Queen Sakina's Journal: Personal Life

Showing posts with label Personal Life. Show all posts

Airs and Graces: Types of Contact

Social interactions are interesting. At reunions, people act one of three ways.

1. Speak when spoken to.

2. Act themselves.

3. Put up a glass exterior, filled wit politeness and distance.

I would say that I fit in the first of the three, only speaking when someone else enquires, and even then, mostly about them and never about me.
I wonder which of the routes is the best philosophy for life; to be true to yourself or to use a facade. There are times when I've seen both used successfully, but they balance the scales equally in my mind. I hesitate to choose a victor.

This entry comes after a family dinner, but after a week of contemplating on my distinct lack of social graces. I need to focus on honing my social skills, plain and simple. At one point I was on top of it all, but now I feel my skills have dwindled away..

I just wish I knew where to begin.

The Monster Within

Forgiveness is a complicated concept. I'm not unforgiving, and yet, I'm one to hold a grudge. A lot of things are condemned by my examining eye, but only a few poignant specific "crossed the line" moments nudge me from my usual cool collected patient demeanour to one who is subject to fiery rage and anger. I'm not one to loose my cool, it's the patient side of me that forgives the little misgivings you or someone else may hold. And yet, after a moments pause, a delicate feather on the scales may swing my patience and composed nature skyrocketing down into oblivion. It was the straw that broke the camels back, that causes my burning rage to consume me, a build up of tiny flakes that become the avalanche of my emotions.

Much to the surprise of those unsuspecting, there are wild fiery passionate emotions that burn within my soul, waiting to be tapped and released, but my patience and rationality, combined with paranoia, conceals them deep, hiding them under layers of sand like a forbidden treasure chest of passion.

Rage is a terrible thing, once unleashed it clouds all other judgements, yet the same can be said of lust, desire and pain. Of love. The trade-off for tying up the beast of rage in order to remain composed and rational, is to forbid all strong burning emotions from breathing, suffocating them within.

Sometimes I wonder whether the trade-off is worth it, whether there should be no fear from being true to your emotions, not concealing them with an air of calm complacency. But then I remember anger, and rage. And wonder whether the trade-off is favourable after all.

British Museum!

If you are anything like me, the prospect of a summer where free-time is in abundance, and a distinct burning passion for the Ancient Egyptians, then the prospect of a visit to the British Museum is the most amazing idea yet!

With the help of my handy camera, I have decided to share ~~all 400~~ a sample of my most beautiful photographs with you!

The British Museum!

When first arriving at the museum, I was astonished at just how busy the museum appeared to be, with an abundance of tourists on the museum grounds, it made me wonder just how busy the interior would be!

Religion and Ritual small pieces.

The first sign of Ancient Egypt, a burning, scorching, obsessive passion of mine, was of a small set of humble pieces, that sat there idle, looking dusty and dull. These proud artefacts from millennia gone by lacked the vibrancy and colour that I had honestly initially expected, but their sheer age and symbolic nature exceeded any short-comings, and this was just a taste of what was to come!

Ptolemy I - Great General of Alexander the Great

The first magnificent bust of a highly esteemed Egyptian was this quite simplistic statue of Ptolemy I, a Great General who served Alexander the Great and influenced Egyptian society greatly. What struck me about the bust, was not only the simplicity of it's design, but the symbolic nature this creates. His body is strong and sturdy, his features cleanly drawn but friendly, and his headdress prominent and bold. All these features spark a great deal of interest from me, my imagination gallivanting, as much as I yearned to stand gaping, admiring the piece in a spaced-out vacant manner, I could feel the next piece calling me, wanting my attention. So I moved on.

Courtyard Architecture!

After diverting away from the exhibition room I made my way into the courtyard, nice and airy with marble flooring. The cool airy nature of the courtyard was a strike contrast to the escalating summer temperatures outside!

Amenhotep III - Pharaoh of Egypt

It was then that I saw a doorway, and beside it was the bold and big statue, guarding the doorway, serving as a hint to what treasures we may find inside!

Fragment of the Rosetta Stone

The moment I left the cool marble courtyard and entered the doorway into what I can only describe as an Ancient Egyptian cave of wonders, I was immediately drawn to an item that hid behind crowds of people, each desperately trying to see this most precious of items!

Once I spotted a gap in the crowd, I squeezed myself in and to my astonishment, was met by a cold black slab, inscribed in a third hieroglyphics, a third demotic, and a third Ancient Greek. This was the infamous Rosetta Stone, a gem in archeological history, standing firm in a cage of glass surrounded by people eager to read it's inscription. With a quick snap of the piece, I rushed out of the crowd and my heart inflated like a balloon with helium, and tears began to reach my eyes, as I witnessed the wide array of Egyptian artefacts that prominently decorated the room.

