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.


A forest of my own.

In the forest where none may pass but you, I walk down a steep hill along the river’s stream, I hear its gurgling and it reminds me of your breath over my neck every night. Peace of mind is what I find listening to streams. And you were my peaceful melody of all times. I stumble upon the roots of some currently withered flowers, some pink and others are blue, your favorite colors. I bet they were as dazzling as we were one day.

I think I saw a glimpse of you, your colored shadow that beamed through the darkness of this place. My heart was thumping like a horse’s hoof on a dirt road, as I tripped over a wooden trunk. My face in the mud, my hands lie uncomplainingly beside my body. I remember that is how you found me years ago, helplessly lying on the ground, looking into the hole of my nothingness. Only this time I can intensely feel everything that is going on around me, the calmness of this place is intensifying even the sounds of my thoughts. I’m out of breath, totally drawn to the ground by the earth’s gravity. I secretly wish you would find me again. My heartbeats were calling for the underground creatures to never come out of their hiding place. I had a war in my mind, my laboured breath was the only sign I was still alive.

I clenched my hands into the wet mud, and crawled to the nearest dry land. I wanted to scratch your name on a near-by rock and then smash it down the hill. I feel the need to throw you out of my life and watch you fade. But I could hear your words in my bones, my now fragile breaking bones. You are the sweetest poison, Love.

The clouds are conspiring with you against me, I can see no sunlight. The trees are closing on me. The ribs of my chest are expanding on my body’s expanse with every exhale, and crushing my heart with every inhale. I wanted to let go of myself. I wanted to get rid of the person I was, for you. I wanted to scream, but I could barely speak. I was tongue-tied.

The forest, my Love, yearns to listen to our story. My burned desire had to be put into words. All the tremor-less, seizure-free nights were only a part of the blessings you threw into my life. I am flawless, and alone. I wish you would let me run back to you.

I’d gladly suffocate myself inside the infinitude of your thoughts. All the parts of yourself that you despise, are the parts I desire the most. You have become a physical necessity.

The Becoming.

I’m becoming a walking mess. All the guidelines I drew for myself are now hazy lines, I even doubt they still exist. How could someone that was always that sure of any and every thing turn into someone that doubts even their own existence? I wonder how the ground manages to shift from underneath you after you’ve finally felt that you’ve got the grips of it. Is there anything certain in this world? I mean who says I’m alive? Or that I am not someone else’s shadow from his past life screwing up his present life or may I say his afterlife? I don’t know. I don’t want to either.

I’m becoming a walking mess, and surprisingly, I don’t think I mind. I know they think I’m out of my mind, and they might be right, but I don’t care either. I might not know much, but I know that not all those who wander are lost; one must wander to find himself. I also know that numbness is a state of mind, where you get to block all the pain and sadness you don’t want to feel, but you cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness too. It is complicated for some people, but for me, it is easier. When you stop feeling things, you don’t have to react to anything anymore, you save your energy for yourself; you get to exist in silence, in peace.

I’m becoming a walking mess that is now comfortable with being emotionally detached from all of the surroundings. If people fail to understand the importance of spaces, you’re responsible in front of yourself to ask for it, demand space to breathe.

I was a person that was into anything for the long run, I was always in too deep. I was pushed into happiness by the moving crowd, but now, I am happily unhappy.

There are so many times when you know you’re feeling a lot of something, but you don’t know what the something is. So to the person I’ve been, if you’re still out there listening, I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with not understanding yourself. But I’m still here, and at the end of the day, that is what really matters for both of us.


-One of the pieces I had to write for my writing course.

The Un-piece.

This is a piece we had to write at the writing course, we were supposed to use “un” along with verbs even if they don’t exist. And here is my attempt.


