Be A Ghazi

One of the only reasons I am still here is Pasha’s Phrase, “Be a Ghazi.”

Doesn’t stop me from complaining though…

I am sitting here right now wondering why there is a ‘dent’ in my hand and wondering if it even matters. It has been a really bad 2 months and I am too tired to even make the list now as I write but the list is there and also the question: “How to let things go?”

Short of being dead how DO you let things go?

I get really confused because in order for me to let things go I have to get rid of them out of my life. I do that already. Does not work there is this annoying little thing called ‘Memory.’ I tried putting all the bad stuff in a balloon once and ‘let it go’ symbolically and found out I might have killed a few birds or maybe even made a plane malfunction.

“Your ass is as big as the side of a barn!”

“You will have the family skin…”

“You are wierd!”

“Dear Mr.and Mrs. _______ we kindly ask that you take your daughter out of our school as she is scaring the other children with her witchery.”

“I am sorry your daughter could never win this beauty contest.”

“You are so sweet and kind and I wish you were younger and prettier.”

“I think I love someone else and I wish you would meet her.”

“You are Lazy, and Stupid!”






(ad nauseum)

I did get a coupla comments over the years:



“Good writer”

(none of those get you laid when you are lonely enough to date the Devil and anyway there is SIN to consider not to mention the critique: That was not really sexy what you wrote.”)

Ok dude! Sheesh! I’ll make it a POEM!

Here lately I hear alot about how cool OTHER people are and thats great and all….(just don’t expect me to marry you or anything!)

Right now my back burns and my left shoulder hurts so bad I am almost crying but crying won’t make it stop hurting. If I cry I might not stop. How am I supposed to keep on living?


Balloons don’t work…trust me. I don’t expect any knight in shining armour I don’t think there are any left on earth. Sometimes I think I would sign my soul over in my own blood just for a place to rest myself in some strong and loving place and let some one ELSE deal with the workmen, the blasted kitchen, and the cyber attacks by people who have no idea who I am….

….and ALOT to protect me from assholes who would claim I asked for my health problems or it is a lack of faith that keeps them from being healed. If a Gay Russian Midget from the Kamchatka Mountains came down to see me and knew my name and healed me….??????????

I might take on Russian Citizenship!

Sometimes this world and it’s lack of real compassion stinks…..and so that last invectives of, “Are you a REAL Muslim and “PRETTTYYYYYYY DON”T LEEEAVE MEEEE!!!!!!” (and to me) “See what you did you DEVIL are you happy you DEVIL!”

How to let it go…..the piles and piles of words and events that are the sum of all of me…sheesh right now even a deep breath is hurting!

If I had a day without physical pain I would run screaming out the door….I want to cry but Pasha is standing behind me saying, “Be a Ghazi.”

Be a Ghazi. Not easy. Paste the smile back on. Be a ghazi.

Ya Allah is there anything left? Ya Allah how can I forget?

Ya Allah can you take this tear that rolls down a lifetime from my soul?

5 thoughts on “Be A Ghazi

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