The variety of the exhibition was immense, with grand and carefully engraved mighty columns,

Slabs of carefully inscribed hieroglyphic text, simple and bold, recording history for it's readers,

to prayers painstakingly engraved around thick strong tomb walls, designed to shelter the greatest of greats from the torments of the afterlife,

Ramesses II - Ramesses the Great

to the bust of the king of all kings, Pharaoh of all Pharaohs, greatest and most highly regarded leaders of his era, Ramesses the Great, who's gigantic bust towered over all others, and who's presence inspired outpourings of honour and high regards, even to this day. So high is his influence and reputation, this ancient ruler from years gone by receives royal dignitaries greeting him when his mummy travels to foreign lands, and poets who sing his name in their works!

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

[Percy Bysshe Shelley]

The legend that is Ramesses the Great, or Ramesses II as he was formerly known, was my most sought after item in the entire exhibit, to see an image of the great man.. after seeing this bust I felt there was only one more thing to do...

It's Mummy Time!

Royalty..

Cats!

And even the poor, poor simpleton!

Rhythm of Life

.
What is the purpose of life if those that you love are lost.
.

I'm stuck in an infinite limbo, lost of control, helpless, with both the powers of eternal despair and beautiful joy pulling on the heart-strings of my emotions. There is so much beauty in life, outweighing all else. But yet, I find myself inevitably realising, that time is just fickle. Permanency is an idea, imaginary but comforting, giving a false sense of warmth and security in a chaotic world. Yet the truth is that the world breathes in rhythms, the cycles and flows of life are not meant to remain constant. The world and everything within it's boundaries are designed to pulse, sometimes spinning off in a tangent, never to intersect our lives again.

The beauty of life is not in what we have, but in what we once had. After all, when death befalls us we become merely skin and bones, wrapped loosely in decaying garments, our bodies gently decomposing urging to once again join the flows of earth to begin the cycle of life once more. What becomes of our conscience, our spirit, our essence, our soul, this truly no-one knows. We remember not our pasts, and know not our future. We are in a stuck in the infinite limbo of time, shining and pulsing like a star, destined to die a thousand deaths once more.

Share the Love!

I feel amazing, I feel beautiful, I feel healthy and happy. I’m enjoying life. There’s so much love in my heart, love for my family, love for my friends, love for my life. I want to share this feeling with everyone, so long as they breathe! Life is such an amazing thing, so joyous. If you love life, you’re truly alive. If you don’t, your mind is a corpse, waiting for your body to join you. Everyone should love life, maybe we think we do, but do you really? There’s so many good wonderful lovely beautiful things in life, one heart can not hold it all!

Dream Stream - Love, Rejection and Panic

The most strange nightmare befell me last night. It began with a greeting, I met a person I knew in the real world, and smiled. He was a guy I knew from university, a friend. We greeted each other and began to hang out, talking, joking around, getting along really well. We spent a lot of time together. It was going so well, too well. He looked at me and confessed that he wanted to talk to me, I felt the dread grow within me. In his car, he took me to the top of a green hill, stopped the engine, and turned to me. In order to spare him the time and dignity, I blurted out how I see him as a really good friend, making it clear that his feelings of love towards me were one-sided. He was about to confess his love and I rejected him. Sensing his devastation, I swiftly left the car, and decided to leave the flat.
As I searched for my way out, not knowing where I was going, blindly walking through the maze of corridors, I took a wrong turn, interrupting a large gathering of other students. Immediately they realised that I was not one of them, that I was not supposed to be where I was, a trespasser? They smelt blood!
Knowing that I couldn’t convince them that I had entered with someone, that I was not a trespasser or thief, and knowing that I couldn’t go back to the guy, for I had just rejected him, I panicked and RAN!

That’s when I woke up. Decode and analyse this all you wish. I’m just glad I had an exciting dream, worthy of blogging about!

Burn the Path!

"Gentle musings"

My life is at a cross-roads, if I close my eyes, I can see myself in the future, living the life that I want. But will I ever reach there? What if I make a decision that destroys the path I wish to take, and should I be worried? Or perhaps there are many paths that reach the same destination, it's just what you pass that changes, like sign-posts on a road and passing scenery. Maybe one path will lead you through the heavy snow, and another will find you toiling the hot dessert heat, but ultimately, the oasis you reach is one and the same. The only thing that changes is YOU.

Perhaps that the choices you make in life only affect the path you take, but your destiny remains written.

Maybe it doesn't matter how you do it, just as long as you get there in the end. Whatever path you take will just make you stronger in it's own way, maybe you're battling through a wall of cactuses or ploughing through three-foot snow, or swimming through a stormy river, maybe no matter which route we take, we will ultimately be striving towards the same light, reaching for the same goal. It's possible that we might fall on the way, but as long as we keep striving, we will always have hope and a purpose in life.

