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Gloriously 

6 Aug

Story upon story, my mind plays and skips across roads and thoughts less traveled. But then again, the roads I have travelled keep on teaching me, grilling my stamina and testing my willingness to accept the gloriousness of being so small in such a brilliantly huge world.

My heart is heavy sometimes, and my choking anxiety hits hard, but on most days my peace prevails, fed by the beauty of shores, lakes and sunflower fields. 

The stillness of home feels as it should, but the pumping heart keeps pushing my eyes open, I can’t sleep; there is so much to see. So I put myself in my bed after days of sleeping on planes trains and cars, using sign language to try and describe the confusion of being so thrilled and so lost all at once. 

I rest my case for now and leave some of my words here, I must release the rest with my eyes closed and my mind open. The soul glares with color and summons me to slow down and rejoice. The high of adventure sways my fingers into a halt, and I pull myself from this practice into a deeper one.

Vivid

19 Feb

My dreams are becoming more vivid. I am surrounded by beautiful nature, rivers, green and every shade of it, hills and corn fields. The wind comes at me from every angle, it greets me as though I’ve been away for a lifetime. The dreams come and go, and at some point I cannot tell if those are moments I’ve lived or simple tricks of the mind. 

I wait for the night to come so I am able to continue my journey into places I’ve never been but still have the familiarity of a land I’ve lived in for years, they feel like home. My waking life is equally as exhilarating. It is a blend of utmost color, and I am blessed. 

I am blessed to be here tonight, blessed to dwell in those spaces and places that exist soley for my peace. I am now an element of stillness in a world of diligent motion. And when my turn comes, I will be ready. Sleep comes to me now with all of its mystery and leads me in with grace. I resign from my wakefulness and retreat into a serene world, one where my vivid dreams wait…

This day has been good, i am learning. 

Chapter Twenty Five: Prologue 

15 Oct

Well here we are. Quarter of a century and still kicking. With the proper nutrition, and medical advances I might even live seventy five years longer. But I’m not betting on it. Whether it’s 75 more years, or just one more day I am more than blessed to be here today. 

I’ve always adopted a rather dramatic approach towards my life. Ive circled around myself like a predator and pounced at myself when weak, I tore myself apart any given chance I got. Except I made it through, it never worked, nothing was ever solved, words were just words at the end of the day, and thoughts remained just thoughts, with no real value. 

Approaching twenty five i began to take it easy, I figured, well if all this hate, this suffering, this negativity surrounding me couldn’t destroy me, then I probably am bigger than this, I am deeper, stronger and much more surreal. I decided to love. I chose it even when walls crashed. I found it in ruins of relationships, broken ideals and beliefs. I created love when it ran out from the hearts surrounding my own. I loved, and I learned. I still am. 

I started to let go, and forgive. I decided that every human I will meet from now on will be a lesson and I will try my best to be a source of light. I started getting comfortable in my skin or lack thereof. I shaved part of my head and i discovered that just like thoughts, my hair wasn’t real either. I was still there, even when uncovered I recognized myself. I overcame my deep fear of loss. I pushed through. 

Twenty five and present, no more preconceived notions. I have exhausted my prejudices, and my thoughts. My doubts are all still present, so are my insecurities and my demons. Except I know them all on first name’s basis now. I see them coming, I greet them and sit with them. The battle to get them to leave has become civil. But very difficult still. 

There is more to life than I thought there was. I will keep this one to myself though. Words are just words after all. Let’s hope that at twenty five, I can live better, love better and just be. 

Thank you 

Suit Up

14 Dec

There a few things I wish I had known before I left home for the first time. There are also a few things I am glad I didn’t. You can scroll back two years into my posts and witness the destruction that was happening. However, for the purpose of allowing you your own experience, untarnished by my own thoughts, and assumptions, I will try to throw some sisterly advice at you and you get to choose what you like.

Number one: It is perfectly OK to be scared, perhaps terrified, all while trying to act as though you are in control. Time will take care of this one.

Number two: You have time. Don’t rush, and take things easy as they come. You may think that every step you take is indicative of your entire future, but that usually isn’t the case. You can say the wrong thing, people who care will correct you and help you grow, you are allowed and entitled to your own mistakes.

Number three: Treat yourself and indulge in the little things. You may send me pictures of the suits you wear, the food you eat, and the gifts you plan to buy me.

Number four: Watch your weight.

Number five: The first couple of weeks are usually the roughest, you will have to grow a layer or two of new skin to get used to it.

Number six: You will miss home and it will get to you some days, you can let that happen; but always remember that the distance will make you stronger.

Number seven: The confusion. This comes in bolts and varying doses. To counter it,  try to find a balance between what you want and why you want it.

