I am Helpless.

This is the helpless phase. People around me feel all kinds of bad things and I cant even make them feel OK for one second. Even if I try, I fail. Because I am helpless, I am chained. I cant do anything. Freshness of life has failed to reach the hearts of others. Freshness of life has become so worthless. Freshness of life can not do anything. Freshness of life is back as a 16 year old, sittin next to her grandmother who has leukemia reading her bits of the Koraan. Freshness of Life knows that whatever she does, if she can lift the building, if she would bang her head to the wall till her braincells come out, if she could get a hammer and just get all the energy out, it still wont go into getting leukemia to leave the old woman's body.
Now she's 19.
For a long time she thought she can, but she cant. Sarah will still slaughter her own arms, watch her own blood turn into god damn rivers.
Hany will still smoke up just because he knows no other way out of his misery.
Yasmine will still shut up because she feels alien and estranged.

Freshness of Life will die. Freshness of Life will turn into some ugly person who will getaway, one of those who will smile when they least want to. Knowing that others smile because they have to.

Laughing from the heart only existed in the Ice Age, yah?

The math.

I dont know what love is.
I like, I am attached to, but I love myself more. God does the math.
I am away, I dont talk a lot, I dont visit a lot. I feel like it's a heavy obligation to sit and talk. God does the math.
I study, I hate writing, I hate it. I get so stressed. God does the math.
I feel, I care, I am left. I am lost. God does the math.
Till when will god do the math?

Runaway

Runaway. I need to runaway. I need to leave everything here and go there. Sit by the sea and think nothing, be careless. I need a break from everything and everyone. I need a break from everything and everyone. I need a break from all the things everyone needs. I need to rest and dream. I need time for myself. I need to breathe in and breathe out as slowly as I can.
I need to know that I exist.
I need to know that I exist and that I can.
I need to know that I can have time by myself and not run to talk with someone or even something.
I need to go back to having fun all by myself.
I feel like I am going insane.
People are taking so much energy from me. I need to breathe in, breathe out and know that I can regain the energy taken away.

Maybe I was asking for too much when I asked for more than survival.

Maybe this is my going insane blog!

Remember?

There should be no space for guilt. There is space for guilt. You know that leaving someone does not mean that you care about them no more. It does not mean you hate them. You know you still love him, in a different way, but you do. You do not want him to hurt himself, you want him to be happy…but you do not quite know how to do that.

Maybe he thinks about you, maybe he uses you as another reason for his self-loathing scheme. You get into a philosophical conversation and it feels so good to be able to talk with him again without hurting him and not letting him hurt you.

You go on with your life. You go out, you meet people…you feel free. Something in you misses the misery which he had put you in. Something in you wants to look at his pictures again and admire his beauty, and his love of bleakness. You are happy that you can feel alive once again after leaving him, but you miss certain loneliness that was felt. You miss a certain winter-feeling his relationship had given you. And you also miss his winters.

Remember the first time you touched him? You crossed arms with him. And you couldn’t look at his face…it was too hard. You were already overwhelmed by the feeling, you did not need to look out for his own expression.

Remember the first time he held your hand? You were crossing the street and, suddenly, his palm is in yours. He was cold, he was always cold. And you were always warm. You loved his cold hands as much as you loved his warm heart. You even loved his look when he looked as if you just slapped him on the face when all you did was take your hand away

You still love him like the traveling bird that keeps having flashback of its old home that it has no way back to. You love him because he was, once, your home, your key. You still love him because he is the memory.

It's a good day!

It's a good day! I watched a not-so-bad movie. Some holywood shit :D but yah, it's still OK. Failure to Launch! Yah..AND I snuck out of the house to have dinner with a good friend. And another good friend joined us. It was crazy. It was spontaneos and it feels so good. It breaks rules and it feels oh, so good.