy it gets you nowhere.
I'm tired of my heart which is too good.
I'm tired of paranoias.
I'm tired of crazy dreams.
I'm tired of jealous people.
I'm tired of being tired.
I'm tired of tears.
I'm tired of waiting for happiness to come.
I'm tired of waiting for calm to come.
I'm tired of fear, concrete or non-existent.
I'm tired of obsessions.
I'm fucking tired of myself.

Almost Midnight's Rant

I really need to talk, to express myself, to scream myself.

And I feel fucking lonely right now, I don't even know where to start, I'm confusing reality and fake perception and I fucking know it's Borderline knocking on my mind's door. I didn't ask to be the sad girl, to be the mad girl and I don't know why I keep having this issues running around my head. I'll loose my dignity to the disorder that oppresses me. I don't know where to start there's a long long story of crazyness going on.
There had been a time where I was very antisocial and lonely and yet I would feel at ease with myself, alone in my room with my books and my music I was satisfied I was missing something but I wasn't suffering. I don't wanna go back to that world where I was a lonely girl living in a fantastic reality made of fake dreams. I fucking wanna love and be among people. But I need it to be healthy. No more prooves please, just try to be you and I'll try to be me.
Destructive behaviour is taking me over. I want to eat like I'm never full, I want to drink to forget myself, I want to smoke to forget about eating and drinking. I don't feel like cutting, yet, I already have to many scars...to many people is wondering where I got them.
Can't it be simple for a while?
Can I breath for a while?
I can't find answers...and you're not trying to answer my questions.
Every day is like a fucking proof I am worth it, I swear I have dignity but I am plain sad and I lack courage to go on, one day I smile one day I cry, all because of you my bipolar love. Wallahi I'll never leave you but I hope you'll understand I am unstable too, I need you to stay strong for me like I am staying strong for you. Don't test me anymore, you know that I am with you, I am just asking to stop testing my love. I adore for all that you are, I don't care if you're mad, you're my hero baby, you're my true love...the only one I could ever love.
One day you fly me to the Moon, one day you drag me to hell, than you tell me you're sorry and you missed me, you missed my hug, my kiss. Honey we are made for each other...it's only a challenge with life.

It's all in my head

Lately I have felt strange in my skin. Like I am too different twins with two different personalities: one is thoughtful, ambitious, guided by faith, self-confident about her worth, hard-working and one is a screaming sort of borderline, sometimes atheist mad person who's struggling against her mind.
And I wonder how much will I resist to this.
I want to grow beautifully and fulfill what I am meant to be.
I want to feel confortable with myself.
I want to feel at ease with my brain.
Questions flow through my mind like an ocean, I am delighted by my good face and frightened by bad one.
I need to feel good.
I need to let my obsessive thoughts fade away as easily as they come, remembering it's just my mind playing with my biggest fears.
I need to understand that thoughts are intrusive and caused by fears.
Empowerment is the key, I know I am stronger than my fears.

Oh...

I can't believe what has been happening lately...
Will someone do something for them please?
Is it possible to leave a population alone in the hands of a dirty oppressor?

Old

Birthdays (tomorrow is mine) are only here to remember that time runs and it's not waiting for you. And this is scary because I feel like I haven't accomplished anything and I am scared about falling like a castle made of cards.
I feel worried about losing time, I'm in my twenties but I feel older and I need to escape all those troubles, the only gift I crave is an easy life for me, my family and my boyfriend. Can't life be easy for once? Can't the rainbow replace the raining cloud above our heads? Is it so difficult?

...

I am trying to feel like I am an abstract entity.
So that I can't feel those who hurt me.
I want to stop breathing,
just for a while.
I want to forget that I am alive,
just for a moment.
I want just an emotionless second,
where my mind's sufferings
don't feel me with pain.
It's not right that some people are born with angst in their veins.
With pain in their heart.
It's not fucking right
to be born sensitive
and harmless.
I feel deadly,
yet I am harmless.
I say words I don't mean,
I think things I don't think,
I feel the madness overcoming me slowly
And I can't do anything.

...

What have I done?
Where am I going?
Where am I leading?
If you care,
follow me.
If you're brave enough,
run with me.

Love, Ti Amo

I love.

Like I never loved before.

It's all fresh and new.

