حلم

تعبنا فهرمنا فشربنا؛ شربنا نخب يوم لم يأتى بعد، نخب حياة لم تبدأ بعد، نخب شخص لم يولد بعد، نخب فكرة لم تطبق بعد، نخب حرية لابد من مجيئها، نخب مستقبل ملامحه غير واضحة، نخب عدل حتما سيعم، نخب تغيير لم يأتى بعد، فسكرنا و انتقلنا إلى عالم لا يهتم إلا بما لم يحدث بعد، فحلمنا بحودثه، فاستيقذنا، فوجدنا أنفسنا فى عالم لا يهتم على الإطلاق؛ سواء كان الماضى أم الحاضر ما نتكلم عنه.

You think I do.

The note you left under my doormat made me furious. "How could you?", I thought to myself. You think I care enough to understand your reasons? Never. You think I'm considerate enough to grant you some peace? Never. You think I'm bright enough to realize you're tired? Never. You think I'm wise enough to ask? Never. You think I'll ever look at it from your point of view? Never. You think I'm rational enough to reconsider it? Never. You think I like you enough to even care? Never. You really think I'd bother to even listen to you? Never. We'll meet again and I'll look at you and remember what you've done, but I won't care. Because I don't. Or at least that's what I say. Or what I'm supposed to say. Or what I want to believe. I don't know. However, the note you left under my doormat made me furious.

They came to leave

They had never seen you before. They meet you. They come in. They look at you. They look closer. Pause. Your mind drifts away. You ask yourself why you let them in in the first place. The world is moving again. They sit down. They start talking. You're not interested. Tense atmosphere. They ask you something. You don't notice it was a question. You don't answer. They're offended. They ignore you. You don't seem to care. You sit in silence. They look at you again. You notice their stare. It makes you feel uncomfortable. Tension again. Pause. Who are these people? You don't even know them. Can you possibly say you know them? How vague or intimate is your relationship with them? They notice you're not mentally present. Your mind is somewhere else. You look at them. They look at you. You look into each other's eyes. Based on your very shallow judgement, they look very happy. You look away. Pause. There's a mirror in front of you. You notice you seem happy as well. It depresses you. Are you happy? You talk to them. Small talk. Why are they here? What exactly do they want? Questions occur. You keep asking yourself. Unanswered questions. It doesn't matter. Period.

The stranger

I want to meet a stranger at a train station, let him know my story, tell him all my secrets, walk away and never see him again. Maybe he'll understand.

Your circle, my circle.

You're sitting in a circle. You're in the middle of it, you can see them all. You try so hard to maintain a fluent conversation with everyone. You run out of things to say and you're no longer interested. It shows on your face. You're trapped. You feel like you're trapped. You no longer want to be in the middle of this circle, but you're too cowardly to admit that. So you fall asleep.