Sep 13, 2016


She watches herself play in the moment. She is walking this earth within certain limitations. She is not familiar with restrains. She is not from this earth. She's from elsewhere. She came from the stars. She expanded with the universe. She is bigger than the body that contains her. She sits in circles, and twirls within and without them.

The Trap

Unheard. Unseen.
She walks into mirrors. 
The illusion is engrained. 
It has been engineered to alter perceptions. 
She exists in other's realities 
Not knowing how to create her own..
No one taught her the value
Of the emptiness within.
She's hollow. Soulless. 
She recognises her body although it's new to her. 
Her organs fill her body well.
Her veil covers the flaws.
It secures the emptiness. 
The light can't penetrate the darkness,
Only if it shines from within.
She lives in mirrors. 
Perceptions, distorted.
Illusions, constructed. 

Break them. Sort them. Destroy them.

Sep 6, 2016


I have believed in lies.
I believed that for me to be free
I have to be different,
For me to be independent
I have to be separate,
For me to remain my unique self,
I have to reject oneness.
These were my excuses.
That I am special on my own,
Which means I don't get to enjoy myself with any one,
and that I am essentially alone.
I believed that
For me to express my uniqueness was a loss,
for sharing myself would mean
losing myself.
These were my lies.
I believed them to my core.
They protected me from sharing the love I have to offer
and the freedom to live.
These were the construct of my conditioning.
I know now, I am free to be
I am independent in my dependence on the universe.
Today, I wear my self,
proud, brave, and victorious.
I see my truth and I am high on life.
I celebrate my awareness, with my presence.
I know, I am supported by His unconditional love,
always and forever.
These were my lies.
These were my excuses.
They are not mine anymore.
I sent them to His light.
They are taken care of.

Sep 4, 2016


She was eating herself alive, the remains of this self destruction was the only thing moving in her stillness. She stood strong while she destructs, distrusts, and disrupts her existence. She was beautiful but insecure. I wish she knew her worth. 

She was tangled in her thoughts and fears. She no longer wanted to be. She decided to transform and become.

 So she became fierce. 

Journal #07

Finally our paths collided.. Our footprints no longer matter. We are in each other's presence. It's all good for now. We are present and in the moment. We see no future because we are instilled in the present we have received. All I could feel is happiness. All I could express is gratitude. All I could do is embrace the gifts of today. All I could do is trust my creations. This is great.

Letters to self

Dear Me, 
If I could only tell you back then what I know now.. that your soul is ever more beautiful than the body and form that you have been blessed with... That beauty is reflected in the essence that you are terrified to share with the world.. That you are smarter than you think you are, that you are deeper than you know you are, and that you are more precious than what you were conditioned to believe.. That your feminine energy- intuition, empathy, and creativity- harnesses your true strength and power.. That your value is not defined with perfection of creation, but rather appreciation of creation, however imperfect. That you are loved because you are worthy of love.. And that it is safe to love, it is always safe to love... Most importantly, that you are enough.. Way more than enough. You are a universe on its own..

Much love and appreciation,


As I walk in the alleys of today, I'm stuck between two worlds. There is no way of escaping it. I have no other option but to make this journey. I am a prisoner of constructed meanings and false binaries, of good and evil, right and wrong, tradition and modernity, regression and progress... I am imprisoned in contrast. I walk and labor on an unknown path. As I move forward, I realise my freedom always resided on these sacred grounds I walk on and the skies above me. 

Journal #21

 ...I became more aware recently of the tightness I feel in my throat and the heaviness in my chest. I get this feeling every time I want to express myself. I have always felt this way, so it's nothing new.. But my awareness lately has been focus on this feeling, that I didn't quite understand. The more I felt it, the more it harbored in my body, breaking down into small particles of the purest form of anxiety. Absorbed, my palms start to tremble and sweat. I nervously laugh it off... I'm high on fear.

Fear... That's what it is... What am I fearing? Why am I afraid to express myself?
That I would be judged..? No.. Worse..! That I will be punished for expressing myself and that it is not safe for me to be who I am.. That I would be in trouble for speaking my mind and sharing my thoughts.. That if I express myself fully and genuinely, I would be disapproved of, shunned, mistreated, hurt, and rejected.. That expressing my anger, love, sadness, happiness, joy, compassion, frustration, or excitement, is not allowed, inappropriate, unacceptable, or at times illegal... Suddenly my life makes sense.. For my soul to heal this fear of expression, it chose my parents to teach me through their experiences, and to provide me with the life that allowed me to learn who I am by existing in contrast. It chose inspiring soul mates that are so strong, so brave, so fierce, and mostly authentic.. It chose to make me experience and survive the most difficult of situations, urging me always to step up and be present for myself- living by my values, going after my dreams, and honoring my sacred boundaries.. It chose to be an artist and a creative.. It chose to major in visual communications, giving me all the tools, mentors, and teachers to help me heal from this crippling fear. I am blessed and grateful. I am healing and integrating. I am so lucky


  • طيري يا صغيرتي.. اخيراً سقط القناع.. حلّقي الى المدى البعيد.. فالانتماء حالة برجوازية.. و رفاهية غير صالحة للأحرار..

The muse

The biggest fear for a creative's soul is loss of inspiration.. The death of a connection to that creative energy, the source.. The desire to perform the death of desire... The death of the muse.. I wonder where she has been.. That beautiful intelligence that overcomes me, that penetrates me, impregnates me, and lovingly and patiently await for my delivery.. With full acceptance she awaits.. Assisting and watching me deliver our creation.. This is Magic.



At peace.
I breathe. I breathe deep.
I sink deep.
Within and without, I am
Sinking, thinking:
how deep is this rabbit hole?
I breathe in light,
From my roots to my crown,
It's flowing, I feel it in me:
It feels like I'm choking.
My throat is tight,
My lips are shut.
My heart is bleeding from my knees.
I am releasing in preparation
For my transition and growth.
My heart is open,
it's ready to forgive.
My wounds are bleeding
The pain away.
My truth is being released
As tears in my eyes.
I am at peace.
I am. I will. I do.
I Am and It is done.
And so it is. 

The Emotional-Self

Digging through the memories,
Looking for myself,
I am left with the fragments,
Distorted, I become
Uncertain, unknown
I dig with caution,
Into myself, so into myself
The narcissism, deflects from the pain,
The pain is evident,
the suffering concealed
The love no longer there
To heal the trauma of time
I am here, but I do not exist
The truth has been vandalized,
And it will be expressed as such.

Digging through the instances,
Through the child's smile,
Through the teenage confusion,
Through the adult counterfeits,
I dig deeper,
Into the memories.
The memories....
Oh the memories.
I let them go. They are not real.
I cut into myself deeper,
I collect the fragments,
I am depressed, regressed,
In fear of losing myself again,
Only to find myself whole.

Journal #1

I am simultaneously what happened and what will become. I am happening as a result of my past, and my spiritual growth towards the future. I am suspended between the chronology of my human experience, a moment in my timeline that is easily escapable. Somewhere between the past and the future, lays this present moment, where I am experiencing the happenings of my soul expression manifested in the form of human experiences, in complete acceptance of this form and its essence, and achieving this miracle of complete awareness of my oneness in time, collapsing the timeline into one unifying moment that always existed and never existed at all. I am grateful to be able to experience this state of mindfulness with the divine grace bestowed upon me, so openly, deeply, and genuinely... With trust, compassion, and appreciation. And that is fucking beautiful.