The poeticism of death.

A simple question on Facebook that I presented looked into my interest of rather dark concepts. I asked: ‘Is it easier to talk about dark things over fairly light things? If that makes any sense. Like, is it easier to talk about the beauty of death, and stuff like that more so than the beauty of life?’

The responses were all rather understandable. But from a ‘reality’ point of view. And maybe not even that. From a general world view. Again, this is probably going to have me viewed as crazy again, but ah well, I’m a travelling freak-show and the world is my audience. Despite referring to morbid concepts in general, I’m going to touch up on the darkest concept- Death. How fun for a Friday night. Most people are out, and I’m here talking about death.

Anyway, to me death is a rather beautiful thing. Poetically. In reality, death is everywhere, and it can be a scary thing to think about. Ones own death, or rather, ones own mortality. See, the idea of death is beautiful to me because there is just no way you can do any anything about. It’s something that we will all experience. There is no control over death. It could come and hit you right now, and you would have nothing to do about it! Isn’t that somewhat beautiful in itself? For your world to just become nothing? You disappear from everything, including yourself. I don’t know. I just find something poetic in that. I guess I like the concept of death because it’s the complete end for all of us. Something that bonds us all together isn’t just life, but death too.

Why must we make it such a taboo subject? I, as a Muslim am fully aware and completely comfortable with the knowledge that I’m going to die. I’m afraid of what happens in the after life, but I’m definitely not afraid of dying. Why? Cos there’s nothing you can do. It’s the ultimate form of surrender. Death doesn’t  pick on you, it comes. Death doesn’t barter, nor does it receive bribes. You are taken, and everything you own is no longer relevant. Your family, friends, possessions. Nothing means a damn thing any more. I just find it so poetic. Don’t you? People say, ‘But I don’t want to die now’ and I just think, ‘But you have no control over it… so why bother panicking?’ It’s as if people really haven’t thought that there is literally NOTHING you can do. You’re dead. done. no two ways about it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love life. Life is fantastic. But that’s just one side of the coin, right? Of course I’m excited to be alive, but to be completely satisfied with life, you have to be completely aware that death could come any-time. However, you have to believe that despite being paranoid of the imminence of ones death, you have to be comfortable with what you have achieved in your life. People don’t see the beauty in death maybe because they don’t want to lose control, or they don’t want to die with regret. Well, whatever the reason, death doesn’t care. It will come for you, as with all of us. Accept it my friend, and the world will open up to you much more.

Feel free to like, star, comment, follow me, whatever~

For now- Safiibox out!

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The Liebster Award!! Magic!

liebster-awardHere we go. The Liebster award. Sound special. But isn’t. It’s simply one of those ‘Tag a friend OMG this is so cool’ things, and even though I act like I hate them, I’ve always wanted to be included in one at least once. I must thank Gratia @http://gratia17.wordpress.com/  for the nomination, and for the subsequent barrage of views that followed afterwards! Thank you~~ and give her blog a check. I’m still fairly new to the community, but seeing a couple of Gratias’ posts, I like how she thinks, and how she writes. You can feel her excitement in the writing, and to me, if you can feel any sort of emotion in writing, then the writer has done a good job.

Next.the rules! Have a read below. That’s all. SImple as.

Rules for accepting the Liebster Award

  1. Post the award on your blog (check.)
  2. Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to their blog (would have done this anyway out of courtesy, so check.)
  3. Write 11 random facts about yourself.
  4. Nominate 11 bloggers who you feel are deserving of the award and have less than 200 followers. (I don’t know of enough people, so I did anyone I could get my hands on.)
  5. Answer the 11 questions posted by the blogger who nominated you and ask your nominees 11 questions.

11 random facts about me

Facts? Oh snap… Here we go.

1. I am an introvert. A heavy introvert. But also a performer. When I’m at home, I’m introverted. I’m comfortable. Relaxed. I can be myself, and by ‘myself’ I mean a complete recluse. I love my own space at home. I crave it, at least once a day. Too much interaction tires me out in general, and home is where I return to recharge, gather my thoughts and to store all of my eccentricity for the next day when I go outside.

