Staying in Hashem is full of tears, literally, image-allerelly, I could not cope with the weeping. I had to make a face of him, so the face is like a martian, kinda whiter with no hair on his head, like the little brahim whose feet were washed by Krishna,
And so I leave Hashem well alone.
I'm not as bad. Just; not as clever.
I struggle to memorise simple arabic verbs.
I got it down! After being in and out, for a week. I've got a new head, it can go out walking and remember what it's read. Naktub, Yaktubuunna, Taktubuuunna Present tense plural, Yaktubna, Taktubna.
I repented the day after Eid Muburak, someone was having a party across the road, playing loud Indian music, and then repeating some European pop-hit with heathen words, obviously.;; obviously stupid heathen words.
I didn't come back to my own knowledge.
I just relaxed.
I didn't want to be seen praying, so when I prostrated in the dark I hummed, and crawled around looking for a pen on the floor.
I sat on stairs outside in the sun, and screwed up Fatihah and Ikhlas.
So I went and washed and got the Koran down from the top of the wardrobe, where it mixes with my notes and the other Korans.
I sat in front of laptop with book on knees. I stuck up an old list on the wall with a flyer of a camel going across the desert, covering a decade - old pencil drawing of a girl in a cloak, hair flying in wind, Exodus scribbled across.
I sat with the Koran on my knees, and spoke to Hashem.
In minutes, well, seconds are minutes to me. I asked for forgiveness. I didn't expect anything.
I swore when I got an answer.
The book became covered in a starry SILVER LIGHT. SO MANY WORDS.
I could see so many words in the parts of the little glitter stars. And without.
Any Black Magic, or Evocations,
From Myself.
I saw;
Two very, very, thin silver arms, with silver hands, grasp the book, opposite me, holding onto the book that I held.
"I don't want to hear you..."
"I can't hear you..."
What I thought was Koran was Death. I didn't understand the words. I didn't like myself. I was dead.
So, I made an effort to hear something;
I heard;
"THIS BOOK IS BEAUTIFUL...AND YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL."
I went outside to smoke. Trying to make something tell me all the words, but refusing to listen.
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