And even though he's my hero,

I still fear for him so much,

I want to protect him.

I want to save him from whatever comes his way.

Why does such a beautiful soul have to bear all this?

Why can't things be easy for us for once?

I have this costant fear for us.

I pray, Lord knows how much I pray.

I feel lost in my emotions and fears.

I feel brave yet I feel scared.

I want to save us.

I want to save me.

I don't want to be the interrupted girl anymore.

I want to let my madness float away.

I want to start creating and building.

Lord, give me the strenght to bear this sensitiveness of mine.

Give the strenght to face the closed doors with a smile.

Give the strenght to be sure about myself.

Let the obsessive thought go away easily as they come.

Let depression stop choking my brain before it's too late.

I love so hard.

I want to love and to be loved by him forever.

Bless our path, ya Allah.

I defy U

I can't change, it's obvious I can't change. So don't try to change me, it is a pointless pursuit, I like being odd and an outcast, I like it when I feel different from everyone, I like it when I am out of fashion and I still believe in ideals.
I can't stand my job anymore, I thought it was about activism, about raising awareness about important causes instead it's merely, purely about marketing, and my strong opinions and belief can't be sold, they must improve and raise. I can't work there anymore, especially because I am an humanitarian, not a vendor. I miss my old job, even though my co workers hated me because I wasn't racist and actually helped the refugees and, most of all, because I am Muslim. Hopefully, I'll get the job back when my revenge will be done and I'll be finally the innocent. Because I AM the innocent.
I'm mentally tired and emotionally drained. I am starting to feel like I am paranoid but I am afraid there's a conspiracy behind my back...if not, bad luck exists. Really.
I hate my job, I know so well about the causes we work for and I have less success because I am professional, I dress modestly, I don't flirt with men nor with the boss and coworkers, so I get less people into the refugees' cause. But I helped so many refugees I know and I am the one who knows better about them. And I love someone who's somewhat one of them.

Question is:

Am I wrong, or is Italy wrong?

Because I am trying to fit in a country who's mine but doesn't accept me being me. I don't have equal opportuinities as other women because I depend on my brain and my heart and not on my body. And that's the sad truth about the country of the sun, women who are objects have more success then women who have opinions and talents. The only people I get into the refugees' causes are strong, committed, feminist women who are like me. They like me and they trust me. And God, I am so proud of them. Who cares if I get few subscriptions, I have high quality ones. They'll help the refugees forever, not just few months.
So why would I change?
I'll never change. I won't.
I am happy with my odd self. I enjoy my strange side.
I'll raise above one day, and will have the job I deserve. Then I'll make peace with my country: when I'll be respected for what I am, when my rights won't be denied, when I'll be able to breath...

Sweet revenge

I made myself a promise:
That I will get revenge.
I won't let my enemies win,
I'll stand up for my priorities,
They will not tear me down,
They will not cut my wings,
They will not shut my voice.
I'll fight for my rights,
I'll fight for my love,
I'll fight for my beliefs.
Nobody can clip my invisible fairy wings.
Nobody will take away my power.
Nobody will stop me.
I'm not afraid,
I'm not scared,
I'm not escaping.
I'll face this ugly world,
With strenght on my side,
With courage in my heart.
I made a promise,
I'll make it,
I won't break it.
They tried to hurt me,
Allah, they tried to break me,
They tried to chain me.
I'm not letting them win,
Wallahi I'll make it.
They laugh against me,
They look at me with evil eyes,
They insult me with their racist oppression.
But I smile inside,
Knowing I'll make it at the end of this trial,
Knowing that we'll be happy togheter, with our beloved families.
I defy their obsolete laws,
I'll raise against their racist system
I'll protect my precious beloved one from them.
I'm the good soldier,
The one who defies the army in order to help the oppressed,
So I am hated.
Throw your stones,
If you think your sinless,
I'm not scared of your inquisition,
My love and my soul are my armour and shield.
My conscience shines protecting me from you, my legs are my horse who will run for justice.
My heart is my sword and my brain is my helmet.
Prepare the next battle,
War is open,
Dark is your thrill of war,
Shining is my sword.

I'll never change

I'm tired of those who believe I should wear a miniskirt in order to be more successful at work,
I am spreading the cause of refugees', not selling myself.
And I don't want to show off my body, which is too precious to be seen by someone who's not my man.
And call me puritan, who cares,
I'd rather gain less than selling myself.