2.The ‘outside’ me is the performer. All of the energy that I gathered the night before is released when I’m outside. I don’t just don a new shade of confidence, no. I am completely different. Outgoing, chatty, eccentric. I am performing as soon as I step one foot out of the door. I don’t walk, I strut. I don’t look, I gaze. Everything I do is done with some kind of flair and dramatics. It’s just what I’ve done since becoming a bit comfortable with myself.

3. I am practically married to music. Me and music are forever tied. When I want to escape from the confines of this world, I just play some ambient music (Akira Yamaoka- producer of the Silent Hill soundtracks, for example) and simply escape. Into my own little fantasy land. It’s just so blissful. Being completely enveloped by your fantasies and dreams. If you’ve never done it, ie escaped from reality, then do so. But do it healthily. No drugs business.

4. I am a Muslim I am proud to be Muslim Having been born into my religion, finding that reason to stay committed has of course been a bit rocky. I’ve of course questioned why I do certain things. Who hasn’t? But when I feel like things aren’t what I think, I get a nice little divine push in the right direction. No joke. If it wasn’t for these little miracles so to speak, my faith wouldn’t be as strong as it is now. I’m not saying it’s a strong as it could be, but for what it’s worth, and compared to before, I do have more faith.

5. I am fairly dark in the way I think about things. The idea of death and the like does not upset me, or put me on edge. I’m fairly comfortable with the idea of death, blood, rotting. I really like dark, gritty things. I don’t know why, but it’s just the way I like to see things. I like to write about dark and gritty things. Not realistically gritty and dark, more fantastical, but it has to be twisted and just… morbid. Yeah. Morbidity. I like it.

6. I have major respect problems. I will give anyone respect. don’t get me wrong. BUT! If I sense even a degree of patronization, then I’m turning sarcastic. Straight up.I don’t know when I got this mindset, but It’s both helped and hindered me. I can easily talk to someone, and even have a debate with them in a calm, collected, adult-like voice. If you then switch on the condescending ‘know your place’ voice, then I’m going to rebel and give you all the attitude you don’t want. We both end up losers that way.

7. I can only do something if it’s really going to benefit me down the line. I don’t like learning about things because it’s ‘nice to know’. No. If I wanted to do that, I would use my knowledge to go on those stupid game shows. See how much I get from learning about stuff that’s ‘nice to know’. Hah! I don’t think so. If it doesn’t benefit me, it’s not going to be researched. Detrimental mindset I know. But…

8. When it comes to something I’m interested in, I go full force. I like to completely swamp myself in information. Essentially drown in it. I research everything about that topic. EVERYTHING. Nothing escapes me. So although I skip out on general knowledge, when it comes to specific knowledge, I become fluent in it, in a hectic kind of way.

9. I am learning how to sing and play the piano. I figured that I need a new project, and I also have a message to share to the world. If I can make a career out of what I write and use it as a platform to reach out to people who have experienced lives similar to mine, and who think the same, then I will feel like I have done something not just for the world, but fr myself, and for my place in the hereafter. So long as I have honest intentions, and write about my self, and my life as a Muslim, and as a human being, then I will be content. No drugs, no sex, no money. But singing about actual human things. Love, Pain, suffering, identity. My songs will be reflections of me. Pure and simple.

10. I am a night owl. I work best at night. Always have, always will. My whole family is like that actually. I like it. The night is my friend. It’s my time to shine when its night-time.

11. I have experienced many languages before. English (native), Surti dialect of Gujarati (mother tongue nd should be native in that too), Arabic (can read), French, German (high school competence), Japanese (my major), Korean (went for a month), Chinese and Cantonese (very very small amounts), Spanish (learning currently) and Italian (Only little phrases). I think the way to any person is through their language, and more importantly, their accent. you could be fluent in their language, but unless you have their accent, you will never be seen as integrated. However, this usually only applies for European countries. Asian countries are a bit iffy with these things…

Nominate 11 blogs

I don’t know enough people for this! But I’ll do my best.

http://poeticallyspoken.wordpress.com
http://eyewillnotcry.wordpress.com
http://chestermaynes.wordpress.com
http://zlifewithme.wordpress.com
http://aislingphilippa.wordpress.com
http://alexinbookland.wordpress.com
http://pttmnn.wordpress.com
http://takingthemaskoff.wordpress.com
http://MannyRutinel.com
http://havethewritestuff.wordpress.com
http://stepheusebi.com

Sorry guys… You probably don’t want this. 

