The fault in our stars.. All the stars.

Sometimes I question life; for the most part, I have accepted it. I have accepted the pain as a part of my growth. It's not fair. It's just not fair. 

Speechless speak less

When there's so much to say but there's nothing you can say. When there's so much you can do but have no idea where to start. Is it the beginning or is it merely the end?

My dog lives in heaven and I miss her.

The only time I believe there's life beyond earth is when I wish to see those who have left this world. 

One of the most loving beings I came across in my life; and how lucky I was to have met her; was my dog, Cherry. For months now I have been struggling and the one thing that helps me get through the tougher days are the good memories.

The toughest part is that I remember her most during her last hours. And looking into her eyes and not being able to save her; the last moments. I wish I could focus more on the silly times. The times when she would cuddle me just because. The times when she would jump on the couch with me and lay on my lap. And all the times she would come kiss my hands. I miss her whole heartedly. It's tougher to go through life and death after losing such a vital part of you. 

Nomad nomad nomad

Nomad: the definition is something along the lines of a professional wanderer. 

I've always seen myself as a nomad. I remember a boy from the same ethnicity as I am told me my last name tells him that I am a gypsy, a nomad. This was over nine years ago and I don't think I will ever forget. I can even hear him saying it. Not because I was offended, but for the first time, it sounded so right. 

I am not of gypsy heritage, and I am in no way trying to be disrespectful towards the people who identify as this. I appreciate every heritage that the world has to offer. I think the beauty in all of us is the past we offer. 

Whenever I am getting close to a new friend, key word: close, I make sure to let them know that I am in no position to judge them of their past; and they are not in any position to judge mine. It is not that our pasts make us ugly. It is that our pasts shouldn't be a topic of embarrassment. Our pasts show the complicated puzzle we are. 

Stars and strippers

Here's to hoping you actually don't read my blog. You know it, so I hope you've forgotten the handle and forget the page. 

I hope you find what it is you're looking for in life. I hope it is better than you expect, because you my friend, deserve the stars, the moon, and everything else life has to offer. There's a saying, if you love something let it go; you did that. And I'm forever proud of you. Not because she was bad for you, but because you let her go when she asked to leave. It is scary and sometimes lonely to go through it all. But I promise you this, she will be back. And if you want her at that point, you take her back with open arms. As long as your heart is in whole, I will be happy. I know I am your best friend and your love is all I need when it comes to us. I already got it. I appreciate you to no ends. To never let anything wedge a distance between us. Cause even twins fight; I don't want to ever fight with you. 

As for the situation at hand, I will be okay. Like I always promise I will. When you find that level of peace, I will be okay. 

I never want you to have to pick my friendship in any given situation. I don't want anyone to doubt it. Love you sunshine and hang in there. There's always a rainbow after a storm. 

Right thing

It's a complicated thing. It's a really complicated feeling. I am actually uncomfortable. 

I don't know what the right thing to do is anymore. But I will do what is right for you. What is right for me isn't always what's right for the other guy. 

Love no more

I'm afraid of making new friends and moving forward with life. I wonder if you love nothing, can anything hurt at all? 

Give me strength, oh Lord.

I know life isn't meant to be easy, not for most of us at least. My life has been clouded by obvious emotions the last few months. I have days where I feel suffocated through each breath. It can be hard enough go get through the day but when day turns to night, dreams take over. Last night I saw Cherry and I cried so hard in my sleep that tears were flowing down my face. That woke me up and I continued to want to cry. 

I really don't know what to make of if but if definitely set a tone for this rainy Saturday. I began to feel guilty about her. I guess subconsciously I wish I knew she was sick. I didn't know. I miss her more than words can say. I don't know how to suppress the feeling. 

I feel so overwhelmed with everything that is happening right now. I am struggling to keep afloat. 

Bastard refugee child of God knows where

I am often asked why and how I can speak an array of languages; all I want to reply with is: I am a bastard child of Iran. Abandoned and lived the first few years of my life as a refugee. 

I was born to Iranian nationals who had decided to stray from the main religion at the time, Islam. My dad was stamped a spy and my parents fled in the early hours of the morning to avoid being captured and possibly murdered. I was the youngest of five children; I just over two years old.  

