نعود لنتذكر

أنا و أنت...
نعود، في بعض الأحيان
لنتذكر، سويا
صفحات الكتاب المتربة في حنين
و نذكر واحدا الآخر
بالصفحات المقلوعة و المنسية.
رومانسية القصص التى انتهت
و الأحلام التى قد ذابت
فى دماء يدين فارغتين.

15 يوليو 06

Everything.

Today i walked into my sister's room. Everything was in place, it felt so human. I remembered my room in a flash. It looks like a trashcan :D I concluded something about myself today. It's that I want everything. I want my camera, I want my bass, I want my pictures, I want my paints, I want my makeup, my earrings. I want everything. I never throw anything away, ever. Things make me alive but they also drown me. I feel drowned in my room. I know there must be things out there that I can get rid of, but I never spent the time to think what *exactly* I want to throw away. So I keep everything, and I keep a noisy room.

I want everything in there, and it makes everything not want me.

I need shoes, too. And I want contact lenses. I want a new skirt because I feel weird. Whenever I feel weird i get a skirt...I dont know why, but I do it!

Gogo gave me a photoalbum for my birthday. Now I am starting to use it. Decided to make it my favourite memories photoalbum. I will put pictures of everyone that meant anything to me. (At least the ones I have pictures of!).

I decided that i will listen to "Who Wears These Shoes" by Elton John more often. It makes me feel really good! It has this beat. That's the thing about Elton John, he has the beat...
I have been watching too much Ally McBeal- yes, it's true! I like this series a LOT lol. I know it's crazy, i was never for TV or TVseries but I like it. Just like I love Sex and the City.

Nuweibaa was so kool. We went me and Sarah. This time was very different. It made me understand Sarah much better, actually. I want to go back there in the winter.

That's IT.

I understand when someone says they can love two people at the same time. I totally understand. I love two people at the same time, each in a different horizon. It's not even funny anymore.

I have to say:
I have lived. I really have. So many things I wanted to do, I never did. So many things I wanted to do I did. Does that mean that I have lived?

Maybe I dont believe in love anymore. They say that a heart only has space for one person. It's a one man list. Mehh. I dont get it.

There's such a thin limit between frienship and love. Why does love exist to begin with? How do you know love exists?
On what basis? In which way and why?

When there are too many thoughts, all at once. They collide and make this one ugly sound like a burp or something. Something completely pointless and meaningless. There's no point of getting them all out.

Oh, I have so many years to live. I have to survive so much unknown. It must be much easier to die. I mean, in a heartbeat, in a bomb, in some ugly shit sinking (not that, I like the sea a bit too much to die in it). But, there has to be so many choices.

One choice.
One choice can ruin my whole life. How can that even make any sense? How can regret make sense? How can..umm. OK.

Should I survive with "I dont know if I love you, but I will know" or should I give up? Should I give up? Is the best choice what appears to be the best option? Why do options even exist.

I have TOO much free time. too much free time makes me go insane. Too much free time is what makes anyone insane because they think too much it makes them go in loops of thought or memory, that's when it becomes LEAST fun. :D

That's it.

A poem I wrote..in arabic.

الحلم

لم تعد تتبسم فى وجه الأشياء الصغيرة.
و لم تعد الأشياء تشحذ منها الابتسامة،
فقد ماتت علاقتهما
حين مات فى عينيها
بريق الحلم.

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كانت تنادى الزهرات بأسمائهن
و الطيور، و الأصوات.
تسخر منها النسمات، ثم تعود
لتداعب الاحساس،
العائش على رموش عينيها.
كانت تغنى...فتنصت الأشياء.
حفيف الأوراق صوت الأوراق
و هى تحاول اللحاق بكلمات أغنيتها
المتراقصات على النسمات.
احتل احساسها حب الأشياء
فخافها الخوف،
و نفرت منها الحقائق الخانقة،
حانقة.

--------------------------------
و لكن،
تسرب إلى قفصها نبضات حب الأشخاص،
فحلمت بهم، و جهلوا اسمها.
الحلم مات.و أما حب الأشياء
فقد غرق
شيئاً فشيئاً.

In Little Sections.

Let's talk about things. Let's talk, slowly, about things.
Trust?
Who do I trust? who trusts me? Is there one person who knows I have good intentions? How can I trust people, trust my feelings about people when I had been betrayed by my favourite. How can I know for sure that I have a right feeling? And, what will stop me from doing whatever I think I want for the moment if I know that I live for myself? How can I trust when people do not trust me?

Feeling.
What is feeling? Where does feeling come from? Why, feeling? Why is there feeling? How am I supposed to trust feelings when they failed me before? How can I believe in feeling, still? How can I be sure what exactly I am feeling,even? How can I define feeling if feeling as a word in itself defines itself as vaguest vague.

Living versus Surviving.
I was never for surviving, I was always for living, the higher level. I was for feeling, sensing. I was always all for happiness, forgiving. The good things. Now, I cant even survive. It makes no sense I can not understand myself. I had so much to catch up with and I am not exactly having the space, nor the time to do that .

I Want to Love.
Like I used to love. I want to live like I used to live. I want to feel like I used to feel. I am in need of breaking something.