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Laa'iqah - The Seed Sower   
Friday, 18 November 2005

Illusions

Making illusions, replicas of the real thing, but not quite, enthralls us. Why does reality scare us so, and why do we try so hard to deny it or hide from it... now you all know what I am talking about right? Let's explore shall we...

For those who refuse to be entertained by my thoughts at this time, perhaps now is when you click delete and not face the realism of what I am about to share with you. Will you read on and taste the regurgitation of feelings you have felt yourself, will you allow the taste of reality to be savored and come to enjoy the subtle truth to be found therein? Or will you ignore the brutality of honesty and never come to know its comfort. Its raw beauty...

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Do you recognize the person you really are and are you comfortable with the vision of blatant truth that stares back at you? Are we surrounded by things that are not real... why do we compromise on the original, even though we see its value, transparently so?

Not talking about the fake DVDs, clothes, jewellery, perfume... we always want the substitute because it is cheaper or easier to obtain and it means we can still sit back with the fruits of our labor and marvel at our achievements. I ask you this though, how close is sacrificing who you are and who you were born to become, for convenience?

It is always easier to pay less... how often have you paid less by hiding what you really wanted to say... to be able to sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor and having the person you lied to appreciate you a little more? Ever pretended to be something or feel something fake, just to get by? Just to be accepted... What is the point of being accepted by other people when you cannot begin to accept yourself, because you don't even remember the real you anymore.

Reality... It bites like a dog doesn't it... I would rather grapple with the rabies that my dog of reality leaves me with, than to wonder around aimlessly, not knowing anything that counts. Knowing you really count because the real you is what matters.

We were born with the ability to be... just be who we are and that slowly leaves us as we grow... We regress actually then don't we? At nursery school, we don't want a certain lunch box, because the others will scoff at our indifference. At middle school we refuse to be different, because then we will not have any friends. As we age we are uncomfortable with the idea of not telling our lovers that they are not what we wanted. Yet we will take on another lover on the side. We hide from knowing deep down that we are not worthy of the job we have, yet we enjoy our money and ignore people who have nothing but the wet grass to keep them warm at night... are we any more valuable and real than the illegal DVD... the fake label clothing... We don't know how to be us anymore, because being someone else, having something other than the REAL, this is so convenient, so comfortable.

We are lulled into this false euphoria.
When will you wake up from it. When will you just be real?



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