11 Questions to me

  1. What was the last thing you photographed and when was it? Myself, on a train, this Monday returning home from university.
  2. If you had to choose another name for yourself, what would it be? Hmm… Always liked Maximilian. I’ll go for Maximilian.
  3. What did you do last weekend? Dissertation… cry…
  4. Which song have you not been able to get enough of this week? Song… more like songs. That question is unanswerable. Sorry..
  5. Coffee or tea? Tea. I’m British.
  6. Favourite holiday? Italy when I was 14. Best one yet.
  7. Favourite quote? I don’t think I have one. I like my own quote though- ‘Regret is for the weak‘. Unless that’s taken from someone…
  8. When was the last time you received a handwritten letter from someone? From an old pen pal friend… who I didn’t respond to… cos I’m a very bad person…
  9. Describe your perfect day. Rain, thunder, gas fire on, blanket, with complete control over my creativity.
  10. What language do you wish you could speak? Many… I’m very much a lover of languages. However, I would love to speak my mother tongue efficiently. Surti Gujarati.
  11. What was the last dream you had about? My old high school. Everything had changed.. and that made me a tad sad. I’m no longer there. The old building was demolished, I have nothing to do with that school any more. Bizarre. I hated high school. Still do, but I guess there was some part of me that still clung onto my time there.

11 questions to you

1. What’s your favourite season?
2. What’s your favourite genre of book?
3. What influenced you to write?
4. What languages do you know/ have had experience with?
5. Where would you like to be right now?
6. What’s your pet-peeve?
7. Early bird or Night Owl?
8. Introvert or extrovert?
9. Favourite Greek God/Goddess?
10. Do you prefer Chaos or Order?
11. Would you rather live by the sea, or by a lake?

Dear Diary. I hate life.

I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with this, but I want to put down what I’ve experienced this week, and let me tell you- it has not been fun.

So lets start on Monday. What a freaking train wreck. Quite literally too. Poor woman got stuck under a train… I’ve kind of come to terms with it, and despite cycling through a ‘Oh, I like morbidity’-esque mantra whenever I encounter something fictitious, and gruesome, the fact that the train disaster was indeed, a fact, made the impact of whatever occurred on that fateful night a bit stronger than expected. Check out ‘This is a tale of the night’, a previous blog for the details.

Tuesday. Another gosh darn disaster (pardon my French). Why? Well after planning to go to university to help out my Japanese teacher, I arrive at the station after walking for 20 minutes, only to find that I left my wallet… at home. AT HOME. Of all days… it seemed that God did not want me to go in so early. As I like to say, ‘He must’ve been protecting me from something‘, I don’t know… either way, I was annoyed. My mum comes to pick me up and in a moment I go from complete devotion to university to a completely lifeless camp-fire. Gone. Extinguished. All interest in Tuesday from that point on was diminished. So I went home. What can you do? Anything. What will you do though? Nothing. Don’t even lie.

Wednesday. Drunk people. Train. 8 a.m. What a lovely experience. Almost as fun as scorching your eyes with a blowtorch. SO. MUCH. FUN. Other than that? A decent day. Dissertation discussion, the joy. But yeah, a pretty decent day.

I’m getting really tired of the monotony now. Hence I’ve taken up singing and piano. Keep my mind active and focused on other things, or else I’ll be distracting myself with far less worthwhile pursuits, and for someone in my position, the opportunity to turn anything I learn into a solid building block into a new path of whatever could help me far more than hinder.

How has your week been? Your day? Got any questions? Have a random comment? Give this a like, star, share, re-blog, whatever. Have a good day/night and I’ll talk again soon.

Safiibox out!

This is a tale of the night.

