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I hate money.

Well, more accurately, I hate not having money.

It's not that I'm a rich boy who gets pouty whenever his dad didn't buy him the latest CoD game. It's more I'm a son of a busboy who can't control money. It's not fun to admit that, it never is. I go to a school where my classmates parents are lawyers, doctors, teachers, technicians, etc... I'm the kid in the corner whose mom doesn't get a job because it's religiously sanctioned. I'm the kid who can't pay $10,000 a year for college while others are paying $30,000.

But that's not what hurts. What hurts is going to my parents bank account - I pay their bills online since they're not tech savvy - and knowing that we barely have enough to pay the bills. Every time the water bill lands on my desk, my heart skips a beat because I know that's going to take a lot out. I know my dad’s weekly wages and his weekly expenses. They don't match up, not by a long shot. Living in a house because everybody else was buying one is biting us in the ass right now. Well, it always has. Having to pay thousands of dollars of maintenance cost and worrying about tenants paying their rent on time scratches away at our years. I hate not having money. I need it to support my family, to support myself. And I know that money is such a big part of life, more than passion will ever be.

It sucks.

What comes afterwards

Whenever I’m asked the question of whether or not I’m afraid of death – and I get asked that more often than not – I usually answer with no. And I’ve been thinking about that question recently, about whether or not death is something to be afraid of. I personally don’t find it scary, not the concept of death. What I do find scary is what comes afterwards. Rather, the uncertainty of what comes afterwards. A few years ago, I considered myself religious. A Muslim, if anybody needed clarification. With that particular faith comes the belief that there exists a heaven and hell, controlled by a God. Good people, in accordance to the Quran and Sunnah, are sent to the heaven while the bad are sent to hell. A majority of people will go to hell, and that’s not just the cynicism talking. I guess that supports the view that there are a lot of shitty people on this Earth. But recently, due to outward influence, I’ve been questioning faith. With that comes the uncertainty that causes my strife. Is there a heaven and hell? Or do we just slip into nothingness after death, and do our bodies just decay? That’s what scares me, not knowing what comes afterwards.

Before you jump to any conclusions, know that I’m not against any faith. I respect all religions and views, as long as people aren’t dicks about it. What I believe may not be right. It may not be wrong either. Nevertheless, what I believe in dictates how I’ll live my life. If I think that this is just a rollercoaster I’ll try to enjoy it as much as I can before I make it to the end. Or before my seat belt fails me and I fall. Hopefully not the latter. But if there is some sort of hierarchy at the end waiting to judge my life, I want to live it in accordance to whatever hierarchy is imposed.

That way I get the best of what comes afterwards. But not knowing is a conundrum. How am I supposed to live? Should I go around and live life to the fullest? Or do I have to cower in modesty and fear of being judged poorly? All these things determine how I take the next step forward. It’s scary not knowing how to move forward. It’s even scarier thinking that the wrong move might lead to something horrifying, an end no one can begin to fathom.