and then our exile

Have just come back from a walk outside with the moon. A white-washed inverted landscape swept clear of anything but light...stars, planets, cosmic delights and moons galore, the desert expanses of our souls resemble tonight in form, if not in feature. Or rather, in feature, if not in form. And now, because I'm sitting with synthetic light and in front of a screen emitting electron-ic rays affecting me in ways i do not want to know or understand, i am depressed. Tonight is a night I want to sleep outside. Under the stars. With nothing but me. An aura of warmth with an undercurrent of foreshadowings of cold--temperature readings meteorologists do not understand.

There are times that--and I know my city-living people may be surprised, but blah--I want to live further away. When I go outside in the middle [well, 9.35pm] of the night to watch the stars, I don't enjoy hearing highway traffic.

If you haven't seen the moon, go outside right now. I don't care where you live--do it. But: if you happen to be wearing a lungi, do make sure it's tight beforehand.

Today, was in Sahaba Masjid for the first time. A large African community there...a nice enough building.

What is strange and sad: when Usman is 15, Hamza & Hamoodi will be 18, and I will be in my 30s. And Noor in her late 20s. And Ammi & Babaji will be ... 60s? And Oma--94?
Numbers aren't real. I hate numbers.

Two hours to complete four English assignments.