and then our exile

For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason
--from Sonnet CLI

~
One man under one God, yet host to contrived complexity.

Anyhow. Ever noticed how when you are half asleep taking notes, you write the most ajeeb things? Like yesterday, in 'Arabi class, we were doing the haruf-e-istifham, except in my notes out of nowhere i wrote something about sending money to Umar Shuaib. What money? And why Umar? Maybe i'm trying to tell myself something.

i've run out of adjectives for Usman. "Er ist ein kleiner Pinsel."

i know Farooq doesn't mean it, but at times he makes fun about 'living in the boonies'. And so he should've experienced last night--totally, totally dark, with stars blazing as physical testimonies to the Beyond. i could write about how the sheer expanse of Sky was overwhelming, and how *white* the starlight seemed, or how the air smelled like the wet spring morning last year after i'd stayed up all night reading Dr. Zhivago and then went on a long walk as the sun came up... except i won't, because i must do other stuff.

Essentially, remember me in your adu'a.