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 ...

It crossed my mind that one day, I'll grow old, really old, with shaky hands, wrecked skin, grey hair, tired eyes and a face full of wrinkles and stories. The thought itself scared me that I went and look at the mirror and thought to myself: "One day, I'll look at this face again from behind my 80 year old eyes. I'll look at those picture and plead for the things I could have done but didn't, shou ld have said but decided to not to. That's going to be really heartrending". I am still scared of this painful thought.  Then it occurred to me that I might not even be there to watch my nephews, nieces, and -maybe- my kids grow old in front me, and I became more pained.  I grow up everyday, and my face is the proof. I grow up everyday, and my feelings are the reason. I age and age and age, till one day it'll strike me that I have wasted a lot and I will be too reckless to even take myself to the bathroom or have a walk to the market.  It's not just ab...

Earlier this month, it was my friend’s birthday. I asked him about what he learnt during his folded year, I wanted him to tell me life taught him in three sentences or more. He summed it up in one word; Solitary. We nearly analyzed this word and talked the perks of being able to live through solitary and finding blessings within. I looked back to the moment since I crawled out of my mothers’ womb till right now. I didn’t really eye-witness the moment I was born, but I am sure I was crying like any other tiny baby during the delivery process. As babies, we are always crying, I really have no idea if it’s out of sadness, fear or pain. You can never read a baby’s brain, not even remember your own reasons when you were one. I am sure it wasn’t tears of happiness; it was cries of something far from happiness of course. The point is, we were crying. We are naturally sad. I know happiness can exist in few scenes or instants, but sadness owns the originality. I am just saying this to refr...

Roaming around my room, feeling numb but moving; my legs were holding me hardly when I couldn’t hold the weight of my world. I saw a body looming in the mirror. I don’t know who that was or why it was moving unsteadily, I didn't bother. I approached the mirror and I was antagonized.  I looked closely and I saw her. A girl, in her latest years of teenage, was staring at me. Something about her caught my breath away, and I couldn't point that thing out. He face was pale, dim and bloodless. Black circles around her eyes like the seven colors of spectrum, but in black shades. Her eyes weren’t scary, but jaded kind of scary. I couldn’t know where she was looking or what she was staring at about me, but I saw my face in her eyes’ pupil. I noticed her fading green of her iris, and was haunted my image inside her pupil once again. I wanted to know what she was seeing in me, but I never knew.  I swallowed my saliva and grasped for a single breath of air. ...

Some things happen without a sign or a miracle. I lost all my wars and battles, and I don't know why. I feel sad, all the time, like there is nothing that ever make me smile again although I try. I fail, and I don't know why. I am always down, being grabbed deeper below by some abstract force and I don't fight myself. I don't know how. I have lost interests in all what I have always loved and I can't go back. I can't get you, nor my old self back. I won't try because I know my inner voice will say 'I don't know'. I don't know what I am writing now or what's the point, but if you are asking; here's my answer: I don't know.  I take long walks into the dark side. I like it in a way that I have never known. I am messy, emotionally numb and confused. Don't ask, we both know that I don't know.  I watch people and sank into their moves and unspoken words. I know them all, but when it comes to me saying what I saw out loud, I just...

It has been a long while since I let out my inner bullshit on my blog. I haven't been writing anything about my own feelings, or I didn't try to put them in words, pour them out through my shaky fingertips pressing on the keyboard buttons, confused and bewildered. I am not sure of what I want exactly and I am not sure if I going to do anything about it. As for now, I am trying to put the letters next to each other to end up making any sense. I have to let it out. I need to. I need to runaway, and by running away, I don't mean from the place where I am sitting right now. It's not about home, it's not about land and it's not about this fucked up country. Those things are really small compared to all what I have inside my head. It usually feels like a whole new universe but without a sun or a moon. Light and dark comes in the form of emotions and feelings. The worst thing is that there's no time or clocks and it only hits me. It hits and grabs me along as I ...