Through the refuge of the UN, we ended up in asylum in India. We were protected by having a chance to live here without governmental involvement. We were allowed to continue life as if it were normal. It was far from it. We were thankful but we were lost. We didn't know the language but luckily my dad knew English and some Urdu at the time. Soon after, the UN commissioned for my siblings to start school. I begged to go to school like my sisters and eventually, when I was three, I was enrolled in preschool. 

It was mandatory to learn Hindi in school if you wanted to learn English. I began learning Hindi at three. My mom says in the beginning, I would come home and cry everyday because I didn't know what anyone was saying. That eventually faded as I learned more and more. I spoke my mother tongue, which I cannot expose for possible safety reasons, I spoke Farsi thanks to my parents and also the Iranian church we attended weekly in India; the congregation was led in Farsi. I spoke Dari as a lot of the children I saw at church were refugees from Afghanistan. I now spoke Hindi and English thanks to school. I picked up some Korean and Japanese (I remember none expect a word or two) from missionaries that came to India and attended our church. 

We moved to a new neighbourhood and there she was, my new best friend, who was a year older, and was about five at the time, a pure Bengali girl! We hung out so much so that I began to speak her language to her parents. I still can understand 80-90% of it. 

Years later, we were sponsored by a church in Canada and moved here. Life restarted again. And I remember the first day of class, I began learning French. The teachers were impressed by my grammar as they assumed it would be similar to that of a cat. My grammar was impeccable, actually scored higher than any of my other classmates who were presumably Canadian children. 

This is why I speak a lot of languages. 

I am speaking candidly, if you know wh I am, please do not expose my identity here, as it may hinder the safety of my family and I. If you'd like to contact me, leave me your email, I will get in touch with you. 

I dreamt that you are happy

I saw you last night. And when I woke up, I couldn't believe it was a dream. I believe it was you. You listened to me. I asked you when I came to your grave to please tell me why you had left? I love you. And I thank you for coming to me. 

I'm sorry I couldn't understand or see your pain. I wish I knew. 

Never knew my heart could hurt so

It's been a month exactly as of yesterday. I'm going to come by and see you. I feel like I can speak to you and you can hear me. I really miss you. I hope you're happy wherever you are. I wish I could do more to help your son. I wish I could help your sister cope; I can barely handle coming by to see you. Every time I do, I get back into shock. They say with time, all wounds start to heal, you begin to accept things more. I am eager for that time. I'm trying really hard to be strong but it's so much more difficult then anyone could've ever told me. I never thought you'd be gone so soon. Like my dad said today, "I believe there's a place, another world, where we meet our loved ones once again. It's happier, this life isn't happy". I believe him. I hope it's true. He remembers his childhood and tells us stories. Today he said one about his mother catching grasshoppers in rural Iran in the 50s for my dad. She would catch them and tie strings on them and when my dad would get up, he was very young, he would go play with it for hours and then set it free. This is what he remembers. We all remember very strange things. Most of them are the most simple things and times when someone showed you love. That story made me cry because it reminded me of my grandmother, who I didn't remember but she remembered me so well. We spoke on the phone often. When she passed away, I took it very hard. Life just moves so quickly, today you are here, in the next few minutes you might not be.

I love you M.C. I'm going to come see you tomorrow with flowers. Love you. 

Stop hate

Don't let a book tell you what is wrong and what is right. You're not a child, make smart decisions and realize what is right. Pick kindness. 