Something rather strange happened to me on this bleak, cold Monday. When put that way, ‘strange’ would refer to something out of the ordinary of the ‘bleak Monday’… Lets say it again. Something rather depressing happened to me on this bleak cold Monday. On a normal commute back home from my university- University of Central Lancashire, all was well. Well, not necessarily. I power walked to the train station, just scraped the time by what could be the best of 30 seconds to board my train and other than being able to slyly manoeuvre myself around people to get to a seat, the whole thing was a shamble. Anyway, the train in general from Preston to my home town, Blackburn, that runs at this time is bad. Terrible even. Cold, old and smells of mould. Like boiled broccoli that no ones eaten. The train set off, and I was prepared to be home in about 25 minutes maximum. Boy was I wrong…

Here comes the bleak part. About 5 minutes into the journey, the emergency brakes were slammed down and the train came to an abrupt stop. ‘What happened?’ Many of us questioned. I, a cynical 21-year-old just thought that the train was being senile again and lost its ability to function… typical. (Northern Rail- fix yourselves!) But no… this was not it. What had happened was far more gruesome.

A woman somehow, and sadly, managed to have caught herself up in an affair with a moving train going at full speed. She was hit and dragged under it towards the second carriage and under the toilet. Her body was found, twisted amongst the wheels. The driver was distraught and was unable to drive afterwards. He must have seen much more than expected. We didn’t really know what to do We couldn’t do anything. We were on lock-down, limited to just one action: Waiting. We waited and waited, cherishing what little information we had as a means of mild entertainment and to satiate our sick sense of curiosity. It was a fairly short 2 hours mind you. There was funnily, enough stuff going on to keep one distracted. Me, well, my distraction was my music, and my lyrics. This post is for one such set of lyrics. But I just want to say that whatever this woman was going through to have this kind of end is extremely sad. I’m not assuming it was suicide. It could’ve been anything, but there was obviously a reason behind her being hit by a train, and whatever that reason is, I feel a certain sense of despair and dread…

Here are the lyrics to This is a tale of the night. A little poem/song I wrote whilst waiting. Nothing else to do, and good practice for myself on gathering inspiration from anything. So, without further ado!

This is a tale of the night

This is a tale of the night
An unfortunate, unholy sight
What was once meant to be smooth
Not even a mothers words could soothe

This is a tale of the night
Blood trailing down the headlights
Stuck in between two lands
Something ripped out from our hands

Where are we going?
Where will we head
This is a sad story
A story of the dead

This is a tale of the night
A tale even sense cannot fight
Sirens ringing in the air
Distracting us from the nightmare

This is a tale of the night
Sleepless from complete fright
Driver scarred from all his fears
From a body twisted around the wheels

Where are we going?
Where will we head
This is a sad story
A story of the dead

This is a tale of the night…
This is a tale of the night…

Well, here we have it. I would like to add more, but for now, I think this will suffice. I hope you enjoyed the poem/song, but I would like to say that God is the best of planners. If he wants to take your life away, you can be damn sure he will take your life away. It was her today, it could be me, or you tomorrow… Let’s just cherish life as much as we can, and make sure that when we are taken away, we have nothing to be afraid of.

Safiibox out.

Steps

I have a new song for y’all. Well, it’s a poem… But with the potential of being transformed into a song when put into a musical context. ‘Steps’ should be fairly easy to to understand. It’s a pretty shallow set of lyrics, but it covers a sensitive topic for a lot of people who go through this.

Although I have not been personally affected by such a situation, I want people to understand that we all feel your pain, and although we can’t grasp fully what you’re feeling, from an outsiders perspective, things like this are extremely tough. I wish I could write more deep and meaningful lyrics, but that comes with experience and research. I could maybe go on the stance that I am writing as someone who’s trying to feel what they feel, which in turn makes my lyrics shallow, as I know nothing.

Anyway. Here goes- Steps.

Verse 1

1, 2, 3 and 4
Pause, blink, listen some more
Words hurled across the room
Their voices: loud, boom boom

5, 6, 7 and 8
mum, dad I’ve opened the gate
oh look I’m going to fall
are you going to heed my call?

