old tales

considering the temporary and volatile nature of harddisks and computers, i used to save my documents that i really wanted to save by emailing them to myself. there is no fool proof solution though, since data becomes corrupted, hard drives fail, computers crash, papers are lost, servers crash, and YAHOO DECIDES TO DELETE YOUR ENTIRE FREAKING EMAIL ACCOUNT FOR NOT LOGGING IN IN 3 MONTHS.

and just like that, a LOT of stuff that i really liked to go back to read (or not read but at least know it was there for old times sake) is gone, from AIM conversations dating back to the 1990s, to hilarious email exchanges, and particularly, a whole LOT of writing.

see, i'm secretly a huge nerd, and i was an even bigger one many years ago, especially during the years i was in hifdh. my life consisted of going to qur'an class, not doing any school work (i wasted my mom's homeschool program money), and WRITING. i used to be a member of a forum in which people would create different characters and write stories about them and interact with other characters. i was actually really good, and it helped my writing a lot, and even though it might be classified as lame, i had some good times writing some pretty cool stories. i saved these stories to my yahoo accounts: gangstaeskimo, and dragonsworn00 (lol), but now both of those are gone, and those forums do not have archives that old anymore, and i'm pretty sure i will never see a lot of it again.

today though, i decided to look through some old CDs i had lying around, and lo and behold, one of them had one of the last stories i wrote. i'm thinking about posting it up here, as well as saving it somehow so i don't lose it anytime soon, and i'm gonna go look for other CDs that might have other remnants of my past, one that was far superior to my current state in its literary richness.

Pen vs Paper

Stuff from a couple semesters ago:

Pen

Sometimes I gotta get loose for the part,
Stretch out my limbs, blow a little on the tip,
Give a small tap, take a tiny sip, remove my cap,
And then I start to start, doodle (do-a) little bit of art,
Get my blood flowing like ink through my heart!
That was a little hint, but incase you haven’t figured it,
I’m your pal, pen, and this paper here’s my nemesis!
Been around since genesis, before sins and sicknesses
Weaknesses and wickedness, and you shall be my witnesses
Because it’s quite simple, that paper’s not my equal,
My audience be fickle, I influence the people!
So now you see the way I see, me, the clear superior,
At will I paint plain white sheet to black exterior,
At will I scratch and bleed, impose my will and soul true,
Paper sits helpless; push hard enough I cut through,
Lean and tall, strong and all, truly the best,
Now watch as I carve my name on Paper’s chest…

Paper

My ancestors are dried leaves; I am born from the ancient trees,
Lofty pillars great in height, severed to their knees,
With sap and splinter do they bleed, still gracious to their seed,
Bear fruit for Axe to eat and through this sacrifice succeed!
And in their wake I breathe, thus a truly blessed being.
And through this history I live, I feel, I see, I read
They claim we’re fragile; paper-thin, and thus that we are weak,
I’d say we’re gentle, flexible, durable during times of need,
Not the bursting rage of inferno flames, destroying its own seed,
But the water that can flow yet crash, that undoes fire’s deed,
The sweet caress of a blistering wind, when it donates its breeze,
The gentle lap of wave on shore from the deepest currents of the seas,
Water over Earth, and Wind upon Fire; a Strength not easily perceived
And so I am of this legacy, a proud member of this creed,
Yet humble in my way to life, sacrifice my services to need,
Greater still like our folks of old, making into Books that people read,
Or even when the pen strikes through, tearing wastefully with greed…
This is how we lead.

Ibn al-Mubarak said:

‘How many people carry the Qur’an in the hearts but the Qur’an curses them from inside their hearts! If the bearer of Qur’an disobeys his Lord, the Qur’an calls him from inside his chest saying, ‘By Allah, you have not carried me (i.e. memorised me) for this! Will you not be shy from your Lord?’