Chaotic

A moon child in love with the sun. I would like to think I am immortal and made of stardust.

[purpleentries]

3 AM

It’s 3 am and I am inhaling air and exhaling smoke.

It’s 3 am and am inhaling air and exhaling smoke.

It’s 3 am and am inhaling air and smiling.

Smiling at the thought of you.

It’s 3 am and I am loving you.

It’s 3 am and am loving the universe for giving me.

Its still 3 am and am inhaling air and exhaling smoke.

It’s 3 am and am thanking the universe for you. Thanking the universe for a lot, for a few, for a couple, for you.

All for you, always for you.

It’s 3 am and I am loving you, it’s 3 am and you are loving me.

It’s 3 am and am in awe for deserving you. For deserving this, all of this.

It’s 3 am and it hurts, it hurts to deserve this.

It’s 3 am and it hurts that you sleep, while loving me so deep.

It’s 3 am and it still hurts loving you, only that it doesn’t hurt at all, not anymore.

It’s 3 am and am blessed be, to have found you, loved you, in this life and until the last turn of all of my lives.

It’s 3 am and I still love you, now, and always will be.

It’s 3 am and I always will be, thankful, grateful, hurtful for thee.

It was 3 am and now it’s what? 7 pm?

It’s 7 pm and I still stand here and utter these.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

[purpleentries]

3:21 am, February 4th, 2019, Jeddah

I am waiting for the plane to take off, taking me back to Egypt. Back to reality, and away from my mother’s warm arms.

I regret yelling at her earlier when I momentarily lost my SIM card, I regret not hugging her tighter and longer at the gates, I regret a lot of things. Mostly I regret making homes out of people. For I made a home out of you love, I built this whole mansion out of all my secrets and midnight thoughts and the regrets I whisper silently to myself, and I sold it all to you. Like a doll house, I religiously imagined you inside of it, sharing a life with me, sharing me with me, with us.

I regret it because now am waiting for the plane to take off, and I am not able to share all this with you, instead I write it down in my note, hoping one day you would come back to my doll house and read it. Hoping you would actually hold me while I cry through these words, but I know that they will end up as a ball I choke on at the back of my throat, as I hold my tears and words back from spilling them all on you, or is it more to you now? No it’s more of you watching me spill every ounce of sanity I have, watching me break into a million pieces; with utter sorrow and pain in your eyes. And this my love, is the one thing I most regret, and yet not regret at all; loving you till I am speechless.

[purpleentries]

Dahab, Sinai

January 23rd 2019, 2:55 am.

I feel content, like a floating speck on the crashing wave to form a sea-foam.

I feel the lazy walk of time, how slow it pasts. How vividly aware of that phenomena.

I feel accomplished to reach my full potential, if only for a couple of minutes standing on a rocky ledge by the sea, mentally kneeling before the moon.

I feel connected to every living, walking soul goes by, even if not necessarily loving it. In fact, I have always had this sense of unfamiliarity towards other humans, but I still connect.

I feel as though all the weights I have been carrying have run off like a little kid chasing an escaping balloon. Hopeful but tired.

I feel sad, beaten-up, totally alive, aware, magic, enchanted, exhilarated, guilty and already dead; all at once.

I feel self-excluded, yet self-tranced.

I feel whole, and hollow.

I feel, completely and utterly, feeling.

And now I am okay with feeling all while ending the book I have been writing for so long. It’s now time to publish, and time for me to depart.

And words will forever be immortal

[purpleentries]

The end.

[purpleentries]

12:03 am, 4 July 2018

When will I start writing again? The number of times I have opened this blog to start pouring out my words and closed again with a blank is countless, almost 3 times in a day.

When will I be excited to get a text from friends again? Instead I tend to have over 11 unread chats from people I truly love but I just don’t have the energy nor the guts to tell them am not okay enough to reply like a normal sane human.

When will I stop expecting people to pick me up from the mess of grey I have fallen into? Instead I lay still, silently crying my emotions away.

When will I start trying again? When will I start trying to be okay again?

I am not okay.

[purpleentries]

A morning, 9:40 am

It hit me right as I was standing at the stove, like the slow bubble of the coffee as it starts to boil; these heavy thoughts start to seep and bubble into my mind. I quickly shrugged it off and poured me a cup.

It hit me again, as I started cutting into my perfectly fried egg on a toast; and so I watched the runny yolk douse over everything underneath, just like those poisonous fears douse over every inch of my being. I was covered in obliqueness, my finger was covered in yellow.

It hit me again, in the middle of watching a fast paced action movie, only then everything slowed down and I could feel myself slip into the endless cobweb if loneliness and grey.

It all looked so grey. The blue sky coloured grey. The stainless steel kitchen sink was grey streaked with yellow left overs and crumbs.

My room coloured grey drapped in blinds. But then it all looked black as I went back to sleep, in a disperate attempt to prevent me from shattering and letting all my colours drip away.

