Some years ago when I was studying at University of Toronto, some people indirectly made fun of me and my religion. All this was done in a subtle way; but, I notice things easily. One day when I got home from university, I prayed to God; and, told God that I needed an outlet. I still distinctly remember that I started writing after I issued this prayer. Now, here is the fun part. I have not been exposed to poetry writing when I was a child and adolescent; I knew only how to read and interpret some amazing Urdu poems, such as the ones by Allama Iqbal. I used to focus more on mainstream music and songs; and, I used to just listen and sing back like a robot. According to article, “The emotional power of poetry: neural circuitry, psychophysiology and compositional principles” (Wassiliwizky, Koelsch, Wagner, Jacobsen, and Menninghaus, 2017), the tendency to listen to music and enjoy poetry less is due to insignificant exposure to the later art during childhood and adolescence. Now, here is what is even more intriguing. According to the above-mentioned article, poetry engages the brain regions associated with primary reward and plays a pivotal role in how emotional expression evolves. Thus, it is clear to me that although I am genetically related to some well-known poets, my ability to write poetry is a gift from God—I am even more convinced now that some of my most challenging prayers actually get accepted. I like it how one prayer altered my entire life. I cannot believe that I can somehow write poetry now although I have no real training in writing poetry. People now clap for me for pretty long—its funny how God works. Check out some of my poetry!
I have some really bad images of some men and boys in my brain simply because abusers can literally smell me and they just know I am the right target. This is why I had to do lucid dreaming therapy on myself to keep myself alive. In addition, over time, I learned how to break bad and toxic teams apart. When I am around, you will truly see two sides of life: good and bad. Only good guys and gals will stay with me at the end. You will see that this is an ongoing trend! This trend is here because people are trying to murder young women and girls. This disease is called “Female Infanticide“.
Below are some of my experiences that have changed me so that I trust men really less:
When I was a teenager, I escaped severe domestic abuse when my family immigrated to Canada from Pakistan. It was so terrifying back there!
When I was a teenager, a male relative of mine touched me inappropriately. But, because we had otherwise good relationship, I was able to immediately stop him from damaging me any further. You know! He never harmed me again.
When I was living in Pakistan, I along with all the girls who used to study with me, used to get stalked by around 10 to 20 young men—that’s most of the youth who were being sent to private tuition by their parents. We didn’t knew these men because we were studying in the “girl’s only college”; but, they used to stalk, harass, and intimidate us every day we would go for tuition. We complained to one of our male teachers who told us to always move in groups and always change our route. Although these boys used to be dressed as heroes—they were well-dressed and well-groomed—they used to act like real pigs. Read article “‘No means yes’: Pakistan TV’s dangerous trend of celebrating rapists and stalkers as heroes“.
Later in Canada, I was raped by a Buddhist male who was Islamophobic and woman-hater. He is still free because he got away by confusing and scaring me. He is still alive because I believe that the Canadian system has mostly failed colored women, which is why I am not filing a report against him on purpose. Doing so would be a waste of time. Instead I am writing a book called “She: The Mirror“. I stopped communicating with him once I became okay enough to read into the entire situation. I even changed my city to get away from this person. He calls himself “The Devil”; and, I believe that men like him roam Canada freely because Canada allows them to live. I got away with extracting some information from him as well as a confession, which is going to get published in this book.
Once while walking inside a Canadian park, I was almost kidnapped by two Black men. They brought a car to lure me in. One of them intimidated me by inviting me to come to tea with him. Within seconds, the second guy brought a car while the first man kept nagging me in a high voice. I did not run; instead, I opened my cellphone and started talking to an imaginary friend. As soon as I felt better, I started running because I felt that he was going to jump at me from the back.
A class fellow of mine who just happened to be White sent me a hate mail after trying to make me talk about my personal things like my background and writing. He was bipolar and drug addict. I had to block him from social media too.