Mother ❤️

If one day I can be even half the woman my mother is, my life will be complete. Having to literally leave everything behind; her mother, her siblings, her house; all for her children's sake. When they arrived outside of our native country, my parents had nothing but five young children between 14-2 years in age, and two blankets. I can't fathom the thought of how they spent those first few cold months, having left our country in October, without no knowledge of this new country, the language, or its people. It amazes me how they learned the language, and are to this day, able to communicate with people using it. My mother was a true warrior soul. I remember so many bits and pieces of my childhood and in every single memory, my mother was there, my hero. I was the 2 year old in this scenario. I felt the move the least because, frankly, I don't remember much of my life before it. To me, this new land was beautiful, bountiful, and full of adventures to be had. I spent some of my greatest childhood years there. I made friends, learned almost every other language I know today, in that country. For me it was not challenging, given my age and "spongeability". I do however admire my elder siblings and my parents. My mother was about 14 when they had to pull her out of school. Women didn't attend school and her mother needed her to be in the kitchen instead. My mother didn't oblige and went on with what was required of her. A couple of years before that, my mother had lost her father to cancer. Eventually, my father and my mother met and married when she was 19 and he was 25. She never had it easy. After her move out of our country, she was forced to restart life again. I vividly remember walking through vegetable markets with her, me in tow, cattle walking around, the scent, the noises.

She never let us realize the or feel the hardships. When we came here and I saw the blue sky, I didn't realize this was normal. I didn't know the sky was blue. This story is my mother's favourite. 

Well here we were again, she started all over. Learning a new language, understanding the dynamics of this society, and getting used to the harsh winters. I remember her walking me to school everyday and walking me home. She'd always take my backpack full of books. I was embarrassed when she came. I didn't know better, I think most children have this phase. Sometimes people wonder why I love my mother so much, I could go on for a year with reasons. But these are just snippets of our life. I love you mother. If there is a day I leave the world, someone please remind her of this. 

Wake me up when it's over

I need to sleep and I miss my life being normal. I miss my dog. I miss not having hip/knee pain (from my latest injury.. Yawnnnnn). I miss my friend who lays in a grave. I miss the drive I had to live life to the fullest. I miss driving without fear. I miss smiling. I miss not having to fight back tears cause I don't believe today is real. I miss the appreciation I once had for my daily breath of life. I wish I could once again take in the fact that I am still here. Somehow I feel guilty that I am and she isn't. I wish my Cherry was here. She always understood my pain. I don't want to believe everything that's happening right now.

I am afraid of tomorrow. I am scared for what's next. Is this a nightmare?

Come back please

It's been a week since we laid you to rest. I feel so bitter visiting you at your grave. I'm so angry at God. I'm so angry and I'm so upset. I miss you so much and I wish I had one last chance to hug you. But mostly I wish you were still here. It's almost impossible for me to write this because I can't stop crying. My heart hurts so much. 

Until we meet again my beautiful friend..   

Why I support LGBT equality and marriage:

This is becoming a hot topic currently on social media. With rainbow pictures coming out left, right, and center. 

Firstly, I would like to address the articles stating that this is a media distraction; isn't it all? Aren't we always masking what is happening around us? Yes there are many issues we need to address. 

We as the future generations are solely responsible for it. If we pretend that tha inequality faced by the LGBT community is not a real one, we are basically returning to our sad stone ages. I assume I do not have to remind everyone that this community consists of folks of all ethnicities. We can't pretend that we know that everyone deserves the right to a free life. If we didn't crave freedom as human beings, the whole world would be similar to North Korea. 

Unfortunately, this debate comes up time and time again, with the same old stale argument on the opposing side; "oh can someone please think about the children" (cue in Maude Flanders voice). There's going to be a drop in births? Wait, we didn't think about this when women got the right to an education in most developed nations and were having less children? Has this even put a tiny dent in the over population problem? How about we focus less on who the parents are of a child and focus more on the upbringing a child receives? How can we have a heterosexual parent duo with issues all the way to the moon and around the sun twice, but argue that a same sex couple with less issues are worse parents? Your sexual orientation doesn't make you a bad parent. You are a bad parent if you're already deciding you are a homophobe. We do not know who our children are going to be. Another stale argument I've heard over the past few day: "we are letting our children think it's okay to 'be gay'". Of course it's okay to be gay. Who are you to decide who someone else is? Did someone tell you who you are? 

Homosexuality has been around for as long as the world has been around. There is homosexuality & asexuality in nature with animals and other living things. We have to understand that if there is a God who created Adam and Eve, he also created Steve, Anne, and the rest of the world. (If you so choose to believe in Abrahamic religions). 

Let's choose to be fair and equal. We all deserve the right to a happy and free life. Who the hell are you to decide what that is for someone else? Who are you to judge? Remember, when you point a finger at someone, you point the rest towards yourself. Be fair to others and be kind. You are not a god, you are no one to decide. Live and fucking let live. 