[purpleentries]

A war

It’s 2:26 am and I am lying in the wreckage. The wreckage of all the people I broke, breaking. The wreckage of the catastrophe that went down last night by the bomb. The wreckage that is me right now, silently sobbing my guilt and regret in.

A non-asked for hug would have diffused me, it would have spared the casualties of a judgmental word have triggered.

Curses were fired, anger was shot, blame and more blame was dropped like a heat-seeking missile. And just like a child witnessing war unfold, I too was afraid. I was afraid to lose my home.

[purpleentries]

11:12 am

For how long will I keep pretending like am comfortable with the people around me, while deep down I am actually rocking back and forth like a 5 year old in a corner, inaudibly screaming out my depression. Dryly crying out my pain, the pain of constantly not feeling okay and not knowing why. Or maybe I do know why, but the answer to that why is so much of more than a tumblr post can hold. That last time my heart got wrenched out of my dying body changed me for life, scared me with a permanent tattoo of fear and fright from love, from being love and loving another dying body. All what's left of me now is a mess of an anxious human with a very numb heart and a dark sense of humour.

[wordsnquotes]

I hope our daughters are born with so much fire in their souls, they could put volcanoes and stars to shame.

Nikita Gill, Girls Made of Fire (via wordsnquotes)

[mypenleaksiridescence]

Stop playing with my hair. Please. Do you want me to fall in love with you?

(via mypenleaksiridescence)

[purpleentries]

1:20 pm

Have you ever sat there wanting so desperately to spill out all the overflowing mess of thoughts onto a paper or a blog but couldn’t? You open up the notebook, you open up a new note on your phone, and then just faltering and closing everything, tucking it aside; just as you tuck those clutter of mind mesh at the farthest, darkest corner of your mind. Well I have, and it took every ounce of energy left in me to type this with my eyes still wet from last night’s flood. This is no rant, nor a call for help. This is me declaring, or more like finally admitting something I have been running away from. I am not okay. I am not fine, and I haven’t been for a long while now, it seems as if all happy memories are too distant to distinguish. I know I have been distant lately, been distracted, dull. Wore a common lie of “I am alright” like an Invisibility cloak to hide away my constant pain. But no more, I am not alright. I might be going into depression now, or it might just be a phase, but whichever way it is, am done hiding. A very good friend told me the one thing I didn’t expect. To stop tying so hard to be okay, and just laying back in the mess and pain, feeling it fully. “Lay back and watch the stars instead” he said. And watching the stars and moon do their nightly dance, I shall.

[wordsnquotes]

And I dream too much and I don’t write enough and I’m trying to find God everywhere.

Anis Mojgai, “For Those Who Can Ride in an Airplane For the First Time” (via wordsnquotes)

[wordsnquotes]

When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside.

Rumi (via wordsnquotes)

[purpleentries]

8:17 pm

They never seem to end. One moment I am okay, doing something mundane, and the next my world collapses as my bony cages cave in to push all air out of them. Like I push people away from me, unable to let them see how dark it gets inside my knotted head, unable to let them watch me overflow with pain. Hot, sour tears overflow my face, burning tracks for my demons to come out of my own mind and into the open. And out in the outside world, they just seem like a normal panic attack. So vulnerable, so fragile, like that delicate membrane of serenity the breaks every time I breakdown. Let me fight them alone, they are my own battle to spare.

[urqv-blog]

[purpleentries]

12:08 am

But friends aren’t supposed to make you cry yourself to sleep. Friends aren’t supposed to make you regret sending them a text and not getting any reply back. Friends aren’t supposed to make you feel discarded. Friends aren’t supposed to make you swallow back that lump that forms in your throat every time you want to blurt out your pain. Friends aren’t supposed to make you feel afraid to reach out for them. Friends aren't supposed to make you feel pathetic. But maybe that’s what life is, friends are human, and humans are supposed to make you feel things.

[purpleentries]

2:30 am

And maybe this just another mindful rant to the void, but here goes nothing. The idea of a sudden end has always troubled me. One day a human contact can just end. One day an aching depression can end. One day the days of being love drunk can end. One day a human ends. And this, by far, is the most fascinating yet sad truth of all. A human ends, suddenly, swiftly, vaguely just comes to their ending. And it leaves me wondering, why aren’t we all thinking about this? No, why aren’t we all acting upon this? We take people for granted, we play games and stop talking to them just to “teach them a lesson” waiting for a specific response from them. But what if they just end, and you would be left wondering why haven’t you said goodbye, only to let guilt eat you up alive, and so, you too end. Yes life is short, but it’s also worth it. People are worth forgiving, worth fighting for, worth loving. And no amount of mistakes should ever make you discard a human you care about for your own selfish reasons. One day, they will end, and so shall we. I’d rather end while showing someone love, than to watch them end trying to prove their love for me.