Chorus:
Mummy
Whats wrong today?
You smile less and less
Just sit down and play
Daddy
Are you okay?
Will you not hug me
I’ll brighten your day

Verse 2

9, 10, 11 and 12
Look, I’ve knocked something off of the shelf
Come on and chase me, I’ll go hide
Please don’t forget, come find me this time

13, 40, 50 and 10
reaching my room, I listen again
mummy’s footsteps she’s coming for me
I wonder right now what game this could be

Mummy
Whats wrong today?
You smile less and less
Come sit down and play
Daddy
Are you okay?
Will you not hug me
I’ll brighten your day

repeat

Mummy and daddy
I love you
Don’t leave me…

And there we have it. Hopefully the message transmits well enough. Have a read, have a thought, give me a like, comment, star, and I’ll see you guys later~

For now, Safiibox out!

Blessed

After a nice long heart-to-heart with my sister and mother, A bunch of things have been made aware to me. Perhaps I have been thinking rather bizarrely. Despite being ridiculously stubborn and having a nasty case of ‘bad attitude’, I listen to those who talk to me like a human being. I do have respect for my family, regardless of how crazy they make me. See, up until this point I wasn’t really thinking clearly of what I wanted, or why I was doing the things I do. Perhaps I’m being somewhat vague and hard to understand.. perhaps It’s the time of day, or something, but let me make sense of what’s in my head by writing it out.

I recently told my family of my somewhat naive plans to learn the piano, to sing and spread my message across the world to pave the way to a new generation of outsiders to be happy of who they are. Now although this dream is admirable, there were certain things wrong with it. Now as a muslim the whole idea of my life, and it’s purpose is to work towards the life after death and reach the lofty heights of heaven. I very much want that… If you’re religious, who doesn’t? And the talk got me thinking, am I really working towards heaven by caring about the mark I put on this world? Trying to change this world, a world that could easily be destroyed , trying to change my life, a life so easily erased. I want to create a legacy, where people will see me as the one who changed the world. I figured music would grant me that opportunity. Creative and crazy enough to spread your love across to those who listen to you, but if your music actually had depth, feelings, genuine emotions, so much more could be achieved. To actually wake someone up from the life they live and snap them back to their senses. That desire still exists with me, but I lacked a certain quality. My religion: Islam.

From now on, if I have an intention, I’m going to dedicate purely to my creator. He has guided, and will continue to guide me down this path of discovery and growth, and I will focus on trying to please my creator more so than myself. For the more he is pleased, the more I am. That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try to sing. If I can convey a non exploitative, explicit message through my music, there should be no wrong. I have pure intentions: to help those who aren’t understood or lost. But not just for the introverts, but for those who are like me. Born into a religion with no idea how to live as an actual muslim because we’ve never known anything more. Lost sheep, we need to be guided, I feel, to the greater good. We are a generation, lost and entwined in a society that makes living a daily struggle. Insha Allah, if I can, I can help us get through the inner turmoil of confusion and despair. No longer drifting from one thing to the next in desperate hopes for salvation and inner peace. Inner peace is granted through your peace with your religion, If you are in turmoil with your deepest core, you will never be at ease. I want to be that person who inspires muslims, or anyone to be the best they can be, but for their creator or whoever they choose, and to then to be happy with the thought of making their creator or whoever happy. That’s what I want. If I can make this dream work, I’m gonna work my hardest to keep it alive. Not just for me, but for those I want to help, and ultimately, for my creator. Yes.
This reflects just one side of my new found ideals, but I have work to do, so I shall update thee at a later date!
Oh, and sorry for the length, but yeah.. Safiibox out!

What am I today?

Yesterday, after looking at what personality traits we feel we have, I managed to think about why I act the way I do. Now to those who’ve seen me outside, you may or may not know that I am a completely different person at home. I’m not sure if that’s with everyone, but I will give you an explanation of what I mean.

See, with everyone, there is a thing known as ‘your second face’. I.e, The facade you put on the outside to show people. Pretty simple stuff. Do we all do it? I’m not sure, but I sure as hell do. I always thought, after Japan, that I was being true to myself. True to my character. True to the person I am at home. But I realised, I’m not even true to myself at home… and that kind of scares me. Don’t get me wrong, I am me. But this ‘me’ consists of a few core values that are unquestionably ‘Safwan’. stubbornness, drive, among others. But these qualities are few and far between. The rest of me is not so easy to pinpoint. I feel like I’m a performer. I put on so many suits and disguises that I can rarely see me as me. Even now. I adapt and manipulate these traits so much so that they have become me in more than just unique situations.LIke my confidence. At home, I don’t feel I have any. I’m very much in my own bubble at home, thinking about all of the things that I’ve encountered during the day as well as recharging from the ‘Safwan’ I show as soon as I step outside.

