Fluent Thoughts

Riding a camel in the desert of life alone no matter how many people are around. Long was the journey I’ve walked, that I no more can stand the backache.

It’s usually 10 years old a young girl would wish to reach; but I never thought of ten as a good age or enough years. “I want to be 27″ I would say blocking on the word seven “Twenty S……Seven”.

Why is it 27? And what did I think I would accomplish if I reached such age; I’m not sure. “27 is very old; you will be an adult then” Hajar would say “So?” “You will be a very old women” “No I will be a beautiful lady” very sure of my reply.

This July I will turn 27

 P.S. Photo taken by Ra-1

It was very early in the morning when she decided that she will be just her, from now on it’s only her but a part of her will pretend to be a part of them. She became her that pretended to be part of them until she became an adult who forgot that it was all pretending. She woke up one night by the sound of just her crying, she didn’t recognize just her and thought it was some one she didn’t know

“who are you?”
“I’m just you”
“I thought you were a dream I had once, or twice”
“I wish I was”
“I’m not what I’m pretending, am I?”
“No; you are just you”

It’s when she started crying with no tears.

According to the big space of the unawake part of my mind there was more to see than what I have seen; it wasn’t just a dream and wasn’t something that I forgot for a period of time, it was there yet in denial.

Should I ask what happened after or should I simply forget it ? Oops I mean deny it.

…….

A lovely thought
Flowers always bloom and eventually they will fade.

A Lovely event
A friend’s birthday; when the clown makes fun of your stammer.

A Lovely word
Relax and take a deep breath before you talk.

A lovely day
A gloomy day

…….

I trusted it
Although it was always
Shameful, harsh and disappointing

…….

في فينات هذا الزمان أخذت بغدره
فحكى الدهر في صفحاته ألم طفلة
فتح الكتاب و تقلبت صفحاته و أنمحى ما قد يكون في زمانها
ليكتب غير زمانها زمان

…….

Get sense
Do sense
Talk sense
Or die soon
…….

Have a splendid weekend all

In three levels she was made; before, during and after. All three made her the now.

A hand touching hers while a sleep, wakes her up and takes her hand in hers, they fly while still on ground, they fly past time through a calendar where there are no days, no months and no years.

Before

Life is no where and words do not exist. Nothing tangible is there; the only thing that she can see is dreams of a little girl with lots of friends that don’t exist.

A giraffe toy with a long neck, its back is a box where her toys were placed.

During

No one; no where and nothing to be seen.

A question was asked; the question was never answered.

After

She is no one but the girl before; a heart that is different and a mind that is different still the same soul.

A teddy bear and Charles Dickens books.

Now

Before, during and after.