Number eight: Invest in reading and learning about anything and everything that compels you. You may need to have an opinion in various discussions. Plus opinions without backgrounds are signs of ignorance and we don’t want that.

Number nine: Don’t believe everything you see, everyone you meet, and everything you hear. Filter, then filter, and then filter some more.

Number ten: Know that growing up is a process, that you do not have to meet every expectation set out for you, that from now on you get to set the horizons. Know that you have a group of people who would be there for you in a heart beat, and that whenever you need the silliest or most serious advice I will be your anchor.

When You Feel Stuck

10 Jul

Sometimes change is good. Sometimes it is great. We may not understand the reasons behind it or the paths towards it, but in the end change is necessary.

Life does not go by alphabetically, or numerically, or systemically. It could happen in bursts, bundles and heaps of days, years or decades; but change follows, it always does.

I do have my prejudices about change, i have an unhealthy relationship with it, i treat it like a need, without it i tend to lose purpose. Then again we are different, we are each wired in our own specific ways that enable us to have such unique lives and experiences no matter how miniscule the differences. Many crave routine and they have every right to love it.

We tend to love what we know and run from the vague, the unexpected and the blurry. Somewhere as we grow in years we become more loving of real expectations, we become less likely to believe in magic, and sadly less likely to believe in ourselves.

Come what may at the end of the day, we cannot tell the future whether we are 5 years old or 87. We utilize our full capacities to avoid big bad surprises and equip ourselves with enough plans to last a life time. We make too many plans and the problem is that they usually outlive us.

I make a decision almost every day to try and live simply, less chaotically, more vividly. Some days i succeed and on others i really don’t. You may be making the exact opposite decision for yourself daily and there is nothing wrong with that. You may love plans, routines, real expectations, and complicated fast paced days and there is no reason why it makes your way of living any less important than mine.

I am tired of preaching, it is everywhere and everybody does it. We are lectured on exactly how we are supposed to “be” through every sensory and technological outlet out there. We are being reduced and not improved by that pressure.

We are becoming diluted by today’s world, stripped out of our common sense and our love for everything that makes us so damn different.

Everything inherently raw in us should be celebrated and not vilified. Live in the world you love and feel free to exaggerate your need for either sameness or  uniqueness! whichever side you choose; i hope you like your seat. Just keep in mind, you can always move, there is always a way.

A shy eulogy

19 Jan

I had not thought of you or even said your name in a very long time; until today when I found out you died.
I feel bad, I am hurt, and unamused by all the coverage your death is receiving. I am not accepting or giving condolences on your behalf because you are simply somebody that I used to know.I had no stake in your life and I have none in your death. I am sorry that you won’t be here tomorrow. I truly am.
I am unaware of your life and your deepest desires. I have no idea what your favorite color was or whether you ever found love. I cannot ask you why you made the choices you did. But I can just mourn the loss of you as an old high school friend.
You don’t symbolize any political agenda or ideology. Your name doesn’t cause any deep revolutionary need in me. Your life is as foreign to me as mine was to yours. But you still belong somewhere somehow in a world of the innocent, the forgiving and the free. You are not an idea or a symbol, you are not a weapon.
You were A human worthy of a long beautiful life; and I don’t think that admitting that is of any insult to you.
I am sorry today was your last, you are surrounded with grace now.
May peace be upon you

Sprint for Normalcy

15 Jan

My fingers approach these letters timidly as they have not touched them in quite a long time.
My hand twitches as it points towards the words it has chosen to create. My mind stretches and it’s rusty limbs crack as out of shape thoughts put on their running shoes.
Not much meaning can be made as I have been trying to disappear to no avail. Apparently once you come into existence there really is no way out; not even existential vacations. I have been cheated and Ill informed before entering this unforgiving relentless world.
You can find me under books and beside my cat. You can find my metaphors all hunched awkwardly on cover letters and inside emails never returned. You can see my precious head if you look really close under my parents expectations. You may think I am joking. I probably am.
I probably am enjoying the fact that I am lucky in some weird twisted socially unacceptable way. I possibly know my worth too well to throw my self at any eyelash batting opportunity. I maybe had no idea that I would be the last one standing holding on to whatever I have been preaching ever since I learned the essence of a meaningful and happy life. I may be the one who gets away from the dream eating, ambition decreasing, wallet fattening career.
I may be forgotten. So I pick up a suitcase filled with words and sprint after that train.
We’ll see.

