Obsession
Fashion, like many things in my life, is one of those disciplines which has more so remained dormant until the world awakened it to become active again. Clothing and style always being something important to me, like various endeavors, such as writing, photography, and film (all fields in which my recognition stems from), began as a hobby or trait which came from the influences of my immediate culture. A culture that is vast due to my multidisciplinary setting, enchanting worlds of glamour, art and individuality that have long called to me. And just as I find excitement from my intentions and present ideas for the future by way of my interests, there weighs a separate entity, on the end of it all. That of a worldly uncertainty, fears of misalignment in the heart, a slippage into discontentment while I chase happiness in worldly goods.
Scholarship and literary practice have uncovered for me the true powers rooted in art and literature. How the very existence and observation of it, has the power to cloud one’s heart, establish enamorment in the intricacies and beauties of existence. One can only hope however, that they establish a cycle of repetition in this world, one of return and neglect, a swap between death, lifes apparent finality and its wonders, and life’s continuation (following death) and one’s preparation for it. No matter how firm a person may be upon the truth, one can only hope, that the power of creation -- its history and tangibility -- will always be capable of moving the individual and saving them from neglect.
Constantly, I reiterate that I must find and implement the discipline to pray often, read and memorize from the Qur’an and learn and teach about Islam as much as possible. However, during the process, comes a buildup, of enjoyment, which turns excessive into obsessions and finally into a burnout. And only after the burnout does a new obsession take form, and while that form is usually in the world of literature and arts, that is not always the destination.
Other times I am in other places.
I have carefully and intentionally orchestrated my dealings to surround that which Allah and my religion have made clear to stay away from. There have been times where my obsession fell deep into, for instance, the world of music. Long consecutive nights, functioning only on caffeine and stimulants, writing and writing to record for hours, just as grueling and unenjoyable as any other annoyance, (it had often been unenjoyable), for the fact that my heart was not in it, as much as I told myself and convinced others that it was. My lord had always presided over me, as I pursued a forbidden endeavor that led me into those things which lie beneath the umbrella of music itself. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll as they say, is merely interchangeable between genres. Hip hop, alternative or pop, all come with sex and drugs. So that obsession accrued and when it was ready, exhausted itself.
There have been times when my obsession fell deep into women, absolutely in awe with the muse like nature and dichotomies of softness and strength proclaiming themselves through the same voice. I found home in their holiness. I learned the sanctity of the female, her body, mind, tongue, intentions, great wit, and the foresight every physical and spiritual inch of her had to offer, something so great, it can belong only to the hands of the greatest God. I had no part to play in any of it, yet they live here for me to marvel at and I them. My obsession accrued at this very thought, until reality in terms of God’s greater nature set cause to my exhaustion once more, into reiteration.
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