On some occasions, I was repeatedly verbally, emotionally, and psychologically harassed in different Canadian workplaces and academic organizations. Its a trend that is common among Muslim employers as well. For example, once a Muslim employer verbally and emotionally harassed me by saying, “Why are you expecting me to babysit you” when I asked him a question during training. He was away for some time during my training; and, when he came back, he said these mean words to me upon my first inquiry. Most of the time, like 80% of the time, its the men who were mistreating me. Don’t sit there and think that Muslim men are the good guys. There is only a very small number of good Muslims left. Read how a Muslim guy who claimed to be working with abused women harassed me, “Be Aware of Some Imams or Muslim Men Who Are Trying to Handle #MeToo Discussions“. This guy was politically connected and he was also running a charity in Canada. I still deleted him because I feel that it is the right thing to do. You are going to notice that I am following my judgement only simply because I have learned to see the truth through experience.
Over time, I learned to do the following in order to survive:
Read into abnormal psychology. Read my blog post, “Regeneration. Over time, I have even learned how to read into the character and behaviour of the politest women. I have recently eliminated contact with two Muslim women who promised one thing and ended up doing something else in a very lousy way.
Leak information to reliable women and men whom you have met in real life and learned to trust over time.
Create a buddy system. I run one such system through Facebook group “Forgotten Femmes“. Currently, I am paired with exactly one abused woman who is helping me learn some valuable stuff while I teach her what I already know.
Connect with a reliable lawyer and leak information for further use.
Write things down A through Z; and, I intend to release data in the form of a book whenever I am ready.
Do not connect with unreliable people. I literally block them from my social media; and, I don’t take anything from them.
Do not make any physical contact with men. Its simple! Physical contact can be used by covert criminals to choose the victims.
Speak out! One some occasions, I have extracted reference letters from employers who were mistreating me.
Over time, I have learned that narcissists and abusers target me because I am an empath. For example, once my older brother who used to psychologically torture me, said to me, “You are so fun to bug Arzoo. Its simple! You take everything so seriously. All your emotions really show”. He also stopped harassing me at the end because I challenged the shit out of him. Read article, “Dear Empaths: 4 Types of Narcissists You May Be Attracting” to see why narcissists can literally smell me. Article “Is the Narcissist Legally Insane?” shows that narcissists don’t feel responsible for their actions, which is why they can say so many mean things without feeling anything.
Being a woman isn’t easy in this world anymore—I am still alive because I am lucid. Over several years, I have found so many similar stories that are scattered throughout Canada and Pakistan that you have no idea. I have also been observing that the political/activist platform of North American Muslims and Christians is also oriented towards the men; I have noticed that some of these great figures actually hide themselves behind papers whenever they hear an abused woman cry for help”. I know that I have not met many great female Muslim speakers because they aren’t well paid or respected by their community. Read point 5 from the ordered list (second) of my blog post, “Framing and Misuse of the Canadian Muslim Women“. This is another reason why I think that there are really less good people left on Earth—good people don’t mind keeping women on the same page.
In conclusion, my overall impression of men including Muslim men is very bad. My impression of some Muslim women isn’t awesome either because I have definitely seen some Muslim women walk away when other women or girls need help—I still remember being molested by a female Muslim teenager when I was just a toddler. Despite all these routine challenges that are offered to me, I am still alive and functional because I am a champion and a lucid dreamer.
I know from my personal life experiences that champions are very different than the rest—if you observe them up close, you will fully understand a lot of tough things.
When I was younger, I saved my younger brother from being abducted. When I was introduced to the world of Martial Arts for the very first time, I was not shy about walking on a broken foot. My right foot actually broke while I sparred with a much larger sparring partner; my parents weren’t home so I had to walk back. It healed on its own over time although it was infected for a bit. There is still a mark on my right foot; and, it still functions perfectly. When I matured even further, I walked again while enduring further pain. Around five years ago, I contracted a lethal Urinary Tract Infection and another related complication. In 2018, I ran through the anaconda-like corridors of Algonquin College with these injuries as well as feet that were swollen due to edema. Most of my class fellows learned about my medical condition because they could see me in pain sometimes. I had to struggle to manage my assignments, studies, and doctors’ appointments; but, I was in the final stages of healing because I had been fighting this condition for some years now. At the end, I won this battle as my infection fully healed; and, I was placed on the Dean’s List for Event Management program. From this ordeal, I learned the significance of having a dependable team in achieving difficult and memorable tasks; I also learned the importance of believing in myself and pursuing my goals.
