Tuesday 1 December 2015

Dear owls, the lack of kindness.

Dear Owls, 


My mind has blurred out a lot from this world. With each thing that I see in the real world, through real life experiences or news article/ update, it just brings to closer to the conclusion that some people just shouldn't be alive. It's a scary thought to think that someone with the same organs as you wants to do harm to others. It's also a disgusting reality. 

We learn from a young age not to trust strangers, but we disregard the fact that the people who know you best are probably the ones that end up hurting you in the end. So, what if all those people being hurt by others are actually hurt by people they knew? Regardless of who is causing terror across the world, it's still happening. People sometimes, I believe, stray from the ultimate reason they were put on this planet- funny how it has nothing to do with hurting others. 

If you don't want to believe in the afterlife, you might at least want to believe in karma. The famous old, "What goes around comes around". The perfect example to this is a yawn. If you yawn, someone else will probably yawn too. You probably yawned at this sentence because you imagined someone yawning... and so the cycle continues. (or you yawned now) 
Yawning is very much life doing bad to others. If you hit someone, someone will probably hit you back eventually in life. If you did something evil to someone, someone might actually do the same evil to you or maybe to your children in the future. 

But of course, this generation only cares about now. It is a generation of trends not footprints. They don't care if they leave a mark in the road at the end of the day, they just want to insure they've been paying attention to the next best thing. 

The world is changing. And not to the better. Regardless of what you probably see on the infamous media platforms, you need to start framing your own opinions about what's going on around the world. You can't rely on someone else to tell you what you should think. One day you might regret making the mistake of leaving your voice in the hands of those who cannot speak kindness. 

With all my best, 
me. 


Saturday 14 November 2015

Dear Owls, God.

Dear Owls, 


I don't talk about God much on my blog and it's not because he's not an important part in my life, but because his value in my life is so great that I don't really know what to say. I believe that God has and will always be there for me no matter what situation I am put into. And this reminder keeps the monsters under the bed, keeps the dirtiest secrets clean and keeps my mind at bay.

See, what I love most about God is his presence, his stand with me. Some people don't know God like I do, and that's rather sad. I know him. I truly got to know him every time he has been with me throughout all my battles. In my times of desperation, I pray to him and everything is instantly better, at least in my mind. I know from the teachings of God that forgiveness and letting go are the most important things in life. 

"This life was designed to break your heart"

Putting your life in the hands of humans is pathetic, and most people do it. God knows I did it. If you were made weak, how could you expect other people to depend on you? You're allowed to screw up. You're allowed to look back at your life and see a few messed up days. To err is human, to punish is the monstrosity. If someone has made a mistake, God has trusted me with the responsibility that I will forgive and forget. After all, when you are under the ground, naked and bare with no one to talk to but your angels, what will you say? Will you tell them how you spent your days on earth gossiping, fighting, swearing, complaining and making life harder on yourself? 

See, life wasn't made to be easy. God put us through things that will eventually teach us a lesson. When I was younger, I would blame everything on everyone else, telling all my friends that my life sucked because of so and so factors. Growing up, I realized that was bull. Blaming people gets you nowhere and it's the most chicken thing I ever did. Fessing up, seeing that you're in control of your mistakes and past... that's what got my engines turning. I stopped living for others and started living for God. I started living for my rewards later on, and even if there are some who speculate the afterlife- at least do people a favor and live a good life for your own health. 


It's been proven that people who keep things in their heart have unhealthy minds and bodies. So, no thanks. I'd rather live knowing that I lived every single second of my breath with compassion, with love, with kindness. 
Even though mercy doesn't pay the bills, it pays the debts. Debts that you've held people accountable for, loans of promises of people gave to you that you just don't know why they don't pay back. Humans cannot be depended on. For a matter of fact, humans can't be trusted- not that I don't occasionally try to test that theory. The truth to the matter is that every body is going through something different, and it's just wrong to expect someone to prioritize your life over theirs. You need to be able to pick yourself up whenever you need to and wipe off the dust, while having a support system of course, just don't place your happiness in the hands of a human and complain about the damage done. God is greater than everything and everyone. Placing your happiness in the palms of God is the one true insurance to not getting heartbroken. 

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow, Learn as if you were to live forever" -Gandhi

Probably one of my favorite quotes ever, I love to live by these words because I can't stop learning. I doubt I will ever retire from my ever longing search to learn. Google is my bestfriend. Books are my right hand. Even the movies and shows I watch are the one true things that keep me going because they do teach you a lot. I think we are shaped by what we know and by what we don't; they go hand in hand. 

"Last night I lost the world and gained the universe" C JoyBell

This world is just step one. It is a test and a hard one. You don't have to believe in God. You don't even have to believe in anything and that remains a choice that you keep with you and I have nothing but respect to your choice- but I just can't say I agree. Sometimes believing in the unseen can keep you longing for more. Sometimes in your times of true confusion, you need something so great to remind you where you're going. At least that's the case with me.

 But if you want to believe in a higher power, you need to believe that losing the world is step one. Lose your need for material, your need for popularity, your craving for money, your lust for love and possession, your untamed hunger for more. You can't be happy in this world if you're running after things that were made to intrigue you. You need to seek to be comfortable, content and compassionate. Not happy. You should be happy about being comfortable but not the other way around. Being happy doesn't mean you have everything you want forever, it just means for that second in that little amount of time, you had what you needed. 
Happiness doesn't last very long. Put your comfort in things that are ever stable like, helping others, the stars, a beautiful sunset, seeing another human smiling. 

Be humble and stop asking people to give you what you need to seek alone. The quest for true purpose is hard, it's confusion and time consuming. However, it resonates to these few things; learn, laugh and love. But always work hard, without compromising these three things. 

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.” - Erma Bombeck

Seek the things you want most in life, gain friendships and lose them if you need to, the same goes with money. Don't be afraid to lose the money you gained. Don't be hesitant to call an old friend. Don't underestimate a simple wave to your neighbor. 
Don't sleep on the things God gave you. 
Don't count sheep, while others count blessings. 
Everything that God has put in your life is written to be there. It didn't magically land on your plate. Every grain of rice is a blessing from God that you need to remind yourself others don't have. Don't however get mad at the fact that others don't have this blessing- let God do his own job, let him teach people whatever lessons they need to learn and cleanse their soul in whatever way needs cleansing. 

For those of you who don't believe in God and feel somehow uncomfortable, I don't apologize for this post. It's my blog and I want to believe that I am free to talk about whatever crosses my mind. If you're offended in any way by the this, you're welcome to stop checking my blog. It's really all a choice after all. 

I respect everyone's decision to believe and not believe whatever they want, however when you start stepping on someone else's ground, telling them who you think they should be and what you think they should do, that's just a bit too much. People should really start focusing on their own path and realize that we really do have a purpose in life and there really is something waiting for us at the end of this rainbow. Some rainbows shorter than others. Reassess yourself every now and then and just see if your life coincides with the one God expects of you. 

Love to everyone and safe wishes. 
My heart goes out to all those in mourning to what's happening around the world. 

Me.

Sunday 1 November 2015

Dear Owls, journey to the center of the earth.

Dear Owls, 

What do you do when the only thing you can think about is how weak you are? What do you do when your feet tremble at the thought of thinking about thinking- just because your thoughts are that messed up. Feelings are always confusing. Mine are just annoying. A friend told me that it's only human to feel, but what she didn't understand was that I was simply tired of being human.

The idea that you've been putting on a smile for so long to only have it knocked right off your face is nerve wrecking; it's repulsive and a perfect definition of a waste of time. However, it's only human. It's the only way to know how strong you are as a person. If we didn't go through things that test our last breath, that make us feel like falling into a pool and never coming out, we wouldn't know how amazing each of us truly are.

Friendship is a powerful thing. There are two types of people, some who say you can choose your friends and others who say friends choose you, that you can't really pick and drop who you want your friends to be. For a very long time, I used to think I was the second type. I thought I could go through life and let the right people come to me, but now I'm not so sure. I still stand with the belief about myself that I can never get too close, I can try but there's always something in me that will be afraid of disappointments- mostly those I'm responsible for. But lately, the sight of friendship amuses me. It's just a beautiful thing to see friendship among people; a series of conversations about the past of each friend, people they've met or people they are yet to meet together, inside jokes and memories being shared. Seeing people laughing so hard, they need to cover their faces so deep into the ground, past the mantle down to the inner core, their face coming back up flustered red from the intensity of the heat.

Laughter is someone I've lost in touch with, an old friend Adele would probably sing about. I want to tell laughter that I've simply been on a journey of self recovery, and I'm coming back for it. Sometimes you need to leave certain things in your life and come back to them only when your strong enough to face the heat without getting burnt.

Yours,
A returning traveler.

Monday 26 October 2015

Motivation || How to Get Over the Deadly Writer's Block

Step one: Refreshing 

Sometimes, all you need to do it drink some tea or coffee and brainstorm what is the message you want to send to the world. Everybody has something they want to say, once you find out what it is you find important- write about it. Just put in some bullet points and make a story out of it. 

Get some perspective on your topic. Whether you want to write a novel, poem or short story about a certain topic (love, mystery, action, thriller etc...) always make sure you've done enough research. People will most likely listen to someone who has legitimate information about what they're saying.

Step two: Start somewhere!

Writing about a writer’s block is better than not writing at all.
–Charles Bukowski

More times than others, you've got an idea, you've got a plot, character list, trigger and ending... but you have NO idea where to go about from there. Here are a few links that are SUPER helpful to start you story somewhere:

Here's a link to generate random first lines to your story with (check out the links on the left, they've got other generators too!)

http://writingexercises.co.uk/firstlinegenerator.php

Here's a link to FULL of other links of other generators with a genre or theme, amazing stuff and great content!

http://www.springhole.net/writing_roleplaying_randomators/plotgens.htm

Here's another link for prompt makers, but on this site you can make 10 at a time if you wanted. 


Here's a link that tells you "How to make your novel helplessly addicting"

http://victoriamixon.com/2010/10/04/5-ways-to-make-your-novel-helplessly-addictive/

Step three: Try something new 

  • Go to a different place and write
  • Write at a different time: If you write at night, try waking up early and write when you've got peace and quiet. If you're really committed to writing, this task won't be too hard.
  • Coffee, tea and chocolate: I stress on this point the most.
  • Write about not being able to write: Most bestseller authors confess that sometimes this is the only thing that gets them through writers block. It's funny how allowing yourself to write badly or about our weaknesses can help.
  • Watch videos and short films on YouTube to feel inspired.
  • Slam poetry, TED talks and motivational speeches are other cures 

Step four: Read More Books 

To become a writer, we need to learn from other writers. 
In the process of getting too excited to write our book/story we sometimes forget that we need to do the research first. It's boring and tiring but every writer needs to have a background to what they're writing. I love blogging, but I sometimes dislike the "research" part of things, because it takes forever to find what you're looking for. Don't get me wrong though, researching is really fun when you're JUST reading and learning- when you research to put things in your own words, things get much more annoying. 

Unfortunately, it is a crucial part of writing because, like I said before, people will respond better when you can back your story with facts (if it's necessary) For example; if you're writing about a Russian Spy, at least research a bit about what you want to say and if it's actually realistically possible. You never know if some nerdy kid in Russia calls you off on your lie about how "Kenya is the capital" or something less obviously absurd. 

When all else fails... read articles about the problem

Everyone goes through these days, but what you shouldn't do is just stop writing because it's not your day or month. Sometimes your best worst comes after a drought. Keep working and trying to get things write, even if you have to let yourself mess up a few times. 
Remember, it doesn't need to be perfect!

Wednesday 21 October 2015

Dear Owls, observer.

Dear Owls, 

It's been a bumpy road from insanity to a more stable insanity. 
This semester, I've been more busy than ever and I like it. Of course those around me will beg to differ because of my mini (understatement) freak-out sessions. However, I like that I'm doing a lot. It's beats doing nothing. I'm in a ton of clubs to which I'll elaborate on later. I'm in 

I want to read more. There are so many stories in books that I don't even know about, that thought kills me on the inside. It literally creeps into my soul and makes me want to pause time. My God, if I could just pause the world for an hour... all the books I can catch up on. 

Each morning, I wake up being grateful. All the stories I read about people around the world, all the problems people face, it gets me so emotional. It makes me want to stop complaining. For a club, I was reading articles about problems around the world and I just keep stumbling on one thing after another. It's like it never stops. 

Tomorrow, I've got a thousand things on hold. I'm so stressed but blessed to have this kind of stress in my life. Sure, I'm screwed if I don't get everything done... but where's the challenge if it's all smooth sailing. 

It's been a while since I've written something on here, but I haven't got much to say really... just an observer these days, watching what life has to throw at everyone else including me. Sometimes you get more lessons out of silence. Sometimes saying something leaves more scars than it should. 

To all those who aren't sure what to say; always speak your mind. Tell the people you know what's on your mind, or at least, tell them the truth. If you can't do that- join me in being an observer- don't say anything.

Yours always,
me.

Thursday 17 September 2015

Dear Owls, destruction.

Dear Owls, 


At this point in my life, I'm just so caught up with all the unfortunate people around the world. Everything that's going on, specifically in the Arab world, just brings so much pain and aching to my heart. It's gotten to such a point where I really become so down and lost in thought about it. I've been keeping in touch with all the news and updates about all the situations going on around the world.

I don't even have my social media on my notifications, but I do have these News updates so that I know exactly when something new happens and I can read the article about it. Some of the people around me have told me how this is all just negativity and that keeping it out of your mind is so much better for emotional health; but does avoiding the problem mean that there isn't a problem? Is it okay that I just sit here and listen to all this bad stuff happening to all these good people? There's nothing I can do and there's nothing I will do because wars have been going on for centuries. Ever since mankind began, war was always an issue. But acknowledging the problem, praying for these people and spreading the world is the least I can do, it's the least everyone can do.  

However, this is insanity. People being asked to leave their countries. Refugees being thrown at the borders. Many of them, most of them children! It's such a hard weight for my heart to carry and my thoughts and tears go out to the mothers of these children, the caretakers who have to watch all this happen to them while they die on the corner- their last memory of the universe, their last sight would be their children's blood spilling on the floor of those who did not have enough power to keep their floor white. And who do we blame then? Who do we curse at? Who do we aid?

And what about what happened in Makka, Saudi Arabia? No worries about the people who died being squashed by crane, but what do I say about inconsiderate people around the world who cheered for this crane, calling it "Karma for the towers on 9/11". What is wrong with the world? What is this logic that we have been using? Does nobody see how damaging labels are? Making it easier to hate people at a faster rate, simply by saying "I hate Muslims" or "I hate Americans". That's almost like saying you've met EVERY single American there is out there and you've managed to hate them all. 

All this used to be a joke before, but I'm not sure that people realize how serious this is. People are desperately fighting for the things we take for granted, for things we go through normally on a daily basis. So I ask of you this, the next time you take a warm shower, drink a sip of water, eat an apple, or even go to bed with at least a blanket... please just appreciate it. Be grateful and happy. Sleep like there's literally no tomorrow, because for some people, there sometimes isn't. 

Do this for a few days and watch your world change. The bag you thought you "really" needed becomes another thing that's just a luxury, the stain on your favorite shirt becomes a battle scar, your headache becomes a blessing of surviving a long day of hard work, your fight with your parents becomes another opportunity of bonding moments through resolving and every breath you take will feel so valuable, you almost want to bottle it up and cherish it. 

This world is becoming too drawn away from the ultimate purpose, which is not to make money but rather make meaning. Do your best today, do it for someone who's taking their last breath right now. 

I'd love to hear your comments.
Yours always, 
Me. 

Sunday 30 August 2015

Dear Owls, life changer.

Dear Owls, 


Many times, it's been proven that those who come to my rescue are people I've been ignoring my whole life. A simple conversation with a stranger I judged turns into a good friendship with someone. Sometimes, we are too quick to judge people, we forget that they deal with their problems in a different way. A very good example would be my encounter with a girl in a Book Fest, around the month of April. At first, I thought she laughed a little too much at everybody's joke. Especially the boys'. And so, being a girl, I wasn't too slow to give her the weirdest looks and my imagination went wild. 

"Wow, have her parents not raised her well?"
"Does she not know how to contain herself?"
"Is there something wrong with her hormones?"

My thoughts were kept to myself until the girl came and sat next to me. She smiled and said, "That boy is such an idiot." I smiled back and asked her how long she's known him for. She told me she just met him, just like I did. So, I couldn't not say anything. I looked at my bag and remarked, "You laughed too comfortably with him, so I assumed you knew him longer."
And just like that, I turned into those girls I swore I'd never become. She laughed once more and said that she loved laughing. 

Later on in our conversation, my mother called and told me to get home because she needed me. I wasn't prepared to go home alone and we found out that we both live in the same area. She noticed that I wasn't ready to be alone and offered to take a Taxi together. I loved that suggestion because at that time, I was going through some stuff and I avoided being alone as much as possible. 
In the car ride, we talked... as all girls do. And I found out that her father had passed away less than 2 months ago! I immediately hated myself for thinking all those thoughts. I loved her energy and bravery. She was laughing off the pain every step of the way, and I mistook it for a behavior deficit. My stomach turned and I spent the whole ride listening to her grieve.

She had been really close to her dad and he was really healthy. He died of a heart attack and she was expecting everything but that. She told me she had to be strong for her mother who was practically falling apart. Her story, like many others, had inspired me insanely. 
It also taught me to be more open with strangers, get to know them and understand more about their stories. Anyone is willing to talk about themselves, the trick is to know how to get them to start. Everyone that passes by us smiling, is most probably tearing up on the inside. After all, this world is a masquerade and we're all wearing our finest masks.

To anyone who's reading, I hope you take the best out of this. If this girl happens to read this too and recognizes it's her, thank you. You gave me a piece of the puzzle that helped me get through an emotional time in my life. Many aspects influenced my rise after a great fall and your encounter is something I value. It was short, simple and needed. I wish you all the best. And this just became a letter inside a letter. 

Yours always owls, 
Me. 

Sunday 23 August 2015

Dear Owls, Oceans.

Dear Owls, 


Something about the ocean feels right. Although I hate visits to the beach, I am aware, deep down, that everything in this world is somehow connected. If we are more conscious of our surroundings, we can alter anything we want. To a certain extent, I do believe that we can remember the past better than we lived in and that sometimes, we can predict the future. It is in our mental capacity to remember an unlimited number of things for an unlimited number of time if we truly push ourselves to the limit. We are also capable of recalling memories from a third person point of view, and sometimes, thinking we are somewhat disconnected to this memory- a watcher, if you may. We can jump through our thoughts in and out without leaving footprints, because no matter how many times you may lose yourself daydreaming about going to Paris, you are aware at the end of the day that you did not actually visit it; not your physical body, at least. 

I also believe that Déjà vu is a remarkable thing. I may have overthought it, but for imagination's sake, let's say we could tell the future... maybe just for a few seconds even. Wouldn't that explain why sometimes you're thinking something is going to happen and it does. Or when you're sleeping and you wake up to a scream, but then seconds later someone actually screams? There are so many things we are yet to discover about the human mind. We keep connecting it to monkeys, apes and God knows what else. In reality, humans have proven to be extraordinary in all their abilities. We change constantly. Our lives seem to have purpose and meaning. We are the only species that create, lie and destroy as per our own wishes. A lion may seem destructive, but it's only to feed or protect. Not all humans kill humans to protect, and here's me hoping none kill to eat either. 

There is so little we know, although it's funny how we never admit to it. As soon as someone knows a little more than we do, we give them a title, a pedestal. We call them doctor and hang up their degree on a wall and let them tell us how much danger we're in, how much time we've got left. And I'm not only talking about physical doctors- but all doctors. Space, earth, mental... everyone who has the privilege of earning the highest honors degree. I'm sure those who do work hard are more informed about a lot, but anyone with that much information can muster up two or three words about astronomical behaviors and other fancy words I'm not sure I want to try to say.  

At the root of it all, we still don't know how far the galaxy goes (and infinity isn't an answer), we still don't know if we're in this Universe alone, or if we're on Earth alone. Everyone has their own explanation to everything and nobody's willing to hear you out unless you're on TV. 

Something about the ocean feels right. As if to say, "Why know more about land on Mars than you do about the water on your own land, given 3/4 of it are oceans?" 
I think that tells us a lot about humans. The oceans are ourselves, our feelings and emotions. But we jump to the neighboring planet because whatever lies hidden is just too hard to understand, too deep, too unsettling and yet too familiar. 

Wednesday 24 June 2015

Dear Owls, legal.

Dear Owls, 

This year, I turned into an adult. Not just by age, but by wisdom (or so I want to believe). I learnt lessons, tried new things, reminisced over old memories, found good people, lost loved ones, and I needed to find a way to move on with life. This year, I truly marked a stepping stone. In the midst of confusion and doubt, I was slowly turning into the person I am now- and I like the person I am now. A person who, despite all troubles, would still smile through the pain. A person that has found genuine happiness and satisfaction in the stupidity she has once done and learnt to embrace every aspect of herself- for once in her life.

On some days, I wonder why God brings people into our lives, only to snatch them away, but I remember that with each person he snatches away, a lesson is embarked on our souls. And our souls need to be upgraded. Our souls cannot handle routine. I have met great people and done remarkable things. I’ve lost and loved and loathed and left and landed on all the places I needed to land on.

I, for once in my life, have started to see the world through the eyes of Roman Gods who once mocked the mortals. I relate to the poetry I once wrote, and take advice from the people I once blocked out due to stubbornness. I have started to watch people break people’s promises, lie to get what they want, gossip about insecure girls, and take all the time in the world simply to bring each other down. You can’t see it if you’re standing next to them. But you can if you go far up. You can when/if you visit the moon, it’s so much easier to see the world for what it truly is, for what it was truly made for.

This year, owls, I sat on the moon for the very first time.

I sat on the moon and realized, I can never truly run away from humanity. No matter how far I go, something will always bring me back- be it a memory, a sibling, a mom, a responsibility. I sat on the moon and felt like it were merely a beach, overlooking a typhoon of busy fish swimming in a small world that promises us death the day we are born- and yet we attach ourselves to the silliest things. The moon, unlike anything I have ever seen, taught me how to live life. It taught me that lessons were meant to be a breaking point to another chapter. It taught me that chapters were meant to complete my story. You become a different person when you visit the moon.

The moon: being a very bad metaphor of becoming an adult. However, humans will always find their way to put you down. They’ll tell you your past is dirty and your path isn’t worth living. They’ll tell you the moon doesn’t exist and give you fancy quotes to prove it. This year I learnt that no matter how far you go, you can never truly go too far- battles weren’t meant for fleeing.
The moon, no matter how far it sounds, will still be not-far-enough, because even on the moon, you will find footprints of a human.

Ps; Today marks my 18th birthday. Now, I'm an adult- and I'm not sure I can handle such a title. What scares me is the difference one year can make. Here's to another year of absolute confusion, because let's face it, I'm always confused. But more importantly, here's to another year of love, laughter, lessons and family. 
I hear from a little bird that now I'm (legally) a woman; thank you, legal does have a nice ring to it. C'mon world, bring on the yearly blood tests that only "adults" get, who cares if I might faint 3 times at best? 

PPs: I love you, mom. I publicly confess my love and utmost gratefulness towards you. If it weren't for you, this year would have been a complete mess. Thank you for getting me through the bad times (and the really really bad times) and being there to clap for me during my good times. For all our letters, jokes, laughter, fights, make-ups, conspiracy theories, shopping sprees, debates in the car, debates everywhere and sisterly talks. I thank God for giving me what he knew I needed most. May we forever share the bond of girl power.

Yours with chills of birthday vibes, 
me.

Friday 19 June 2015

Dear Owls, the grey.

Dear Owls, 

I find myself wanting to be free, but feeding my own chains, wanting to run away, but finding places with quicksand. It's an odd adventure to float around your feelings, be cautious which ones you should visit and which you must leave behind.

I find myself wanting to do what's right, but racing from the past of mistakes. It's an odd feeling to have the overwhelming need to tell everyone you know that you're sorry, even if most of them owe you the apology. It's not fun, but it happens to the best of us (so I'm told...)

So, what happens when your walls are closing in and you feel like the only person you can ever rely on is yourself? What happens if you know you're happy, but you know you're not where you want to be? What happens when everybody around you seems to think someway and you're stuck in a magical level? The level of knowing too much but feeling too little. When you're wise enough to know what you did was wrong, but you're too scared to try to live again?

What happens in the grey? The space between white and black, when it's not wrong or right, just somewhere in the middle.
What happens when you explore all the colors?

Your past is not hidden. Your past is important, and a lot of people that I've met recently have told me otherwise, but I don't buy it for a second. It's impossible to think that the only thing you can do is live for the future- that only happens to the luckiest of us (if you can't relate to what I'm saying right now, you're probably the luckiest of us..)

Sometimes, grey gets boring though... and seeing the grey in situations is how you know you're officially older. Maybe, deep down, I just don't want to see in grey.

Yours always owls,
me. 

Thursday 21 May 2015

Dear Owls, happiness

Dear Owls,

Today in psychology, we learn about happiness. We speak about it, all knowing that we are all wounded soldiers walking on this battlefield. We become more fragile when we speak about death, divorce and depression- the three D's. I notice, some people think that happiness can be taken away from them, others believe if they have it once, they can learn to have it again. There is a silent boy in my class who doesn't speak. He listens to the answers of many and contemplates then scribbles something in his notebook. I wonder what he's thinking. I wonder if he's happy. I wonder, does he know that far from the room, there is a girl who's looking at him, anticipating a response. Every class, he speaks once. All he says is that life is hard and everybody has a different perception of misery. 
I wonder what he means. I wonder if he's happy. 

Today in psychology, the teacher told us that boredom is worse than depression. She explained to us that boredom can mentally destroy our happiness because we begin to feel that life is a routine and our life has no meaning. I wonder if I'm happy. I wonder if watching other people in my class helps me understand humanity or leaves me with more questions. There is a girl in my class that nods her head whenever someone says something like, "...but that isn't always the case." regardless of what we are speaking about. It's almost like this girl, with her hands on her bag and her eyes on the class, is waiting for someone to speak for her; and she'll applaud them with a simple nod. I watch this girl and I anticipate her nods. I wonder if she's happy. 

I watch the class and I think about the many things that we all must be going through. I wonder if this lesson will leave us with anything but doubts about happiness. I wonder if we're happy. I look over at the text projected on the board; "Your past does not define you." and I think to myself, "so why does it bring me down so much?" 
Why does everything that has happened bring me down sometimes. Why does it remind me of the times I thought I was happy; maybe I was happy? More importantly; Am I happy now? Yes. 
But nothing changed. Everything is still as jumbled up as it has been for a year now- I just woke up one day and decided I wouldn't cry about it again. 
So, I didn't. 
I am happy, but I'm also human, which entails that I won't be happy all the time. We all have those days where we think life isn't on our side. But what got me through everything is God. If He's on my side, then I genuinely don't care who else is. 
It's a strange concept, happiness. It opens up a lot of doors and I doubt a university course could find the keys to this doors. I think about the people in the class and I wonder how many of them are happy. I scribble down a number on my notebook and smile. 

I wonder, if I was right in my estimation. Then again, everybody's number changes due to their perception of happiness.
15 students in our class; how many would you say are happy? 

Figure it out,
Love, 
Me.

Tuesday 19 May 2015

Poem || Papercuts

Choosing to become a writer was the stupidest thing I've ever done.
A singer can allow the world a sneak peak into their life
Without making too much of a mess.
And the sad little girl who plays the piano
Can seduce the world into her sadness
Without even telling them the reason behind
      Or why she doesn't delve for a cure.

But me?
I chose to become a writer
And when I offer the world my past
It's a party.
And there are red plastic cups everywhere
Alcohol on the floor,
I use it to purify my wounds 
From the paper cuts because
I chose to become a writer
      And paper is patently our worst enemy

Choosing to become a writer
Is like choosing to commit suicide
With childproof scissors.
And you keep trying
In front of the whole world.
But they're laughing because
Somewhere along the way, you
managed to find a way to make mockery of your tears.
You managed to show people the brighter side of
A not-so-pretty-picture
And how flabbergasted would they be
To find out they're been laughing
At puns that have memories of deaths
Stitched to their edges.
They're been drinking at a party
            That was intended for a funeral.

Choosing to become a writer
Is like telling the world your secrets,
and hoping they don't connect the dots
It's like spreading your fractured wings
And wishing for the best
It's like 3AM heartbreaks that are
encased in rhyming words
And cheesy jokes
It's like saying you've never been so happy
And writing a poem like this.
        that's another paper cut.

It's almost like you're lying to yourself.
                 But maybe you are happy.

But writing was never a choice.
Writing is a jail masked as a safe haven.
With all the loonies in the world,
selling bestselling books about
Love lives they could have had
Marriages they could have saved
           Paper cuts they could have avoided.


Saturday 16 May 2015

Dear Owls, big world.

Dear Owls, 

The world is big. The world has so many people, sometimes I lose myself wondering how we're all just hanging in space. We're all just living life, winning poker games and losing loved ones by the second. I chose those two examples because they're both by luck. We have no control over what happens next, unless you've rigged the poker game, then that's totally irrelevant to what I'm trying to explain. 

The world is big and I suck at reading maps. Why countries separated themselves and created boundaries and roads that split to cities is beyond me. I will never comprehend why humans always want to find ways to seem more lonely. We seek the differences in each other and whine about the inequality. We silently judge each other and blab about not being able to express emotions. Most of the time, I think humans just want to live a lie, they want problems. Problems somehow make meaning to our life. We want to get lost in a big world because the space means that there's still things we cannot fathom into problems.

The world is big and I find myself getting lost in it. Slowly, my thoughts hover over random days and months and years. Slowly, I find myself getting lost in the simple complications. I find myself trying to find a solution for everything. A solution for sadness, grief, loneliness, fear, denial and life even. Because for many of us, life sometimes becomes a problem. At certain points in your life, you begin to wonder if your purpose is of any use or if one day you'll amount to something. But when I ask myself if I'm worth it- what exactly do I have to compare myself to? Technically, I'm the only person in this whole world who's been through the exact same experiences and moments in my life. The story I've got written for myself cannot be shared with another soul; maybe the scenarios could clash, but there is no other person with the same past, same emotions, same thoughts. This keeps me going. I feel like maybe I am needed for the story I hold- maybe I am needed somewhere. 

The world is big, and I need to buy a GPS. 

Saturday 9 May 2015

Again, Life.

I am the brave little boy that stands in front of his abusive mother and tells her to stop. 
I am the mother that lost her mind trying to pay the bills. 
I am the pain in her eyes. 
I am the hope in her voice. 
I am the cold winter laugh that sings Jingle Bells to those who need to hear it. 

I am Life.

I am the soldier in the war of never getting the right luck. 
I am the blood slipping down his eye, I am a tear drop on the floor. 
I am the man in the suit cheating on his wife. 
I am the doubting wife. 
I am fear that love is never true. 
I am fear in general. 

I am Life.

I am the girl in the dress that never fit her waistline right. 
I am the insecurities that tie her down to the ground. 
I am the prom queen who doesn't like the king. 
I am the pills being shoved into mouths of those who do not want me. 
I am anger at the breakfast table.
I am the loss at the end of the poker game. 
I am a gambler.

I am life. 

I am the lies you feed your brain. 
I am the loss of a best friend.
I am the cake with no candles. 
I am the birthday that passed.
I am the thieve that stole your voice.
I am the cold phone handle. 
I am the lost Skype connection.
I am your past. 
How did it get so messy?

I am Life. 

I am the wind that only brings hurricanes. 
I am the tides of liquids that only hurt your liver. 
I am the third drink at a bar. 
I am the regret the next morning. 
I am the ache at the middle of the night. 
I am the baby crying for milk. 
I am the mother too drunk to feed it. 

I am Life. 

But I am also joy. 
I am new beginnings. 
I am sappy movie trailers and long walks. 
I am stupid snorts of laughter. 
I am Brangelina's first child. 
I am the sigh before a sneeze. 
I am the laugh after a fart. 

I am Life!

I am the smiles on a first date. 
I am the prom queen in her dress. 
I am the first kiss in a Cafe. 
I am the slow dance in a wedding. 
I am the hope of winning the lottery. 
I am hope. 

I am Life! 

I am payday. 
I am the doorbell when you ordered Pizza. 
I am the fresh ironed school uniform.
I am the sun setting. 
I am the sun rising.
I am the sun. 

I am the dress that never fit. 
I am the girl that didn't care anymore. 
I am the confidence in her walk. 
I am the shimmy in her shake. 
I am the burgers hanging on her thighs. 
I am the salads on her plate. 
Let's face it, she doesn't do salads. 
And I'm the look on her face that says, 
"I'm okay with that."

I'm the happiness in a pickup line. 
I am the girl that slapped the boy for using it. 
I am the boy that used it again. 
On the same girl. 
Ada boy. 

I am the ambiance in a buffet. 
I am the comfort in a bed. 
I am the hugs between friends. 
I am the inside jokes.
I am the memories. 
The good ones. 
The ones that don't keep you up at night. 

I am the smell of fresh baked French Bread. 
I am the flame in a barbecue
I am the dog crying for his owner. 
I am the owner 5 seconds away from home. 
I am the jump in the dog's welcome. 

I am life. 
And sometimes, I'm not so bad.

Tuesday 5 May 2015

Poem || History Book.

You are a history book
Your past is being studied
By people you don't like 

You are a history book 
Hitler is your villain and you 
Are a confused German

You are a history book
And your edges are worn out and
Your pages are being skimmed through 

Your pages skimmed through 
Like they don't mean anything 
But you're in pain because 

You are a history book 
And you're trying to run away from
Your past; ironically. 

You are a history book
And people are lying about you
Claiming they know your reasons

You are a history book
And your story keeps 
Repeating itself 

As if it wasn't hard enough 
To live through the past 
The first time

You are a history book
And you've forgotten where
You placed the bookmark

And now you're flipping
Through yourself wondering how
You turned into this mess

You are a history book
And nobody
Seems to be on the same page


Friday 1 May 2015

Dear Owls, blanket.

Dear Owls, 

We only show the world the part of ourselves we want them to see. Overtime, you learn that not everything you want to say is important and slowly a classroom of students who can achieve so much, end up a stressed lawyer, an unsuccessful start-up, and a thousand lost ideas that got sent away by uninterested investors or immature minds; minds that do not understand the particulate combination of thoughts that harvest the most amazing of unfinished projects. Sometimes, we need to hide the part of ourselves that the world simply cannot understand.

We are all so afraid of being in the nude, because our colors are so different. We're all afraid of something. I know I am. But if we let this fear control our lives, then that's funnier than being naked. There are things about my life I am yet to understand. With each year, I discover something about myself I did not know. Every year, I think the year that passed was the worst/best year ever. This year, I don't really ask of anything. This year, I want to survive. This year, I want to feel like I truly grew up a little, I want to believe that I could fly if someone pushed me off the nest. I don't even feel like I have a nest. I feel like I've been jumping from too many branches for too many years. 

I need to figure out what I want in life. I know I need to do something to leave my footprint in this world. I need to know that if I died tomorrow, I would have influenced someone's life. Right now, it just feels like all I do is breathe. Even that I don't do too effectively. 

Sometimes, I feel like a bird who could fly everywhere but someone's taken my wings. There's this thing about birds though... they poop on those they don't like. 

Interesting turn of topics. