welcome home kotter
June 16th, 2003 byi’m home. i think.
My room is packed with small cars, relics of a childhood past, of a hobby still alive, despite hundreds of miles between a shelf and its caretaker. There must be over a hundred cars, in little boxes, mint condition, all carefully assembled. There are yet others, packed, untouched, in their fancy wrappings in plain boxes against yet another wall of the room.
In the midst of all this, I sleep, my few belongings still packed in a suitcase. I’m not even sure if i’ll unpack this time. I move, a little more, in a week again. Then again. Then again. I heard that the best way to live in this world is to be always packed. Afterall, this life is but a small rest area, a testing ground, a warzone of human challenges in a world of over 6 billion different combinations.
There. That helps me breath easy. To have Him on my side.
Close your eyes and find Him.
Be stronger then, and find Him again with your eyes opened.
June 17th, 2003 at 12:15 am
i’d like to have Him on my side. but it’s hard to find Him sometimes…
June 17th, 2003 at 10:53 pm
That happens, many times in life, many times a year, many times a month, many times a day and many times an hour.
Our vision may change, but the facts remain the same yaser.
June 18th, 2003 at 7:42 pm
How old are you Waleed?
June 19th, 2003 at 4:26 pm
The word Waleed, from the very little I know of its root orgins (most of which I perhaps have made up myself) comes from the word Waled, in arabic, which means child.
Waleed itself means “new born baby”.
I used to fancy that I was/am, in many ways good and bad, that old exactly.
June 21st, 2003 at 1:25 am
lol, okay.