The Cairene

He knew her. He knew her secrets, and every single lie and mistake in her life. He knew her flaws, all her insecurities and how she was perfectly imperfect. He knew her fears of heights and her love for hiking. He knew her pain and all its reasons. He knew her scars and all the stories behind each, in details. He knew her mind, her inner voices and heart stitches. He knew the places of her scar-less wounds, inch by inch. He knew her current bruises and the ones which faded away. He knew every hickey she had from random guys before him, and he gave her more. He knew her very special birthmark on her lower part of her chest; he blew her many kisses over it before. He knew the heat of her body, with all of its temperatures and levels. He knew when she felt breathless before she could even feel her chest pains. He knew when she was going to cry before the tears even reached her eyes. He knew her favorite songs by The XX and The Fray, and the chorus she loved the most. He repeated ...

In this moment, where I am writing this line, the world population count is 7,121,438,075 and it decreases and increases every millisecond of time passing by. I stopped focusing with the number and start thinking that I am one of that count, I am one of the seven billions other people struggling through life. Then I scrolled down and saw the number of deaths and I starting thinking to myself that one day, I will be one of that count as well. I found myself drifting away from all of the numbers and my head took me to self questioning. Who am I? I am one in an ocean of people. I started to think to myself, I am just a person; a tiny flesh compared to everything else, starting from humans and ending at atoms, molecules and every little thing created in wide vacuum. I, as a human, should live for self and others. I am going to admit that I, apparently, happen to not like people so much, but I am still something. I want to cross a line and leave my mark somewhere that I have decide...

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 ...

I find happiness in food, peace in books and life in death. I find smiles in pictures, pain in faces and souls in breaths. I find secrets in eyes, scars in flesh and movement in rest. I find lies in words, tears in rain, and loneliness in souls. I find power in words, weakness in voices and sadness in flesh. I find hypocrisy in feelings, knives in love and blood in ‘I love you’ I find chills in change, memories in revolutions, and fear in the enemy. I find panic in laughter, reasons in questions and answers in gazes, I find everything in black& white, and meanings in colours. I find beauty in art, God in peace, and infinity in believing. I find myself lost, home in your shoulders and warmth between your arms. I find everything in you, the right and the good, the wrong and bad. I have found you once, but not anymore.

I don’t what I want to say or how I am going to start this. Let’s agree that I will just let my fingers touch the Keyboard and the bullshit will come out eventually. *SPOILER*: I am going to just rant. If you aren't allergic to bullshit, keep reading. If you are allergic to bullshit, keep fucking reading! Falling for someone is stupid. Needing someone is awful. This ain't working but i am just expressing how I have realised that there is no such a thing called getting over someone or forgetting about them. We don’t simply forget about someone who once moved us. Some people will always own that corner of you brain no matter how fast they ran or how bad they hurt you.  It doesn't have to be about love and relationships, it’s just about human beings and their power to ruin each other.  Maybe you don’t keep wanting that person in your life, but there will be time when they start fucking up your mind and their small corner in your brain w...

I am mentally exhausted. I am broke and I don’t know if it’s because I want you or because I won’t admit it to you. I don’t want to know either. I’d wish to have you but I won’t. I’d tell you that I need you but I don’t. I can’t love you as much as I like you. I am falling but not in love and I don’t know what I am falling into which is making it more sophisticated. Yes, I want your least attention but I don’t want it because it makes me greedy while I can’t have more. I am sick of over thinking about something that will never exist. I am sick of you and your perfection in my eyes though you are so screwed and imperfect.  Your name depresses me and puts a smile on my face at the same time. But I should hold my shit together and you aren't letting me. I am stuck in the middle of liking you and not having the courage to tell you about it. I don’t know my chances but I won’t chase you. I know I will eventually hate you. I do now but I don’t. Sooner or...