This is why I can relate to champions, such as Indian track and field sprinter Milkha Singh, who are not like the usual Hollywood/Bollywood/Lollywood protagonists; but, who have real struggles that make them heroic in nature. And, they are in tune with their inner self, their inner child. As an ENFP, that is my best gift. Becoming a champion simply means learning and understanding their behaviour; and, then creating similar behaviour that is unique to you but still resembles your champions’ behaviour.
When I look at my doodles, I just feel a sense of accomplishment. I have often wondered why I feel this way—its like one of those magical moments one get when one is looking at one’s heroes or crushes. According to Matt Ellis’s article, “The meaning of doodles: when a squiggle isn’t just a squiggle”, some of history’s most influential people used to doodle—lucid dreamer Carl Jung’s book “The Red Book” has doodle art. So my dream of changing people through my writing, poetry, and lucid dreams isn’t just a dream. It is an actual historic reality!
I learned doodling on my own—I was doing this even before I learned the word “doodle” and benefits of doodling. I followed a rather creative process, which included doodling with the help of my imagination; learning how to draw so that I was able to play with various shapes and faces; using someone’s face to create a doodle of a different face; and, doodling on hands with Mehandi (henna). If you want to learn this art, visit Skillshare. Don’t forget to learn the meaning behind your doodles. Its more fun reading into yourself this way!
When I was younger, I studied only one English Literature course at University of Toronto—I completed a Major in Biological Sciences and Double Minors in Philosophy and Mathematics. As a student, I was blessed because I was close to some of my Biology, Philosophy, Maths, and English professors. I used to walk with a Philosophy professor as well as an English professor—they did not mind me right next to me. They were both very nice men and were much older than me. On our way from North building to South building, I used to pair up with these two professors. The walk is like 25 minutes so it is very boring walking alone. Pairing up with my professors after class helped me because it was easier for me to think back to the lectures this way. Both of my professors were very protective of me just like they were towards other students. No wonder I grew up so focused! My ongoing attraction towards English and Philosophy is directly tied to the additional emotional support provided by these men. They used to spend the most time answering my questions because they knew that I was going to ask them the most questions—I enjoyed their courses more because they were more interesting to begin with.
When I grew older, I changed into what these professors were trying to create; i.e. a creative, fresh, and inquisitive mind that asked the right questions and finds the right answers; and, someone who would listen to herself before deciding on something. As I matured, I realized that I was performing better when I was working close to those who chose to love and protect me; otherwise, I was just running away faster. Read article “Why offering emotional support in the workplace can lead to increased productivity” to find out why I am always writing, thinking, and consistently and patiently pursing my goals.
My novel lucid mind plays a funny rhythm every time I come across someone or something exceptional—its different for each case. Once it played this tune with X-Files; I even play with m favourite charcaters or sets when I become lucid. And, this time my lovely brain is playing this tick every time I finish watching series Gotham—I have to make sure not to watch dirty scenes though so that my funny tune may play properly. This tune I feel after watching “Gotham” is so real. It’s like all my dream characters start singing some sort of song during the day. It’s a thrilling experience! I know that some mastermind artists and speakers receive enlightenment through tunes that activate inside their minds after a timeless encounter. This odd music is the reason why I plan to read this series slowly. The script for “Gotham” is available at Springfield! Springfield!
Advice to all writers and poets: Stay close to the things that are causing that odd rhythm inside my brain. Fight to get close if you need to. After close encounter, start writing.
ENFPs like me can become “idea bombs” when they are trained properly. They are the core pillar of every institution and society that require thoughtful and caring leaders who firmly believe in team play—ENFPs interact only with genuine folks because they love discarding the bad apples.
I will now show you how I think and organize things when I am writing—I think several years ahead every time I plan. I have been slowly writing a novel “She: The Mirror“. At some point, I started thinking of adding it in my first book, “Intertwined“; today, after reviewing some of my original thoughts, I realized that I can’t squish this all into my first book. Did you see how scattered my thoughts can become?
Online articles about certain narcissistic political leaders
Websites that discuss personalities
My blog category “Women Abuse”
1 book on Holocaust (Nazi era)
10 poetry books
4 Miscellaneous selections
Overall page count of all the above-mentioned books is 7975; and, if you were to exclude 1000 pages or so given that I might be using as reference material, the page count is around 6900 pages. In this page count, I have not included the blogs, websites, and online Australian writing course. On top of all this, I have audio recordings of my life experiences; there are around 400 recordings to review. Did you see again how scattered this list really is? “Being scattered” is a creative super-power ENFPs possess—this is why ENFPs don’t hang out with the wrong kind of people because these bastards can manipulate this super-power into something “insane”.
My sister and I are both sensitive ladies; when we get stressed, we both can develop acne. Therefore, both of us know about many creams and treatments that help clean acne and make the face go back to normal. I was clever enough to find the fastest treatments for myself. I was lucid so I could touch a cream and then sense that this one is the right one.
One day, I examined the little bit of leftover acne (1 or 2 spots) that my sister was fighting; I felt irritated and offered her my treatments. Some of these did not fit her skin. So I got more annoyed and determined. I used to remind her every now and then that I will find the right cream for her skin. I promised her; and, I told myself that I won’t break this promise.
Some years after this quest began, I met someone who took me to visit the local Costco. He introduced me to a lady who was running a demo event for “Infinite Aloe Skin Care” cream. I took two samples from her. I gave one to my sister and almost pushed her to use these. As usual, she was afraid of trying anything new on her face. I comforted her by telling her that this cream is working well on my skin. Finally, she consented and tried it for a couple of days. And, it worked marvellously!
She was so happy with the results that she ordered a set for herself. She gifted me one product to show her gratitude. I am using it as well now. “Infinite Aloe” is giving us results really fast because it has lots of Aloe Vera inside it. I think our acne trouble is over forever! As usual, God heard my prayers and answered them when He felt it was right to do so. This is why I call my prayers the “Silver Bullet“.
I wrote my first article when I was around 15 years old. It was an opinion article and a much needed entry for my personal journal. I wrote this while I was studying in Pakistan. Mind you, this is around 20 years old news! I was upset about a news story about abuse of a local woman; so I got heated enough to let all my thoughts out. Some friends of mine read the article as well. Soon—and I do not know how—the word got to my English teacher, Rukhshanda. She found me; took my journal from my hand by force; and, locked it in the Principal’s office. I was pretty young back then so I just became very scared and sullen. I did not protest about what was going on; but, I promised myself that I will get away from such situations in the future so that I may write again. I still think that my teacher did a very filthy thing. The only queer thing about that article was that it was filled with my thoughts about an atrocity that my mind could not fathom. And, my English teacher could not handle the fact that one of her top students had decided to find her voice—I feel like vomiting. Rukhshanda was not a bad woman though—I mean when my periods started while I was at a field trip, she immedialty took care of me
Anyways, I grew up watching how some Pakistani people push their children and even their friends’ children to achieve perfection. But, when someone is special enough to deliver exceptional results, they make that person sound odd and dumb. Even some of my relatives point out to me that I should not be writing or reading poetry. One of my male relatives said to me, “If you need to do all this, then do it at home”. I decided to pay no attention to all of this; however, I feel that it is still having some impact on my activities. This is why I am noting this here on the web so that I may have a more real reminder in front of me.
To summarize all this, I learned how to write creatively at an early age. Furthermore, I even learned how to read at an early age. My mom has told me that when I was a toddler, I could read some words from the TV screen. She used to get so surprised when she would hear me speak these words—no wonder, I even poty trained my older sibling. I have been fighting all my life to make room for my writing. And, I intend to do this in the future as well. All this is beyond incredible, don’t you think so.