Roses covered your grave today; because that's what you were, a rose. A beautiful rose.

Today we laid to rest another rose in God's garden. Your soul was beautiful. I still remember the first day we met. You were walking with your mom, and I was with mine. Little did we know, we would make an impact on each other so deeply. We spent countless hours running and playing. We laughed, we fought. We were like sisters. Our friendship fell apart somewhere down the road. I wish it didn't.. I didn't know you would be gone. And I miss you. Everyone's whose life you touched is in shock and dismay. I can't look at your mother and father in their eyes. Your funeral was the coldest day ever, even in the end of June. I love you so much and I wish you were here today. My heart is in pieces after seeing your beautiful son cry for his mother. You left us with the most precious gift ever. Your life ended too soon, too tragically. You were the most free spirited person I could've ever met. You taught me to love, to be free, to take risks. You taught me laugh, to be silly. I love you so much. And I'm so sorry for everything you went through in that short life of yours. If there is a god, you are with him I know. If there is a god, I continue to ask, why? I try to make sense of what has happened, but I cannot. Like my sister said as they lowered you into your grave, there was no reason for this. There can't be a reason for this. I love you. And it hurts cause you are alone, though I know your spirit and soul lives within us. You will never be forgotten. If tears could build a staircase and a path, I would build one to bring you back to us today. Until we meet again, I love you, I miss you, and may you rest in heavenly peace. 

M.C. ❤️

August 2, 1989 - June 26, 2015

A month ago today

May you rest in paradise and may there be a life when we meet again. I'm not sure if time heals all wounds. I think time helps you create other thoughts and memories to occupy yourself with to temporarily forget something that hurts you deeply. No one can tell you the pain of a lost loved one; especially when leaving you wasn't a choice of their own. 

Cherry, not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I usually don't cry, but today I stood above the area you rested your head at; it tore me apart. Earlier today, I said to my best friend that it feels like it's been 6 months since you left; however, right now, I feel like you left me today. My heart aches when I think about how scared you may have been, and how much pain you were in. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I didn't know you were hurting. And I miss you. 

I love you baby. 

Struggling

I hate how different my life is today compared to even a month ago. When compared to the last few months of last year, my life feels like it isn't my own. I hate to make it seem as though petty differences have changed my life drastically; however, nothing that happened in the last few months has been petty. 

From A's dad spending 3 months in a hospital following a horrific incident that left him in life support, to my kneecap having no reason to dislocate, dislocate. There was that car accident and also my heart being ripped out of my chest just a couple of weeks ago when my lovely baby was taken from me. 

Eventhough everyday should be considered a blessing; I am baffled at the thought that any of this was deserved by the people who felt it. I am thoroughly in mental anguish and my heart aches daily. It has been quite a year. I can't imagine going through worse. 

Last night, while waiting at the emergency room following yet another seizure with A, I started blankly at the wall and said, "we're back again. I do not want the days to come when all you do is spend most of your days watching your parents (God forbid), or anyone you love spend countless hours, days, years here. It feels like a hell though it is probably as close to heavenly healing as we will get." 

Seeing the amount of chaos in a hospital emergency room makes you realize the preciousness of life itself. You really can't take anything for granted. What I would do to go back a few months and detect Cherry's cancer early enough; only God can tell. I'm thoroughly hurt and feel alone. I miss her and everything happening isn't helping. 

I miss my Cherry tree

It's been exactly a week. When 7:30PM rolled around, I felt the lump in my throat grow bigger. My eyes welled up with tears and my heart sank deep. It felt as though it had dropped to my stomach. I can't believe you're gone. And just like that, my life feels so empty. 

I, like most people with pets, understand that they leave you eventually. I, like most of those people, expect them to die at 15-20, of old age. My dog left my life at a bad time and very suddenly. I think what hurts most is watching my other dog actually cry in emotional pain. She was there when Cherry passed and sat with me as I lay with her body, crying, for 3 hours. I just knew if I let go, it would be time to take her away from me forever. I keep wishing I had a paw print of hers, a wad of her fur that bothered me for years but today I wish I was covered in it. I couldn't care less about what I lost to get my baby back in my life. I don't think anyone could have prepared me for what I am feeling today or have been feeling since. 