The outside ‘Safwan’ is also me. But this me is essentially the opposite of at home ‘Safwan’. I have charisma, confidence, well, I am essentially a different person. And when I mean different, I mean different. I can’t put my finger on it, but trust me when I say, I’m different. I just flip into a brand new person. A form of multiple personality disorder, but one I can control. Other people are consistent with themselves. What you see is what you get, right? Well not with me. I’m a goody-bag with an assortment of tricks and hidden compartments that reveal themselves to different people. You want to see a ‘Safwan’ who’s loud, confident, but motivational? Sure- here he is. Do you want a ‘Safwan’ who’ll be by your side through thick and thin and patient with you? Got it covered. Want a ‘Safwan’ who’s embarrassing to be with, makes you laugh but suffers from self-doubt? Coming right up!

Is this just me? Can you shift around your personality trait(s) like this? Mixing and matching. Pairing one thing up with another. Yes? No? Feel free to comment, like, star, and visit my other posts too~ Yayy.

For now though, Safiibox out!

The disease called regret.

Regret… It’s such an ugly, sad little word. Who thought that something so small could cause such heartache. To the 50-year-old retired to a stale life, thinking about  the ‘what-ifs’ of his life. Or to the woman whose life just changed by skipping that one meeting. Regret is so easy to gain, but so hard to remove. Why do we choose a life of regret? Of chances missed, of futures erased, of ‘if only’s? What do we gain from regret? What do we get from the pain of never telling her ‘I love you’ before it’s too late? To never saying ‘I want you’, or ‘I want this’, I’ll ask you again. What do we get?

We dream of such grand endeavors only to crush them ourselves. We grow up dreaming to be doctors, nurses, and yes, those dreams may not last, you may grow out of them, but what of those who still dream. Who live in that fantasy, where we can be whoever we wan to be. Where we can fly our kites and play and run around without any consequence. Where are those feelings again? Why do we doubt, and stop ourselves? Are we not already aware of how cruel a life of regret is?

I used to say that I regret nothing. But I was wrong. I do regret. I regret my foolishness. I regret my weakness. I regret not being proud of myself. To let the others win. To turn myself down just for the illusion of ‘fitting in’. I’m only 21 years old, but for me, this regret is painful to live with. Despite being 21, I feel like I’ve missed out a whole life of opportunities. I could have been so different, I could have accepted myself, I could have been much more…

Yes I regret.. but I’m 21. I still have a life. I can still fight for that dream. Claw myself back from the abyss of ‘what-if’s and ‘should have’s and I can still turn myself around. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that I don’t live my life with regret anymore. I’m going to fight, and strive, and become the person I’ve always wanted to be. Even more. This is my life to take control of, and trust me, I will.

To those who have read. I want you to do the same. Think about the thing you want. Not the thin you settles for. What do you truly wan to be/ It may be crazy, but no one is ever sane. It may be a dream, but dreams can also come true. Don’t settle for less, because regret will choke you. Just take the plunge and you’ll never know what could happen.

Sorry for the long wall of text.. My mind’s been shot. Entwined in webs of thoughts and sentiments. Sorry, but, ah well. I’ve got to get this down somehow.

Thank you, but Safiibox out!

I want change, and I WILL get it.

After a sudden epiphany struck me yesterday, I have come to the conclusion that the life I am living, and could eventually be living is, bizarrely, not for me.

You may be thinking- ‘what are you on about now?’ or ‘don’t we all feel that?’ and perhaps I am going a bit crazy and perhaps we all do in fact have these thoughts once in a while, but I implore you to give me a chance to explain myself.

See, ever since I came back from Japan, I realised what I wanted in life. I want to be known for what I do for this world. I want to be a cause for change. I want to pave the way for a new mindset, a new generation of people who aren’t like the society we are tied to. A society where we are free to do as we please, be eccentric, weird, and quirky, but have those names give us confidence instead of harming us. I want to be one of those minds who are hailed as ‘this generations finest’ and to have my voice and words etched into the minds of those who think like me.