Growing up

29 Nov

Nobody tells you exactly how you are supposed to grow up, and it sure as hell isn’t about finishing your education and getting a job. It can’t be.
Nobody prepares you for the buckets of expectations that will be splashed in your face whenever you run short of said achievement.
Nobody quite defines the standards of success and/or happiness. Everything we read as children taught us that most things in life are relative yet we live by barracks of absolutes.
Nobody precisely customizes your adulthood to suit you. You simply grow into it and you rely on the limits you set yourself and others accordingly set for you.
It all apparently is a bad form of chaos, an unnecessary rush for an unclear finish line.
Do you have everything you want? Or are you working towards it? Well, then what? That’s what I’m curious about. Then What??
I find myself sewn into an ideal that I have not asked for, I feel ambushed and unappreciated. I really hope this is not one of those weird phases, we , as human beings, have to go through in order to achieve a milestone in age, wisdom and experience.
I hate labels and I dislike frames. I do not understand detail I perceive only wholes. That, however is keeping my over educated head at home, and my good for apparently nothing- skills at bay.
We are bombarded with standards and levels and requirements for minimal performance and my reaction is basically “are you kidding me?” Most of the times.
I realize this is a perfect rant as cliche as it gets considering my situation. And I will one day look back from my desk job and laugh at how inadequate I felt and how unfair I perceived the grown up world to be. Maybe I overestimate my self, and my pride overrides my logic at times, and that’s the cost of not feeling integrated enough to take the solemness and gloominess of having to “grow up”.
It’s funny that I am technically a grown up by now, and as I’m documenting this huge Sham, I find that no body really knows much. It’s borderline insane to think that other people might be having similar inquiries as mine, as to how exactly does one grow up? What does it mean? And who shows up at your door, shakes your hand and pats you on the back saying :” well congratulations, you have officially grown up! Welcome to the club, here’s the book of secrets, be sure to be as vague as possible to your children, or else we’ll have to include them, and you know, this is exclusive members only.”
Nobody, that’s the answer. Nobody has a clue. And I am pretty sure we each make our own way towards some feeling of satiety, achievement and reward.
I don’t know where any physical lines can be drawn. I don’t know if they should. I realize the value of independence and I think that is the initial straw towards living an adult life. Besides that, nothing really changes. Nothing extraordinary happens, and epiphanies don’t begin hitting you on a daily basis.
You just live, and then you see, you feel, and you learn. Repeat until you are happy with the process and its yields. You just live and you learn, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that as a definition for growing up.
You are most welcome future generations; empirical evidence at it’s best.

Almost Twenty-Three

9 Oct

I pause at a line. It looks like an ocean, though it appears as a person too. It looks like the wall of my room, but sometimes it looks like me.
I am shackled by a thought maybe even two. Three months of dancing with my favorite demons and four years of oblivious survival. Five fingers collide with mine leaving me with a sixth sense of unrivaled helplessness. I look at seven days of meticulous repetition rendering eight a very lonely number.
I count again in hopes of finally leaping from eight to nine dismantling and cutting all lines and ropes of connection. I want none of that. I want ten, eleven, and twelve. I want thirty-four and seventy six. I want hundreds and three thousands. I want a million thoughts and nothing less than a billion dollars worth of right decisions and cashed out bravery.
I want infinite countless-ness and meaningless sounds. I want the absurd and the surreal. I want the fruitful desert and the rotten garden. I want more than I dare ask for. My hurt and my hardened skin heart into a beat of song and a song of word and a word of lines. The lines and the lanes; spiderwebs of possibilities and limitations weaved into my clothes.
I pause at these lines I cannot move. I pause at a whirlwind of infinite choice and nothing at all.

All Too Human

17 Aug

Perhaps it is unethical of me to require magic when I do not possess it myself. It is surreal to believe in a fantasy of continuous return, when you are barely present right now.
It is a flaunted reality they all believe in and I am absent. I am absent in mind, body and soul; I cannot pin point myself on a map to save my life. Perhaps I have not acquired the power to believe in anything yet; maybe that is the only barrier between me and this world.
Sometimes you are more quiet on the inside than on the outside; sometimes it’s not peace; it’s an undermined war. You know that keeping still won’t awaken the terrors and won’t allow the body counts. You know that creeping around hiding from your own voices is how you get to flaunt a blank unreciprocated emotion.
You cuddle with your aggression and your anguish swollen feet feel heavy and half dead. You have no roots, you have feet that feel and touch the world alone. You have no skill but walking, and the moment you begin; it rarely ever stops. So you dwell in your pause until your prose attempts to move you, to no avail.
Perhaps it is unethical to exist among those who forget about their feet way too soon and blame them for taking root…
So I put away my boots and I press my feet into toxic ground in hopes of becoming immune. I stop feeling as they have informed me; and a sense of appalling foreignness bestows itself on me.
I turn it all off and I refrain in a shadow of a poisonous city. Foreign and foraged, my name crumbles into sheer letters I have learned to answer to. Nothing within and everything without; I am not magic, I am real.
“Human, All too Human”-F.N