I spoke to my neighbour today, and I told him that it's harder to lose my dog thank a human being because there are so many faults in a person, but none in an animal. The love that I felt from Cherry is love that I doubt I can replace. I will never try to replace her but I will forever miss her. 

I love you my Cherry tree; I will forever miss you.

Broken-hearted. 

Rest in peace my baby.

I never knew a friendship like this could exist. Today you left my life, but you'll never leave my heart. You were in my life since I was sixteen. You were there through my lows and highs. You always loved me; even when I didn't love myself. You gave me a reason to smile everyday. You were my shoulder to cry on. I love you forever and always. Till we meet again. My baby, Cherry Elle; rest in paradise. 

We all bleed red.

How beautiful is the love between a person and their beliefs? I was driving today and saw this beautiful temple, made from white marble. It was like a piece of art in the concrete jungle. 

I find the love we can have for something more "devine" or the faith we have in something that we cannot prove can be absolutely beautiful. I just wish more people would accept that their belief doesn't trump someone else's belief.  

I wish we lived in a world more accepting of all religions, theists and atheists. Whatever you believe is okay. Whomever you want to pray to, or choose not to pray to, it is okay. 

One of the most private and unique thing about one is their spirituality, or the lack of it. It is absolutely the most sincere thing that one can share with you. If someone ever tells you about what they believe in, be kind, and be open; for your spirituality might be just as foreign to them. 

I am not a religious person, but I do have respect for those who have their beliefs but never push it on others. 

Yesterday I looked at the news, I wish I could count on one hand the amounts of conflicts between neighbours in the world. They're about religion, money, and power. All of which humans have been obtaining through wars for thousands of years. I know that most religions, atleast all of the Abrahamic ones, teach to love thy neighbour, I don't see a part in any religion that says, kill them if they don't believe in me. And if they do, do you question it? 

All of this makes me worried about the future of our generations to come. What a sad world. So beautiful but so violent and sad. 

I'm attracted to assholes

I certainly have a type, assholes. Yes, assholes are my type. If they weren't, I would have been single forever. 

Even the nice ones are assholes once the glitter wears off. It's like with everything in life. You see, when it snows and the sun shines on the snow; it looks absolutely beautiful. Cold but beautiful. When it melts, it too turns to shitty mud. Shitty, icy, salty mud. 

When picking who to spend your energy on, we must first try to find our happiness. If we settle our happiness in others, we end up broken once they decide that you aren't satisfying their happiness. 

You don't know what you seek until you're done knowing who you are. It sounds like a bunch of philosophical bullshit (it is mostly), but it still does portray a nice message. 

I, too, once wondered if I will meet the right person to be with forever. I now am certain that I will only find someone moderately tolerable after I find what the hell my own purpose is. Who the hell am I? Am I an asshole?

"What religion are you?"

I am not my religion. My beliefs are somewhat connected to a religion, humanity. I am a human before I am part of any religion. This question seems so irrelevant and useless to me. What difference does it make to anyone where and how I decide to worship or be spiritual, or if at all? One thing I never will understand is the importance of religion to our world. Like I've heard one very wise man say, "one day, there'll be no religion, we will have a happier world to live in". And I believe this thoroughly. Not because I do not like religion, but because it is used as a crutch too often to justify things that are inhumane. As soon as your religion is none of anyone else's business, the world will become a more peaceful place. Keep it in your heart and not on your lips. 

Bye 25; life is beautiful.

It's my final 6.5 hours at 25; and God, has it been a journey. It has been up and down. But I thank God for every moment.  In my last few years, as a conscious adult, I've lived. I've loved, I've lost, I laughed, I've beamed, I've cried, and I've shattered. Every moment has been beautiful, some poetically, some in a sorrowful way. But every moment has carved me into whatever I've become today. I am a woman. I am a warrior. I may not kneel down to every request; and I do not back down to anything that may poke a hole into my soul. I fight and I love; I do it all. I am a woman. And thank God I am.