Drifting Mind

"A snapshot of my mind"

Everyone around me has someone, I don't mean to be so sensitive, but that makes me feel lonely. It's as if everyone either has a partner, or is pursuing somebody.
But what about me?

I don't really date, probably because I've never met anyone that I would want to. I don't know.
It all seems really confusing.

I'm more sensitive than I give off, let me tell you that straight. If someone says something near me, I might not react, but my mind is absorbing everything like a sponge does with water. Which is why I hate hate hate negative people, which is quite unlucky, considering who I live with.

*sigh*

I don't know what I want, I'm just feeling, and trying to understand my feelings.

My mind is summarised best by the following symbols:

"….?……?…"

Peace and love to you all.★

Murky Thoughts

"Snapshot of my mind."

I've reached an emotional breaking point today. I'm trying to get through it but I can't, and never will. No one understands, and I don't expect them to. Life is like a riddle with no answers. I wan't to believe there's a purpose to it all, but the deeper I search the more I find despair. A broken soul can never be repaired. Time is a paradox, for every blessing there's a curse. It's the universal law, Yin for every Yang. Black and White, Love and Hate and a Night for every Day. Only, my life doesn't work that way. It only heals just break around me. Life isn't fair, nor is it balanced. That's why humans plead for heaven and hell, or some sort of redistribution, balancing the injustice that is reality. What's there to live for, if tomorrow will never come.

Worlds and Worries

"Snapshot of my mind"

I'm far too confused about life, when I feel comfortable living in my world something happens, bring my attention back down to reality. I live in my head.
When I spend time with different people, I feel as if I've ventured into their world, so strange and alien to mine. It shakes me. It makes me wonder about the direction of my life, and question whether what I value and prize so dearly about myself and my self-created world, is actually truly inadequate. I find myself asking, how do people know how they want their lives to be? What must I do, to know for sure, that this is how I should live.

If only I knew, I would design my universe around it, moulding it around the answer. I don't want to be just complacent, living my life as a shadow in a world of shadows, indistinguishable from everyone else. That's all I know for sure.

Destiny Dreams

"Snapshot of my mind"

Some nights, I can't sleep, thoughts crowd my mind. I wonder about my future, and what direction my life should take.

I'm not facing any difficult decisions, but in a way, we always are, the decisions we make, as little as they seem now, can have a drastic affect like waves in the ocean creating a tsunami, changing the path of history that our lives will lead forever. I don't want to make a mistake, or rather, I wan't to make the best of myself. I'm not one for regrets, I can think of none. There is not a breath I have taken that I would take back. But, if I could go back to the beginning, perhaps I would live my life completely different, but only because this path that I'm on today has already been walked upon, and living differently would be new and exciting. But perhaps my life would again end up the way it is today, maybe I would find myself making the same decisions once more, maybe this is how it's all just meant to be.

The Quest for the Perfect Language

"Mirror reflection examination of my mind, body and soul"

Japanese, I'm obsessed. I love their language, and like their culture. I've always wanted to learn a language, other than my mother tongue and English. Here in Britain taking a language is compulsory for a few years, but French and German never really held my attention. German is so manly, and French, well is French. I wanted to learn something new, something exotic and something useful.

Some suggested I learn Arabic. At first this captured my attention, it was both exotic and interesting. However, one thing it wasn't, was useful. Arabic essentially comes in three forms. Standard arabic, is the formal type, used by corporations and governments. However this would not allow you to communicate with an Abdul Hakim that you could come across in the sandy streets of Arabia. The second type is the arabic dialect, of which there are about six squillion, learn one, and risk being alienated from all others. This did not seem useful at all. The third type of Arabic is Quranic, it's what all the dear-old-grandma's would bend over backwards to see their muslim grandkids learn. A dead language. No, it seemed, Arabic just wouldn't do, at all.

I almost gave up with my quest to learn a fascinating new language, that is, until I stumbled upon my cousins bookshelf, and found a series of Japanese language books. He had studied it at school, and learnt it fluently. I'd never thought about japanese. All I knew of them was there love of anime and gaming. That was all.

But flicking through the Japanese book, on how to draw the many characters the language is made of, I was astonished. This language seemed so alien, but yet so beautiful. Nothing at all like English.

Even after this initial attraction, I hesitated. "Why study Japanese?" I thought, when the Chinese are the "people of the future". They rule economically, dominating many spheres at heart-wrenching speeds. The whole world sat astonished as China leapt away from the shackles of poverty and communism, into the light at the end of the tunnel that is free trade and capitalism. This spark ignited the engine, forcing the train that is China to accelerate at alarming and remarkable speeds economically. This was a country that the future was made for. And their language, Mandarin, is therefore an important language in the business and economic spheres, which interest me so.

