thurzday, furburrry 17, 2005.
assalamu alaikum :) (my mom cant say feb-u-wary)
bismillah.
ring ring ring. "please, let this be a dream." but no, this was reality. my old brick sized SIM-less cell phone, which now doubled as my alarm clock, sat there ringing nonstop. damn that annoying bell. i heeded its call to awaken but it paid no attention to my desire to have five more minutes of sleep! i had to put an end to it. eyes still half shut, i somehow managed to overcome my lethargic state and pull my arm out from underneath my blanket, which by the way felt like 7565 lbs. with it outstretched, the quest to locate that phone had begun. wherever my arm would reach i patted, for the limits were not endless (obviously, seeing that my arm couldnt extend over a certain distance due to the length of my bones): i inspected the crevice between the headboard and mattress; i dove deep in and explored the pile of clothes sitting on my bed (i didnt find my the phone but i did manage to find the remote control teeheee); i...i... knocked over my glass of water. all this hard work however was done in vain. where could it be? where was that damn sound coming from?!?!?!? i tried to tune it out for a second but i just couldnt overcome it! there i lay, lost in absolute darkness with my face resting in a pool of my own saliva. i felt pathetic, but what choice did i have? i was too tired to do anything. finally, the phone shut up. the misery, pain, and anguish had ended. i soon forgot about my expericence and managed to doze off. that period of sleep though was short-lived, seeing how my mother barged in yelling at me to wake up. "five more minutes" i cried out. she threatened to slap so i jumped up. lo and behold, there was the phone. it was under me the whole time. i wanted to throw it across the room, but good thing i didnt because by the colossal size of that antique, it would have gone straight threw the wall and hit my mother in the head. and you do not want to hit my mother in the head with an old cell phone. especially at 6 am. because she WILL chase you with a shoe in one hand, and chai cup in the other.
so i got up, prayed fajr, decided not to go to my 8 am islam class, then went back to sleep. a couple hours later i woke up to the playful laughter of my nephews hiding in my closet. music to my ears. they often come into my room in the morning and just goof around. im so lucky, alhamdulillah.
the rest of my day was just like any other typical day, except for the sensation which occurred around zhur time. yes, a sister joined haffiz morebeans and myself in jamaat. later on morebeans messaged me on AIM with the following:
more beans: dude, we should always pray zuhr over there, good things are bound to happen
the kid cracks me up sometimes.
we then got a chance to meet akbar mohammad, son of elijah muhammad and friend of malcolm x aka hajji malik shabazz. now thats not an everyday occurrence.
an updated they wanted, and an update they got.
ma'salama
sheik speare, faqhi of love.
bismillah.
ring ring ring. "please, let this be a dream." but no, this was reality. my old brick sized SIM-less cell phone, which now doubled as my alarm clock, sat there ringing nonstop. damn that annoying bell. i heeded its call to awaken but it paid no attention to my desire to have five more minutes of sleep! i had to put an end to it. eyes still half shut, i somehow managed to overcome my lethargic state and pull my arm out from underneath my blanket, which by the way felt like 7565 lbs. with it outstretched, the quest to locate that phone had begun. wherever my arm would reach i patted, for the limits were not endless (obviously, seeing that my arm couldnt extend over a certain distance due to the length of my bones): i inspected the crevice between the headboard and mattress; i dove deep in and explored the pile of clothes sitting on my bed (i didnt find my the phone but i did manage to find the remote control teeheee); i...i... knocked over my glass of water. all this hard work however was done in vain. where could it be? where was that damn sound coming from?!?!?!? i tried to tune it out for a second but i just couldnt overcome it! there i lay, lost in absolute darkness with my face resting in a pool of my own saliva. i felt pathetic, but what choice did i have? i was too tired to do anything. finally, the phone shut up. the misery, pain, and anguish had ended. i soon forgot about my expericence and managed to doze off. that period of sleep though was short-lived, seeing how my mother barged in yelling at me to wake up. "five more minutes" i cried out. she threatened to slap so i jumped up. lo and behold, there was the phone. it was under me the whole time. i wanted to throw it across the room, but good thing i didnt because by the colossal size of that antique, it would have gone straight threw the wall and hit my mother in the head. and you do not want to hit my mother in the head with an old cell phone. especially at 6 am. because she WILL chase you with a shoe in one hand, and chai cup in the other.
so i got up, prayed fajr, decided not to go to my 8 am islam class, then went back to sleep. a couple hours later i woke up to the playful laughter of my nephews hiding in my closet. music to my ears. they often come into my room in the morning and just goof around. im so lucky, alhamdulillah.
the rest of my day was just like any other typical day, except for the sensation which occurred around zhur time. yes, a sister joined haffiz morebeans and myself in jamaat. later on morebeans messaged me on AIM with the following:
more beans: dude, we should always pray zuhr over there, good things are bound to happen
the kid cracks me up sometimes.
we then got a chance to meet akbar mohammad, son of elijah muhammad and friend of malcolm x aka hajji malik shabazz. now thats not an everyday occurrence.
an updated they wanted, and an update they got.
ma'salama
sheik speare, faqhi of love.
posted by sheikspeare at 2/18/2005 02:26:00 AM
4 Comments:
..thats why everyone should adopt my technique of blocking out certain sounds.
Faqhi? dont you mean Faqih?
you havent earned the title. yet.
always leaves women asking for more. how DO you do it oh faqih of love. Share the usul my brother. let us go beyond commonalities.
Assalamu alaykum
Did the friend of Malcom X share his good looks?
wassalam
Sheik speare, what a hunk...:faint: :faint: :faint:
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