And no, I am not ashamed of my body,
I do love it,
Love it so much I'll only show it to that amazing man I call habibi, my love.
Only he will see my legs.
So don't try to change me.

Don't look at me like I'm oppressed,
by a religion
it's my own choice.

Burning...exploding.

I have been neglecting this diary for almost twenty days.
Life has been spinning around like crazy with all its ups and donws.

I had periods of intense, special joy.

But:

Contraddicting what I wrote in the last post, my work place is hell, again everybody against each talking behind their backs and backstabbing, jelousy and so on. Your average italian work place.

And, oh, I've been to the courthouse, trying to defeat that little man who tried to destroy me and who's still trying to take advantage of me. I won the law suit, anyway, it makes me angry that he's trying to be the victim. I'll never forget his emotional abuse...he'll never win.

And I am scared, because of someone I adore who's suffering from depression and extreme insecurity, throwing it all at me.

I don't know how strong I am anymore...I'm scared of being cursed.

I just feel tranquillity for once.

I just wanna be carefree for once.

I can't stand stress anymore...I'm juggling with all these issue while walking on a ball, and my body is feeling the consequences, I lost weight and today I have such a high temperature...it's like my stress exploded after burning inside of me.

I'm scared of curse.

Me

I have been working really hard these two weeks, but I managed to gain a promotion so that I'll be able to teach other people about how to work like me. It's good to work in a place where you go on because you know what to do and not because someone made you.
It's a great enviroment, and we are only very connected with the humanitarian causes we represent. It's a great way to help and spread the word about refugees causes.

My relationship with my love is growing stronger and stronger. I am very blessed.
It's good to have someone so strong, inspiring and good by side, he really heals me with his words (as I was writing this he called me saying that he was doing his salat* thanking God for our love, that's amazing, and cute), he enjoys my feminism and loves the fact that I am growing up as a conscious woman, for the first time in my life I know what it means to be loved. It's an empowering, overwhelming feeling. It's pure bliss.

*For those who don't know, salat is the Muslim prayer (five times a day).

Happiness is:

Seeing you smiling,

us laughing hard after hard times

yelling "Aomde, we made it".

My hero.

Habibi made it.
Habibi is so strong.
Habibi (which means my love), my boyfriend, won against all the bad things that were done to him.
Yes.
Wow.
Al-hamdu lillah.
It's so good to smile and laugh and be relieved in each other arms knowing that God stood by our side.
That center didn't take away is dignity, he's a great man and I am the great woman behind him.
I've got no words to describe this joy.
I just believe that my renewed faith is giving me so much strenght and true courage.
I am not the lawyer of lost causes anymore, I am speeding car on the road to spread my word.
The road to justice,
the road to human rights.
Evil, you can't win.
Remember this next time, you ugly-hearted people from V.G.

From Depression To Anger

I witnessed an other racist stance from my ex-co-workers.
Again, against a Muslim person I am close to.
I used to cry to let the stress go and react but I am so worried and desperate I don't manage to cry even though my heart cries non-stop since Monday. I am driven by anger, and my spirit of revenge is raising.
My body is full of energy and wills to move, I walk miles everyday to spread the word of refugees causes and my mind is focused on helping them.
But my heart cries, because while the common people is willing to help us, people on power is oppressing my Muslim people, my Muslim refugees.
Gaza. Kabul. Urfa. Baghdad. Moghadiscio. All this cities already bear so much pain, why do they have to be treated as inferiors in here? Why do our refugees centers leave the Muslim refugees alone?
And why are they voiceless? Why am I voiceless?
My new job saves them at home, but here?
Who'll save them?

I wish I could find a way to cry but the fear of breakdown is huge. I wish my renewed faith will get me through.
The crimes I witness are playing tricks on my mind, revenge runs in my vains but scary thoghts run in my head.

A Prayer

God,

Allah,

I have been the worst believer,

but you gave an other chance,

so please,

save the happy ending.

I need that to carry on,

with the mission I'm on,

You provided me this happiness,

I know You won't take my joy away.

Please let the solution come,

I know You won't leave us,

for You know we'll always be thankful.