I don’t see myself resigning to the life of mediocrity, stuck behind a desk serving authority. I want to be free from the shackles of societal pressure, where I can strut down the street in an elegant manner. I want to live a life where my soul is at peace, not locked up in my mind like a bird in a cage desperately trying to escape. I want my voice to be heard, and not just in a blog. I want to make those who feel shunned from society, the wallflowers, the geeks, the nerds, and all those who are sent to the grey area of ‘different’ to embrace their life and their gifts and to dance around in a flurry of love for themselves. That’s what I want to do. So, I figured, if I am to make this dream come true, I’m going to do it in the most creative way and to me, the most comfortable way possible. I’m going to learn the piano (after not touching one for ages), write my songs/ poems, get some singing tuition and try my best to represent those who aren’t like the rest- those whose personalities must be suppressed.

That is my new dream, and I feel strongly about this one. No more twiddling my thumbs at the thought of ‘what to do in the future’,. The thing I want to be in the future? Well, the thing I want to be in the future- I want to BE the future. and I want all of us to live in a colourful, vivid world, full of flare and awe. That’s what I want from now on, and I would love any support I get.

This is something from deep inside of me, and I want people to know that I am all for this cause. Feel free to comment, like, star, whatever, if you feel the same. Do you want to be proud of your quirks, or cram them deep inside a box for no one to see?

Anyway, that’s enough from me for today.. I’ll see you guys around. Safiibox out!

Land of the Rising Sun

This is a new song, poem, whatever, and it’s about the country we all love and adore- Japan! Now These thoughts have been bubbling and stewing in my mind for a long time now, and it would irritate me to not know of any way to release it. Writing an essay about it wouldn’t have helped, and when spoken, I would be so erratic that I often lost myself in my own verbal diarrhoea. However, through the new outlet- song-writing, I have been able to summarize one aspect of Japan that affected me Being a foreigner.

Yes, this song is to all of those gaijin (foreigner) friends/ people who’ve felt lost, misunderstood and out-of-place, but yet treated somewhat ‘specially’, which I’m sure is everyone… of course! This song reflects one aspect of experiences in Japan, and a little jab at the old me who thought he could be like a Japanese person based on being half-asian himself. Please have a read and give me your thoughts. I welcome all feedback, so long as you understand my message.

Anyway, here it is: Land of the Rising Sun.

In the land of the rising sun
Bathed in perpetual night-time
Glimmers of hopes and dreams
Blocked out by the skyline
I was bound to a four by four prison
I was shackled to a deadline
Wanting to break myself free
From the tedium and endless grind

I am more than what I am worth here
As a different face from you all
I am not an animal- stared at
I have a life that’s rich and whole
I am more than what you are seeing
An attraction, a toy, a game
I am a light in the sea of darkness
But that light comes with a name

‘Oh wow’ ‘Oh look’ ‘Who’s there?’
Their faces are different
So let’s act like we care

Do the have feelings? Do they have hopes?
‘Escaping your country’ I’m sure you have thought
You think you belong here, but please heed my words
You are not one of us- merely colourful birds

You shovel up our values
You pick up our ways
Thinking the closer you are
Will make us lower our gaze
But trust what I say
What you learn everyday
Makes no difference
In any kind of way

You are more than what you are worth here
As a different face from us all
You are not an animal- stared at
You have a life that’s rich and whole
You are more than what we are seeing
An attraction, a toy, a game
You are a light in the sea of darkness
But that light comes with a name

I thought I could have belonged,
In this haven I could’ve been strong
I would be free from my old life
Escape from the turmoil and strife
But at the end it’s all gone wrong
In this haven I could’ve been strong
It’s all gone…

I am more than what I am worth here
As a different face from you all
I am not an animal stared at
I have a life that’s rich and whole
I am more than what you are seeing
An attraction, a toy, a game
I am a light in the sea of darkness
But that light comes with a name…
But that light come with a name…
But that light comes with a… name…

And that’s that. Tell me what you think, etc, give it a star, like, re-blog it, share it, whatever. But I hope you enjoyed reading it, and I hope you understand what I mean. If not, then just drop me a question and I will gladly answer!

Thank you
And for now Safiibox out!