My journey

"Scream!", a voice inside my head said. I want to but I can't. I stay silent. I look at my phone. Nothing new. Just the usual; people fighting, and others falling in love thinking this is it. I kill you in my mind. You never even existed. I want to break something, hit someone or at least scream. I do none of these things. I look away. I'm surrounded by emptiness even though there are several people in here. I recognize none of them. I see empty faces. No facial expressions. Dullness. I turn around. It feels like being imprisoned. I want to escape. I don't make a sound. Again, a voice inside of me tells me to scream. I can't understand why. I wonder if anyone actually feels the same. If it's even possible to feel that way. I stay quiet. I maintain a polite yet fake smile. I look into that emptiness and notice I'm all alone. I force myself to stand up and walk away. As I walk I try to figure out what this is I'm feeling. I walk back and forth until I finally see nothing at all. What is this? I don't know. But then again, I couldn't care less. So I move away from everyone and everything, aimlessly, just trying to understand myself. Or better said, trying to understand that voice.

توقعات

رأيتك تدخل فركدت نحوك. توقعت منك التقاتى و معانقتى. توقعت أن تبتسم. توقعت أن تسعد بلقائى. توقعت منك الوعود. توقعت إعادة التأكد مما كنت قد شككت فيه لوهلة من الزمن. توقعت الكثير. توقعت الكلام معك. توقعت أن تعوضنى عن كل ما قد فاتنى. توقعت أكثر مما استحق. توقعت أكثر مما كان المفترض منى توقعه. توقعت ما كنت أتمنى حدوثه. توقعت قربك. توقعت أكثر مما أنت قادر عليه. توقعت أكثر مما أعطيتك أنا يوما. هل تعتبرنى أنانية؟ طماعة؟ غير قادرة على إعطاءك ما تستحقه؟ توقعت الكثير فتوقفت عن الركوض. توقعت الكثير و لكنى لم أتوقع هذا. لم أتوقع منك هذا. ليس هذا. و ليس منك أنت. 

وعاء الذكريات

تتوقعى رحيله فتتمسكى بكل ما تملكيه من ذكريات لتحتفظى بأكبر كم ممكن من الماضى فتتحول ذاكرتك إلى وعاء كبير تحاولى حفظه من الزمن الذى حتما سيصل إليه و يؤثر عليه و يحطم جدرانه حتى يصل إلى ما بداخله من ذكريات فيصر على تحطيمها، فيتركها بدون حماية تتلاشى ثم تطير مع الرياح غير تاركة لأى آثر لها أو أية خيوط تربط بين الماضى و الحاضر فتتحول الذكريات إلى ماضى لم يعد له أى وجود فى ما نطلق عليه الحاضر فتستيقظى فى الصباح غير قادرة على تحديد هويتك. فيمر الزمان.

Sugar-coated

What is trust? I thought I could trust you. I cannot afford any more disappointments. I won't let anyone know that because of how dramatic it sounds. I hate that my parents still somehow think I can't handle the real world myself. It hurt when they sugar-coated the truth claiming that it was for my own sake. Why didn't I tell them how bad it made me feel? He said he liked me then, but I said I didn't and chose to push him away. It has nothing to do with him, because I actually liked him a lot. My friends said we resembled each other a lot, but nothing did they know about how different we were. I don't trust people. Not because they don't deserve my trust or because I'm any better, but because I have no right to bore them with my stories. I said I didn't like him, because he had no good reasons. Why would anyone like me? Why especially me? I'm just like any other person. There's no such thing as teenage-love. I pushed him away and he didn't understand why. My mom doesn't understand why I act like a guy all the time. They think I just want to be a tomboy. I prefer to stay silent. I love the virtual world just because I can hide behind a chat claiming to be happy while I'm actually crying myself to sleep.They think, we interpret, she believes, they assure, he misunderstands, she claims, I choose not to answer. Most of them mistake my silence for arrogance. They think I hate them while I actually think they're the greatest. I don't say a word, because I have no idea what to say. I can't let the words flow out of my mouth just like that. But then again, I once tried to let everything out. It was a mistake. However, what is trust?

Supposedly a family

Messy heads. Twisted tongues. Broken personalities. Exhausted organs. Smoke rising up above. Drinks being spilled on the floor. Loud music and fake laughter filling the air. Messed up thoughts. Broken people. Shattered smiles. Bald heads. White hair. Juvenile adults. Dramatic endings. Accidents. Coincidences. Fate. Miserable children. Crashed children. Damaged children. Spoilt teenagers. Dreamy teenagers. Arrogant teenagers. Heartfelt compliments. Hypocritical greetings. Failures. Secrets. Careless fathers. Failed relationships. Lost lovers. Energetic fathers. Loving mothers. Broken hearts. All together in one room. Sharing the same blood. Claiming to be one entity. A group of people who have nothing in common yet call themselves one family.