The Cairene

It has been too long since I last left my house to listen to people in the street. For more than two months, I wasn’t really interested in listening to anyone, especially after I have been through a lot of personal problems. I wasn’t feeling excited about helping anyone anymore. I usually had unhealthy thoughts ringing in my head and telling me that people don’t really deserve me. I used to tell myself that I can’t even hold my own sh*t together to hold others’. I simply spent most of my time alone, yet, I was still lost. I couldn’t find myself in locking up myself in my room. However, I loved solitary. I loved every moment of it and considered it precious. I searched for myself, but I still couldn’t find me. I can’t deny that I have found a huge part, but there was still a missing piece in my soul’s puzzle. I searched for it everywhere, but nothing. Until, at last, I decided to love out of my bubble. I did. I took the cardboard, left my locked room and roamed around the streets ag...

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 ...