Please,

You're great,

Allahu akbar,

don't let those evil ones do their evil plot against us.

Please.

I'll be right there for my mission.

But I need this life to keep it.

I know You'll be there for us.

Lyrics Time

Evil, don't you test me

Evil, you won't win

(Erykah Badu - Penintetiary Philosophy)

Anniversary

Six months ago, the best love story ever started.
I'm so grateful he's still here by my side, fighting to create our own personal corner on Earth.
This love was maktub - written - from above.
The very moment I first saw his beautiful eyes I knew he was mine, and he knew the same with my eyes.
I'm so thankful for this guy who's so strong and patient.
Al hamdu lillah ana 'endi habibi.
(Thank God I have my beloved one).
He has the power to make me better.
My hero.
My warrior.
My angel.
I want then of thousand of millions and millions and millions of years with him.
I want to have his children.
I want to fill his life with love like he does to me.
When I hug him I feel like the sweetest things on Earth are mine.
And when I kiss him I feel heavenly.
Ayo. sings:
"I never felt so deep in love,
I never been so close to God".
That's how I feel.
My faith in God is stronger,
because such an amazing love must have been created from Him.

I blame it on the nuns for this troubled mind I have. But now I am recovering. Thanks to my love.

20 years sinking slowly sings my beloved Emilie,
that's all my soul had to bear,
since I entered that elementary school my soul started to decay,
I've opened the windows to how the world goes,
nobody cares if you suffer.
I can't forget that big list of "sins",
from watching tv, to see someone kissing in the streets,
passing through collecting stickers.
We were demons in their eyes,
and there my o.c.d. started,
I felt like I was cursed. I felt like I was already damned.
I was with Satan they said, because I liked to be alone, because I had dreams outside of a kitchen and a church.
Because I preferred to write my scary thoughts, istead of play the "Days of the week game",
because I invented stories of solitude and creepy enviroments I was the witch.
I am a sinner.
I was 7 and already a sinner.
Sinner because I have a fucking aching heart, and I am fucking sensitive.
Sinner because I was raised a feminist.
Sinner because I am empowered.
I am still waiting for the darkness to come and make me blind because I watched "Beverly Hills 90210".
And I am still waiting for the devil to tell me that I am him.
Tuth is I am still waiting for Jesus to tell me He's Muslim and I am right.
There's that song from Alanis who says:
"I never forgot it, confusing as it was
No fun with no guilt feelings
The sinners, the saviors, the loverless priests
I'll see you next Sunday"
Yeah being on Church was the only salvation for us, who were sinners.
Fun was sin.
Laughter was sin
I had lon, long hair...my sin? Vanity
Yes, 1990 like Jane Eyre.
I'm lucky they didn't get me bald.
The fact that I had a lot colorful pencil meant that I was greedy.
That fact that my parents provided me a lot of food for lunch break meant that I was spoiled.
(They always walked with broken shoes to provide our food, even now).
Nuns told me I was too much considered a princess by them.
That was greed.
The fact that I dreamt of helping people without being a nun made me the least humble people ever.
The fact that they couldn't brainwash me was a proof I had Satan on my shoulder.

Yes, I am probably troubled for this.
I volunteered at a Christian center and I have seen it all again.
I worked, when I was already closer to Islam, in a refugees center led by Christian and I have see un-educated idiots playing with other people's lives.
Mocking their culture,
confusing my innate modesty with submission.

You know what my revenge is?
Seeing my love, my Muslim Palestinian love, walking, running, playing soccer after they said his leg coudn't walk anymore.
That's all that what fills my heart.
Habibi is so strong, my boyfriend is my undestructible hero,
that's why he's bringing me faith, courage and wisdom again.
When I says he loves Jesus because Muhammad (pbuh) thaught him to, and Jesus is not the bad guy nuns and priests told me about.
That's why I'll say
أشهد أن لا إله إلا الله وأشهد أن محمد رسول الله

Love 2

For the first time I held you in my arms while you're were sleeping, even though you said you were pretending to, you looked like an angel, handsome and sweet.
The innocence of that moment was so perfect, God bless this moment.

I don't ask a lot of thing for this new year, just have my family, dog and you forever. Healthy and happy.

Bahabbak ya habibi.
Wa shukran, inta hadiah min Allah.