Skip to main content

Dear Self, (I know)


Dear self, 
I don’t know how to tell you all of that. I don’t know if this is considered schizophrenic or weird. I only want to tell you many things in words which I could never deliver to you in silence.

First of all, I know I sometimes say I hate you so much. I never appreciate you or feel good about you. I know it feels wrong and painful. It’s out of my hands, really. Things slip and we never know how to catch them while they fall. We let things slip and they grab us down with them. I end up being depressed and sad. It made me hate you.
I don’t really hate you. I don’t, at least not as much as you think I do.

I sometimes wonder about feelings and emotions; I wonder if you control them. I know it’s not my brain though I know it’s a son of a whore. Do you control the emotions? Can you take over feelings and decide how I actually feel before making me feel it? If yes, please stop it. I don’t want to feel anything, not even numb. I don’t want to feel bad. I don’t want to feel good. I want to be left in peace.

Am I asking for too much? I know I could be asking for quite lots of things, but I have suffered from a lot more. I don’t know if you ever realised that or not. Do you?

Oh self, your soul is beautiful (that’s what people say and that’s how I feel when you make a good difference in someone’s life), just stop explaining yourself. Stop taking all the bullets of everyone. Stop letting them take you for granted, and stop the tears which are falling right now.

* A deep breath*

Now you are tired. I know you are because nobody feels you more than I do. Don’t explain yourself more. Don’t rant. You don’t have to explain yourself or let it out when you are sick to. I understand.

I know you have those footprints of people who let you down. I know it’s so painful and irritating how the memories go by. It makes you feel bad over and over. It makes you feel speechless, in a very bad way. I am going to give you a break. You will be left alone for a while. You will have time to feel good and bad. You will have time to heal your wounds, watch them turn to beautiful scars.

People make you sick, I know it. I will stay away from them, don’t worry. You will have some quality time. You might be able to stand up again, you might not. You won’t let anyone take you for granted. You won’t have to worry about the trust issues you have. You won’t need to fake being okay. You won’t have to be ignored; for you I am listening till the very late hours of the day.

I know you wish to fly away freely. It feels bad to have wings but know you can’t use them because you are stuck in a flesh.

I know a lot more than what I have mentioned; I also know that you can’t hear it anymore. 
I will remain quiet and watch your lonesome grief in silence, and I’m sure you wouldn't feel lonely because you and I are one.

Love always,
None.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

احداث كلية هندسة من يوم 28 نوفمبر حتي 10 ديسمبر.

بعد تطوّر الاحداث في كلية هندسة القاهرة قررت اني هاحكي كل حاجة بالتفاصيل لتوضيح الامر تماما. منذ بداية العام الدراسي و دايما كان بيكون فيه مظاهرات صغيرة عددها 100تقريبا (لم اتقن العد) داخل الجامعة تهتف ضد حكم العسكر و مؤيدة لرابعة. ماكنش بيكون فيه اي مشاكل و لا اشتباكات داخل هندسة مع العلم ان كان فيه ايام بيكون فيه برّة عند مسلّة جامعة القاهرة اشتباكات بس كانت مش بتدوم طويلا. يوم الخميس 28 نوفمبر, كان فيه وقفة كبيرة برّة عند جامعة القاهرة و كان الطلبة اللي عاملين مسيرة جوة هندسة واقفيت عند الباب الرئيسي لكلية هندسة الذي اُغلق امامهم لمنعهم من الخروج عند المسيرة الاكبر و ربما اغلقه الامن الجامعي لسلامة الطلاب لشدة الاشتباكات في الخارج. الطلبة ظلّوا يريدون فتح الباب و الخروج مع العلم ان الباب الخلفي عند مبني اعدادي كان ايضا مغلقا لموقعه جانب كمين الداخلية و دبابات الجيش المحيطة بالجامعة. تك القاء اول قنبلة غاز داخل كلية هندسة و اصدمت بمدني الادارة الموجود امام الباب الرئيسي تماما و تم القاء القنبلة الثانية و تطايرت بعيدا تماما عن مكان الطلبة المتجمعين عند الباب الرئيسي لتستقر امام...
Post a Comment
Read more

Charlie's poem from Perks of being a wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines he wrote a poem And he called it "Chops" because that was the name of his dog And that's what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and a gold star And his mother hung it on the kitchen door and read it to his aunts That was the year Father Tracy took all the kids to the zoo And he let them sing on the bus And his little sister was born with tiny toenails and no hair And his mother and father kissed a lot And the girl around the corner sent him a Valentine signed with a row of X's and he had to ask his father what the X's meant And his father always tucked him in bed at night And was always there to do it Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines he wrote a poem And he called it "Autumn" because that was the name of the season And that's what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and asked him to write more clearly And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because of it...
1 comment
Read more

Egypt, I am not leaving you till you are cleansed.

I used to feel so hopeless about this place. I remember those chats with friends when I said "I can't wait to graduate to leave this sh*thole". I can actually scroll down to my previous statuses and posts and see how desperate I sounded like after every forlorn incident which occurred during the past two years. But here I am, coming out of my flesh after muting my powerful inner voices. Here I am , not letting my mind trick me nor letting my heart lead me because freedom is way beyond a thought or a feeling. Here I am, letting the positive voices penetrates the fog and be deafeningly heard. I have always believed in the revolution and I still do. I have always believed in the power of people and change. Thus, I am not too hopeful nor too hopeless; I am just waiting for the right moment of change and I won't let it go. We have everything; the streets, the voices, the spirit, the chants and the motto. All is ready for this moment of the real revolution because it sh...
Post a Comment
Read more