Places

And the places we left behind long for us.

We were kind to them. 

We stopped to appreciate their beauty. 

We gave their corners fond looks.  

They listened to our conversations 

and laughed politely at my jokes 

while you ignored them.

They wait for us. 

Not knowing that we exist separately now.

Some Friendships Come With Expiry Dates

Is friendship a one-sided give and never take? Or is it dumping all your internal conflicts and issues on others expecting them to carry them around as their own? Is it thinking twice before you say anything and losing all spontaneity?
Enough about trying to unravel the true meaning of friendship that I am convinced most around me lack any sense of, when even I don't know whom to call a friend and whom an acquaintance?
How much should I worried about the prospect of not caring about the possibility that I might become more distant to someone I called a friend? Who am I to judge on whom the blame falls and how do I know whether I am the good person I take myself for?
It's not in my nature to become invested in friendships, not many at least. If anyone was observant enough to notice (which most of us aren't, if it weren't me I wouldn't have noticed it), they'd see how I don't really open up to most of my friends, I don't talk about what things I care about or things that worry me constantly. I'm comfortable this way. That is why I'm always surprised at how easily some find it to talk about their existential issues in life.

الحب هو ارتباك الأدوار بين الآخذ و المعطي
- مريد البرغوثي

Memories of My Childhood

A friend of mine posted photos from her childhood. I viewed them with envy. I wish I had pictures of my childhood. Maybe I have some but they're somewhere in Iraq. And then I started wondering if I've had a fun childhood. I've lived the first 7 years of my life in Iraq. All the memories I have of that time are very dear to me. Me and Noor (my twin sister) running to welcome baba when he came home from work and he'd drop the bags he's carrying and carry us both instead. This had to be somewhere before 1997 (as he left Iraq that year for better work opportunities and therefore be able to support us better) which means that I was 5. I remember being the girl who always fainted, broke her hair slides when she was angry and was the "evil" twin.

I remember leaving my friends and going to Jordan when I was 7. I remember writing letters to my best friend (who stayed in Iraq). I haven't heard from her in years.

When most Iraqis suffered from power cuts, we never did as the area we lived in was supplied by the same supply for nearby factories. I remember how my grandmother, may her soul rest in peace, used complain of her eyesight and still be able to recognize actors on tv. I remember when it was damp after a light pour of rain, we used to go out in the garden and find colorful ladybirds on bright green leaves. I remember sleeping in one place and waking up in another and being convinced that I sleep walked.

But I never learnt how to ride a bicycle, how to swim, how to dance ballet. I've had best friends who left me or I left them as either moved to a different country. I felt like an outsider. And that feeling stayed with me for a long time. I still remember leaving Iraq in 1999 and how we stopped in the middle of nowhere because we ran out of petrol. How my sister buried her face through it all because she didn't want to leave Iraq.

Maybe these don't qualify my childhood to be called happy but I wasn't sad when I was a kid, I didn't know any better, and going to exotic places doesn't make it a 'happy' childhood. When my older siblings talk about the wonderful playful childhood they've had as they lived in better times. But still the fact that I spent 7 years of it in Iraq brings me immense joy. I love it whether it was boring or not. 

21 عام

21 عام لم تعلمني العديد من الأشياء. قد تبدو بالقليل بالنسبة للبعض و لكنّي أظن بأنها كافية كي تعلمني بعض دروس الحياة.

21 عام  لم أعرف بها متى ألجأ إلى الصمت و متى يكون لكلامي وقع.

21 عام لم أكتشف ماذا أريد أن أفعل بحياتي. فظللت مسيَّرة في خياراتي.

21 عام فشلت في محاولاتي العديدة لجعلي أنضج. ها أنا ذا أتلعثم كطفلة لا تعرف التعبير عما بداخلها و عما تريد.

21 عام و ما زلت أهرب من المواجهات و أتجنبها.