She could never unremember all their memories together no matter how hard she tried, there are parts of you that are unerasable. She stood there unable to regain her balance. Unembraced was her all time condition without him. Even after all these years, she was never uncertain of how she felt. She believed some things are meant to fade by time, and others are there for eternity. But she never understood why certain things never lasted, and if they didn’t, couldn’t God make it a bit easier for her to unwish all these thoughts upon another shooting star. He left her in a state of an unfixed damage, with unfinished plans. As she stands by his grave tonight, she wishes she could unmeet him, or at least unsay all the words that left a mark on his heart. She wanted to ease the guilt she felt. He left her because she was never enough for him, in fact she knows she isn’t enough for anyone, not even herself. It is true the damaged love the damaged, but she was beyond repair. She was a mess of infinite apathy.

He always promised he had enough love for both of them, but along the road, he fell out of love. Unconstrained she let the words flow outloud for the first time in her life. All her daddy issues were nothing compared to the fact that she could have been with him but chose not to, because she was never able to unlove the first man in her life after he left for another family. And it was a bit too late to undo all the mess she has left behind.


Late-night confessions

Something about the night makes my thoughts flow non-stop, I guess it is the silence maybe I don’t know, maybe the darkness as well. Anyway, I don’t really care, all I know is I find comfort in writing at night. At night everything seems more clear than any part of the day. I usually think of my problems through out the day, but I only find meaning at night.

One thing I know for sure, I stop fighting myself late at night, I stop being so hard on myself; I stop judging.

And all of a sudden I hear all the things I have been keeping out echoing from deep down, I hear all the things I really want to do. I confront myself with how I really feel about certain things. They might be all dark and twisty things, but I -now- am fine with anything that comes my way, because I have known darker times. I don’t think I’m out of the blue yet, but I know I have moved somewhere else, somewhere where I could be just fine with who I really am. Although I don’t even have a clue about that yet, but at least I’m trying to find my way through the maze.

We all have our struggles, some harder than others, and I know there are so many people out there fighting to make it through one more night alive, and because they made it that far, I am willing to fight more.


I don’t mind living between two separate worlds; your reality and my head. I will suit myself, and do what suits you as well, because I know I don’t and can’t live alone.But after all, people have got to leave some space for a human being to get lost, for one shall find his true-self by wandering.

في العالم الآخر.

اللا شيء

فراغ وسكوت

أراني بـوضوح حتى أكاد لا أرى غيري

أصوات رأسي

اسمعها بـوضوح, أكاد أرى شوشورتها علي

هل هي أصوات في رأسي, من رأسي؟

ام هي اصواتي أنا التي طالما حاولت أن أسكتها؟

اعشق غيابي عن العالم, فـأنا موجودة لكني رحلت

فمنذ ذلك الوقت وأنا أعيش في عالم مليء بـأشخاص خيالية

أشخاص تحدثني طوال الليل, فتحرم علي النوم

افكارهم واضحة, افكارهم حقيقية

افكارهم مجرد انعكاس لي

فـأنا امكث في عالم موازي

أرى نفسي فيه بـوضوح

ذلك الوضوح الذي غاب عني لفترة طويلة ومازال غائبا

ولكني لن أنكر أني في شرودي, أكتشفت نفسي من جديد

فـأنا امكث في عالم موازي

حتى تستطيع أن تظهر نفسي في عالمي الحالي

و سأبقى هناك حتى إشعار أخر

لأني بـبساطة لا أمانع و إن كنتم جميعكم ترفضون

و ده حالى

إتنقلت من الإيمان بكل حاجة حلوة للتشكيك فى المسلمات، لللف فى دواير، و أخيرا للوقوف فى مكانى و عدم الأهتمام بأى حاجة. وقفت بس الدنيا حواليا فضلت ماشية، و بدأت تسرع فاكرانى كده هتحرك، بس تغيير مكانى مكنش من أهتماماتى. مكنش عندى مشكلة أفضل هنا، بس أعرف أنا هنا ليه، كنت عايزة وجودى هنا يزودلى حاجة


I set on a journey, not knowing where I am heading, but that is cool right? Sometimes you just have to let go and go with the tide.
I am there. Going anywhere.
At times I sink, but at others, I just swim backwards facing the sun.


It’s a mess that I’m sure was destined to happen.
And I’d rather keep you all out of the storm that I only seem to be enjoying.



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