Absolute non-sense.

I have got nothing left but few words stuck in my throat, words I can’t seem to put into a full sentence.

Instead, I have paintings in my head, scenarios playing out of them, I can see people talking about my life. I think they know I exist, I think we both realize that I am listening but neither of us is willing to do anything about it.

Oh the joy of watching your life spin and spin, it makes you think whether you have landed safely somewhere or are you still caught in the middle of it all?

I have absolutely no idea what I am talking about, because I am stuck with millions of incomplete ideas, because I gave up on trying to pursue any of them till the end.

I have just finished a book that taught me in 200 pages, that I have got to break to appreciate my wholeness on the peaceful days.

One must drown -or dive in, it is all about perspective after all- to learn when to decide to pick the pieces and go on like something has happened and it will happen again, and that is, absolutely fine.

I think a person is destined to stop and evaluate where he stands every once and a while. I think people have every right of choosing where to go next.

I don’t know where I stand, or how I feel either, but I know it is okay.

At the end, your life will eventually push you somewhere you are supposed to be.

Enjoy the journey, because at some point, the road will make far more sense than the destination.

Leave pieces of you along the road, the road you were brave enough to walk alone, because maybe, just maybe, someone else would believe in it too, and follow your lead.


رسالتي إلى الله

لطالما إنتهت أحاديثي مع الله بـشكل سيئ . افقد الأمل في نفسي و أتأكد انه أيضًا فقد الأمل فيّ.

لا أفهم رسائله معظم الوقت, ولا أعرف الغرض منها.

.كيف يصل المرء إلى طريق مسدود ثم يطلب العون فـلا يعيرُه أحد أي انتباه

.كيف يُسأل عن أفعال تم اقتياده لها

هل خُيرت؟ أم أجُبرت؟

.كيف ليّ أن أعلم, فـأنا وهو لم نتفق يوما

.أعرف إن الطريق اليه سهل ويسير, هذا ما يخبرني به البعض دوما

.لكني لم أجد له طريقا واضحا بعد

 .و أفهم تماما إن كل من وَجد طريقا له, لن يفهم توهاني

.سَقط مئات المرات وعُودت من جديد لأبحث عن طريق أخر, الطريق المقدر ليَّ أن أعبر منه

.لم أعد أعرف ما أبحث عنه بعد الآن

.لم أعد أعرف للعودة طريق

.لم أعد ابحث عن أسباب

.قيل ليّ أنني سأرى الصورة بشكلً أوضح في الوقت المناسب, وكم طال إنتظاري

.لم أعد اهتم بذلك أيضًا

.أبعث رسالتي إلى الله, وأكتب اليه شكواي لعله يبعث ليّ رسالة أوضح

.أشكو له بـطريقتي, أشكو له وأكتب كي لاتتناثر أفكاري على من حولي فـأفشل في استرجاعها مرة اخرى

.أعلم إنك تراني وتسمعني, أعلم أنك رددت عليّ من قبل, لكني استسلمت ونسيت سبب وجودي على هذه الأرض,

.ولا أعرف كم من الوقت سأظل تائهة هكذا

.لم أعد أحتمل أن أرى الحياة تتلاشى من أمامي

.لا أعلم كيف يتجاوز أحد عدم إنصاف العالم له ويَدعي أن شيءً لم يحدث

.العالم يسير في الاتجاه الخطأ وماعدت أحتمل رؤية ذلك

.تحطمت كل معتقداتي في محاولتي الأخيرة لانقاذ العالم أوعلى الاقل اقتياده إلى طريق أفضل

.أعلم إن ليس كل شيء مُقدر له أن ينجح, ولكني استنفذت عدد محاولتي البائسة

.أعلم إن ما اقوله يخلو من المنطق, لكن فقدان الصواب هوأقل ثمن يدفعه البشر في هذا العالم

.أعجز عن وصف مدى صعوبة اختيار كلماتي لتعبرعن يأسي ولكنك تعلم أكتر مني

.سأستيقظ في الصباح لأعود لحياتي ولأخوض المعارك اليومية المعتادة, لكن إسمح ليَّ اليوم أن أطلق العنان لأفكاري وأتخلص من ما تبقى من غضبي

.مع تحياتي


I know you.

I know you, and I know that you know as well.

I know you so well that I’d know which character of the movie you’ve just watched will capture your attention and you’ll entirely relate to.

I know you so well that I’d know which line of the movie you’ve just watched will trigger the sadness in your heart.

I know you so well that I’d know which line of the movie you will fall in love with and might as well quote on your blog.

I know you so well that I’d know the state of mind behind what you’ve just written, even if you fooled everyone into thinking you’re fine.

I know you so well that I’d know the thoughts in your head when your ex’s favourite song plays on the radio.

I know you too well to ever give up on you.

Bottom line is, I know you so well it makes me want you even more, and I can’t stop myself from wanting you every minute of every day.

Listen to me.

Don’t listen to what they say.

I have seen you cry, I know you.

Let them know you messed up.

Let them know you don’t care.

Show them how all your falls are the reason you are here today.

Listen to me.

I don’t know what I am about to say but I have got a lot to prove.

I have known misery and I have had my glorious days.

I always wanted more. I was always running towards the finish lines I set for myself.

I was delayed, I was pushed aside. I was torn apart.

But I have been put back together by people who saw me for who I am.

I was happily down on my knees, watching the whole world as it passed me by.

It is okay to slow down. It is expected to trip.

Shatter into pieces and learn to put your pieces back together.

I have kissed my misery goodbye.

Rock bottom is not where I am supposed to be for too long.

I am sorry if the world was ever cruel to you. But if it is any consolation, I have set on a journey of my own to try and set my part of the world right.

I am sorry I haven’t crossed your way yet. But I believe I am destined to find you.

I am coming your way.

I’m almost there.

Listen to me.

I don’t know what they have told you, but I know you are more than what they see.

Stupid society judges you and then tells you to believe in yourself.

I know living in our world is not an easy thing to do.

I am coming your way.

I’m almost there.

Listen to me.

What you see in the mirror is not what defines you.

How you feel every night before you sleep is not how you should be feeling.

What you hear from others is not necessarily the right thing to believe in.


I know you have been listening to me.

I am here.

I am here now. 

How do you?

How do you tell someone that you think the reason you are still alive, is to meet them?

How do you tell someone that they are the reason you believe in yourself, and losing them will only make you think worse of yourself?

How do you tell someone that just their mere presence makes you feel safe and secure?

How do you tell someone that their absence can easily mess up your day?

How do you tell someone that the sound of their voice is something you look forward to every morning?


How do you tell anyone that they mean so much to you when you have sworn that no one will ever be the center of your attention?

And most importantly, how do you admit any of that to yourself anyway?


My 4 am ramblings.

You remind of a song I used to love, it was all I wanted to hear at all times, but then I suddenly stopped listening to. Because the world kept interfering, making it very hard for me to even hum the rhythm any more.

You remind me of a book I slowed myself down while reading in a vain attempt to keep myself from finishing it.

You also happen to remind me of an abandoned book on my father’s bookshelf. One I hid a long time ago. I still haven’t figured out why. One that I keep unread.

And another that I hold whenever the world seems too big or too small for me to exist in. One that only listens to my late night aches. One that sometimes succeeds in distracting me from all the mess I yearn sometimes to create.

I guess you also remind me of the first painting I ever drew. It was flawless, yet not understandable to anyone. I sometimes believed that even I might have misinterpreted it.

A chaotic portrait of my mind is what it was. I was relieved I could touch the fine line I drew to border my insanity. I needed to see that madness existed outside of my head as well. I needed to feel a less insecure.

I have been planning on telling you how much these things mean to me. I have been planning on telling you how you mean to me more than all these things combined.

I want to hold on to you like I have held on to all forms of art that I have come to know.

I want to see you rise. I want to see you believe you can.

I want to see that heart of yours healed.

I want the world to see how beautiful you truly are.

I want to kiss your soul goodnight.

I want to kiss your lips so gently every night as I turn a new page of my diary, eager to fill it with more memories of you the next day.

I want to be your company, even on my worst nights.

You make me want to stay and fight my urge to run the other way around every time you say something nice.

You make me lose sense of every thing and every one around.

You make me want to jump head first only so you could catch me, and I’m not even the risk taker type.

You swirl my heart, and I want you to be mine, only if for the night.

Make me sing that song again, fill me with courage so I could reach out and finally open that dusty book. Frame my painting across our bed and remind me every night how beautiful the insides of my head are.

Or better yet, sing the song with me, tuck me into bed and let me fall asleep to your sleepy voice reading the deserted book. And I will teach you how to draw so we could both contemplate the exquisiteness of the human being that you are.

My own version of non-sense.


Blindfolded, I would follow your scent.

All I see are shadows. I close my eyes, sense a warm breeze.

I called for help.

God isn’t here.

Move aside, I’m jumping off a cliff.

Oh wait, they will blame me even after I’m gone.

I can’t stand your voice telling me I should go back to sleep.

I know you are leaving, again.

I have lost you a dozens times before.



Hello darkness, I can see you clearly.

Embrace my light.

I never want to be seen again.

I see black in colours.

I will swallow my pride and let you eat me alive.

Shatter my soul into pieces that will reflect my inner light.

The one you have tainted with all your silly non-sense.

I believe in you.

Darkness, you seem to know what you’re doing.

Carry on.



Oh, heavy soul.

A song with no words.

They can all sense the heaviness you carry around.

A book with a reflective cover.

Glance at the stained page and walk away.

You don’t want to see the distorted letters.

Sentences were meant to be stopped by fullstops.

Commas are only there to help me take a breath.

My book is over a shelf.

A shelf I broke when I was young.

And I have stepped over as I grew older.

Don’t dig up what people have buried.

My incomplete sentences will haunt you at night.

You can’t mute the voices.

Your mind is incapable of giving sense to everything around.

I was never meant to be read.

I was never meant to be printed.

I was never meant to exist.

Oh, the heavy soul I have become.


~ The End.

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