But yet, Japanese drew me in. Like a musical whisper dancing in the air, lulling me towards it. Mandarin, I rationalised, has way too many characters to learn, and it's economic strength is highly speculative, whereas Japan is an established powerhouse, an economy with an interesting economic story.

Everyone would go for China, my inner voice proclaimed, therefore you should go for Japan, and nourish your independent streak. One thing I dislike, is depending on others, and being like others. My independence is like a jewel in my crown that defines me as who I am, no way would I trade that in for joining the norm. If I behave like everyone else, then how can I be better than anyone else? What is the purpose of my life if forced to live and be ordinary, what value is my life worth if all I do, is as others do. No, I forbade, I shall study Japanese, and thus began my journey.

Cry Baby!

"Mirror reflection examination of my mind, body and soul"

I always cry, it's as if there's something innately wrong with me!
It's as if I go out of my way to think up things that are sad, forcing me to cry. It's quite concerning actually, ha ha. I'll give you some examples, once, on the train to uni, I saw a tall skyscraper and found myself thinking ..what if I were a guy in the tower.. and it was some sort of September 11th.. and I had to choose between certain death staying in the tower and probable death from jumping off the tall building. I could just feel the desperation and sadness the person would be going through, and it felt as if i were that guy and those emotions were mine, it felt so real that I started crying, on the train, to uni! I'm kinda stupid like that, obviously I stopped myself, but then I began to question myself, why do I even think about things like that, after all, it's so depressing.

Another example is earlier today, I was on skype to my cousin, during which I was reading a blog. Whilst I was skyping with her, I had read something that it really struck me deep and made me sad, I felt like crying. I stopped myself, obviously, but then just ten minutes later the conversation led it's way to something that made me feel so sad, and I couldn't hold it in. So then I started crying. It would have been embarrassing, but I trusted her. Or maybe it's not about trust, she's a really nice person and I mean that so genuinely, but people won't always see it because she guards herself very well, and to a certain extent so does everyone..

And again just now, a moment before I started typing this post in fact, and I warn you that this is immensely stupid, but when I said it's as if I just -make- myself cry almost on purpose, I meant it.

I was thinking about things, as my mind always does, and then I told myself bluntly,

"you're not loved by anyone, and it's okay because, you're okay with it".

What a horrible thing to say to anyone, let alone to yourself ha ha. But yeah, so I ended up crying and then realising that I suppose I'm not okay with it after all. Maybe I just push my own buttons to see how I really feel, deep down inside, or maybe I'm just horrible ha ha, I don't know.

I guess maybe it's just that I'm a lonely person, not in a needy clingy way that some find themselves being when they feel lonely, but I guess loneliness is how I've always felt, for most of my life. When you do something enough times it becomes normal to you, or so they say.

Haha, wow, now I think I'm really stupid for writing this post in a public blog with my name all over it, I guess I should change that ha ha.

Someone I was talking to today told me that they started an anonymous blog, because a friend mentioned that blogging helps clear his mind. So in essence I suppose that I'm writing this post in order to clear my mind too, and to stop myself from making myself cry. After all, it's really annoying and makes me seem like such a cry baby ha ha.

Death

"Mirror reflection examination of my mind, body and soul"

Death is a strange thing, how I wish I could understand it. Why is it that life can deteriorate and disappear, within a blink of the eye? It brings such sorrow and sadness, whether it's the death of a dear friend or a parent. Death, beyond everything else, is death.
Death in itself is inevitable, predictable even. The affects on me however, are strange. The death of a parent can be so painful, so depressing, lurking within your soul, only to be painfully brought to the surface, clouding all other thoughts, dragging you down with it. The death of a friend is different, it's strange. A friend is someone who you share a connection with, your souls or waves sync perfectly, like sounds harmonising into a beautiful melody, when you feel like you and another are on the same page. I made a friend, with an old lady who I met only rarely. She was just, on paper, an ordinary old lady. But this was different.

When I met her, as infrequently as I did, I felt a bond, a connection with her. It was as if I had met someone who connected with my soul, in a strange and unexpected way. When I close my mind I can still see the twinkle in her eye as she looked at me. A playful spirit inside her ageing body. I feel blessed to have shared, whatever it was, with her. She died almost a year ago, during the snowy winter of London. I was scared to attend her funeral, scared mainly of how easily it seems that the sorrow of death can force itself into my mind. The heavy snow did well in shielding me from this, by trapping the car, forcing me not to attend.

But today, as I lay in bed, about to sleep, a deep sorrow overcame me, a single but powerful realisation occurred to me: Oh, how I miss her.

Quotes