21 عام لم تفارق خيبة الأمل معظم أيامها، لا ألومها على هذا فيوم تزول خيبة الأمل لن يكون هناك أية أمل بعدها.

21 عام و أنا أصحى من النوم و في داخلي غضب لا داعي له.

21 عام  ما زلت أسعى فيها أن أثبت قدمي على ما أؤمن به.

21 عام و ثقتي بنفسي تتأثر بعوامل قد لا أصرح بها فهي تعلو و تهبط متبعة معادلة رياضية أجهلها

21 عام و أنا في الدوامة ذاتها. أريد أن أغيّر بنفسي العديد من الأشياء و لكني أهواها فجأة في اللحظة الحاسمة لأنها تجعلني أنا 

21 عام لم أفلح فيها في إخفاء لحظات استيائي و انفعالي فوجهي شاشة عرض لما يدور بداخلي

21 عام بهُتَ فيها الكلام عما تعلّ به قلبي. فكان (مهما كان و من كان) أسمى من الحديث عنه

21 عام لم تعلمني كيف أحفظ سر هاذين الرقمين كباقي النساء. ها أنا أفصح به و أعيده في كل سطر ربما ثورة على هذا التحفظ الشائع.

Feelings on Shelves

Feelings stacked on the shelves, waiting to be picked up and cared for. While I sit away, content with my ignorance of them. Looking away even though I can see their shadow peaking from the side of my unfocused vision. Days later, I wonder at my neglect of them. Of this unfeelingness. Was I really content with this emptiness? Scared of a possible yes, so I grab all of those feelings and unfold them to catch up with what I've been missing. 

In came the feelings of others, all of their brokenness they try so hard to make me miss, all of the hesitancy in them and the mask they've been keeping over their voice so they sound strong. I wonder again how have missed all of this? I look carefully and see ugly selfishness paving the way I've been taking. Knowing it's a part of me I can't wipe out and that it'll come back seeping in if I try to ignore it and pretend it's not there. 

All of those connected and disconnected matters following a pattern too clear for me to miss. Pretense. So easy to keep up and pretend it's not there. Pretending not to pretend, this is the status I've been living in lately. 

Don't Come

Please don't come. I won't wait if you don't. I won't gaze ahead the road. I won't frown on the clock. I won't look vacantly at everyone who's not you. Anymore. 

Weeks later,

You didn't come. Did you hear my don't? Or were you persuaded by another "come" voiced from somewhere else?

The Ways We Are

The way you are,
isn't the only way for others to be.
The way you are,
may be the only way for you to be.
The way I am,
complicates everything for me.
The way I am,
makes me unable to sometimes see;
the way you are.

خجل

خجولة بطبعي. قد تستغرب من اعترافي الغريب هذا و لكني أشعر بالرغبة في إلقاء الضوء على هذا الجانب مني. خصوصا و أنا وسط حشد من الفتيات اللواتي يستطعن أن يعبرن عن أنفسهن جيدا بينما أتلعثم أنا للوصول إلى ما أريد قوله. و قبل أن تتصورني كفتاة تحمّر وجنتيها خجلا دعني أخيب ظنك و أخبرك بأن احمرار الوجنتين ليس من العلامات الملازمة لكل خجل فبشرتي صحرواية لا تسمح لهذه الظاهرة أن تطولني.  

لن أعرف كيف أجيب عليك إن طلبت مني أن أخبرك عني، و إن تكلمت فسأعطيك صورة لا تمت لي بصلة. فهلا أعطيتني مهلة كي أرتاح لك و كي يتلاشى خجلي و تصبح لدي الحرية للتصرف على طبيعتي؟

واردٌ جدا أن أبدو أمامك هادئة كل الهدوء حين تهب رياح عاصفة داخلي و تزلزلني أفكاري التي تراودني. فلا تحكم عليّ بأنني عديمة الشعور. عذرا لأنني لا انشر حالتي الشعورية في الجريدة التي تقرأها يومية. ليس هذا من طبعي.