Embrace

There were times I wondered if my want could ever surpass my need and by want, I meant the feeling of being loved and in love.

It's been a year or more since I've had any particular person(a special one, of course), to whisper and mouth words of lust and infatuation into my ears as well as his, as though they were a sacred prayer that only both of us knew, a dream where both of us shared precariously and without skepticism in sight(a foolish quality that I still possess, unfortunately) and all this has amounted to the sudden, occasional questioning of things: Am I ever, really good enough for someone's love?

Men from all walks of life who've surprisingly stumbled into my mine have either seen me as a friend or more than that of a friend yet less of a lover, wanting me to get involved in commitment-free relationships that could satisfy both our needs in term of emotional inaccessibility. Some might say, I am the cause of my own perils - I am the one who's been too involved with these men when I've shouldn't known from the start that they could never be the ones I can ever truly rely on. From each of them, I've received heartache and from each of them, I could feel a little piece of myself being given away and that as a whole, these cracks have left myself feeling more hollow than that of the last.

Timing is everything, yes, but after 24 years of going through the same motions of giving your heart and love abundantly to someone whom you adore and care for, yet being rejected or unappreciated for doing so, takes a toll on you. You start wondering if your flaws are too large to be minimized and that maybe throughout your life(and the ones before), this is God's way of reimbursing and placing penance upon your previous, faltering sins.

But coming back to the question:
Am I ever, really good enough for someone's love?

I used to think I was but now, I'm not so sure anymore.

December Weather

When someone knows that they have you at the tip of their fingertips,

you can assume that they'll either treat you right

or that they'll try to screw with you.

Mine,

unfortunately did the latter.

Noticed

Summertime Sadness

Remember when I said change is something I'm uncomfortable with?

Trying to figure out where I'd be able to live once I get back to Egypt because I'm officially without my original housemates makes me feel like I've suddenly hit a roadblock, an indispensable roadblock and I'll be frank with you, never in the longest time have I yet felt screwed - this is unfortunately, one of them.  

October

I can feel that for this particular month itself, so many changes would start to take place. From losing a steady set of hands that I've counted on for the past few years to finally getting myself into my last year of medical school, things are shifting far more faster than I could imagine. Yet how have I adapted myself to them, remains to be unseen.

I admit that I don't adapt easily to changes.
In fact, I'm scared of them. So many things to get used to within a limited amount of time that you seem to be pressured to ensure that you don't mess up your situation and yourself up in the process. But there's also the unprecedented beauty that a new challenge can bring yourself to realize - that you are able to undertake whatever obstacle that comes creeping or running through your way, even when it makes you feel like a complete shit halfway through it.

And that's life.
No matter how much you wish time would start to slow down or at least stop, the world wouldn't heed to your wishful thinking and it would then still keep on moving and moving and moving and within a wink of an eye, five years have finally went on by and thing will be different, people will be different, you will be different and once again, that's life.

Brand New Day

And do you know what I want the most right now?

To be far away from everyone, from everything. To not be bounded by stupid emotional frivolities that don't even matter within the next few days, weeks, months, years, decades and so on. To be hardly affected by the sudden rush of unimaginable, tiny, tragic tragedies in my life. To finally be free of the shackles that have been holding onto me for so long.

But I can't, because how could I?

When you're the one I've once worshipped, always counted on for guidance, to give me the love I've always know? How could I live without that light that has once prospered before me, yet now shone no more clarity? I, who has once hit rock bottom, could always depend on you to lift my spirits up sky-high but now even such travesties don't seem to budge your ever emotionally-stunted heart like it used to.

And now I wonder,
if you'll ever be my first knight in shining armor once more.

Wild Horses

There are those amongst us, a few from the many,
Who are known as the girls that may seem aplenty.
That dream of dreams that stretch beyond that of the bluest skies,
That lust for things that may take a lifetime to arrive.

"You are different", you once told me,
"You dance to a different beat, You dance to a different drum.
You have a mind that's hasn't been sought out nor has it been sowed,
and this makes me wonder why a girl like you is still then, forever alone."

"It's because you're wild," you then answered,
"An untamed spirit that knows no confinement.
You do whatever you want, whatever you please,
and that's why men are afraid to take on this big 'liability'."

"Women like you need to be trained, need to be altered,
Women like you need to accept things as how they've already been destined.
Because there's no place for a woman like you who has visions of 'pipe dreams',
Because don't you know my dear, that this is a world only meant for men like me."

But that's where you're wrong and that's where you're amiss,
Because a bridled soul like you could never understand the bliss.
The privilege one feels from an escape to distant territories nor dreams,
The sweetness one associates from being a wild horse - it's freedom and it's liberty.

We are considered wild for all of our thoughts and for all of our doings,
Everything that opposes society's views of how a girl should be fully.
But remember that we have our own minds and our own opinions,
Beliefs, we view to be important and not up for analyzation.

Because being a wild horse is itself, a beautiful thing,
To have a fire in you burn, with such passion and gleam.
But only a few could see nor understand this spark,
While others may consider this more a flaw than that of an art.

A wild horse should never be broken down nor should it be restrained,
Instead, a wild horse could only be understood by that of another mate.
Someone to run along the open-pastured fields with, basking in it's beauty,
Someone who's dreams and aspirations are those of ideal notability.

Because if all the wild horses are left repressed, are left askew,
Who else would be left to mend this world from embers, ashes and soot?
Who else would be left to reach and procure impossible feats?
Who else but a wild horse with passion, faith and dreams?

You may say that I dance to a different beat, that I dance to a different drum,
But that is what makes us wild horses, different, unique and one.
And if we had to change our views, our opinions and our fantasies,
Know that this world wouldn't last on just broken horses nor crippled visionaries.

Maybe One Day

Plans,

that's all we've ever made,

sentences that start with the words,

"Hey, maybe one day... ."

"Maybe one day, we could do this..."

"Maybe one day, we could do that..."

From the littlest to the simplest things,

It all feels different with you being there.

"Maybe one day, we could learn this..."

"Maybe one day, we could learn that..."

Cooking, photography, books and art;

We've lost count of the things we've once been enticed.

"Maybe one day, we could go here..."

"Maybe one day, we could go there..."

Be it through land, air nor sea,

Crossing continents we never thought we'd dare.

But one day didn't come,

One day didn't appear,

All those plans we've made were just illusions,

Fragments, beautified by it's prismatic appeal.

Captivated we were by our vision,

Foolish we were by our lust,

That we soon forgot about the present,

Blinded by the insipid sentiments of our love.

And now one day couldn't happen,

One day couldn't occur,

One day was just a dream,

Built upon our once endowed, kaleidoscopic sphere.

The Healing Process

The other day, I had the courage to unblock you on my Facebook and it felt liberating.

Once again, I wasn't afraid of you seeing my profile nor I was with yours. Once again, I had no difficulty seeing your name whenever it popped onto the sidebar with an affiliation of ours. And once again, there was no hint of emotion - anger, sadness, whatsoever - that took place within me when thoughts of you came crashing onto me.

It was as if I was cleansed.
My conscious crystal clear without a hint of doubt.
Rid of all the dirty muck that my mind had once burdened itself with.

But then I was stupid. I over-estimated myself. I wanted to prove that I've gotten stronger and better - emotionally and mentally. I wanted to show that I could move on without the likes of you and so I took a few more steps forward, more than what I should've approximated and here I am, replaying the scenes/sentences/conversations of what seems to be an awfully long time ago.

I could feel myself suffocating from the 4 walls I've subsconsciously built around myself and now here I am, wallowing in my own pit of despair; a place where I've successfully avoided for the past few months prior. But tonight, all that has turned into shambles, a joke that is both pathetic and sad at best.

All that crock about me being able to move on, to look past the hideous, detrimental effects and consequences of love and all of it's unmentioned, remaining calamities are statements that I found to be questionable. They say time heals all wounds and although mine has only been less than half a year and nothing more, I wonder when will I be happy again. When will I just stop thinking about you when a particular song starts to play? When will I stop wondering if you'd ever felt that same lust I've felt towards exploring new, unchartered terrains? When will I stop imagining your laugh when a joke sparks our common sense of humor?

But most importantly,
when will I start feeling whole again?

Induratize

Barcelona intoxicated me and there was no doubt that that mere city alone could make me conjure up thoughts of how my twenties could be smoothly played out in that foreign land - living in that wonderful mirage of a place, in a small, cozy apartment that I'm able to identify and proclaim proudly as "my space", where paintings retrieved from different parts of the world are hung with such exclamation as their colours exude a pleasurable thrill to any stranger's eye and how their metaphors would require any genuine passerby to question their mere existential selves. Visits to art galleries, walks in the park, attending plays, seeing and experiencing live bands; a life as wonderful as that would complete me so, I believe.

But once I arrived in Granada, crossed through that particular open doorway which led me into Alhambra's castle ground, my mind was astounded with the beauty that was presented in front of me. The castle with it's enchanted ceilings, beautifully decorated walls that were embellished with handcrafted Arabic calligraphy which were then adorned with the 4 primary shade of colours that were known to each and every seeing man, in the form of squared tiles that were delicately and elegantly placed.

However the sight of these intricate wonderments suddenly brought up a pang of sentimentality that my  once careless heart used to burden itself incessantly with. It was weird and unexpected, to be honest. Here I am, half way across the globe, initially enjoying myself in another country of uncharted territory, exposed to the world and it's endless possibilites, magnificence and charm right before my very eyes and without much of a hint nor indication, I found myself dumbfounded by my heart's negligence to rouse up old, hurtful memories which I've carefully hidden in the most remote corners of it.

Suppressing emotions has never been my forté(and never shall it be for quite some time) and I began to wonder if I am ever ready for the trials and tribulations that my heart will experience sooner than later because it's obvious that it can't.

But what if, what if , what if...

Adapting

Hey readers(if there are any left, heh),

I'll be changing my blog's URL pretty soon so I'd just like to give you guys a heads' up regarding it. Ask me about it if you're still interested to follow me, as I'll try to write/blog as much as I could and should. Hope all is well on your end and do have a nice day/night!

Audible Sighs

"I'm not sad but the boys
who are looking for sad girls always find me.
I’m not a girl anymore and i’m not sad anymore.

You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated,
So that people can say, ‘Wow, isn’t he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’

You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star?
I’ll swallow you whole."

- Warsan Shire

Always.

“And when someone takes my picture and they tell me to smile, I still think of you.”

- Iain Thomas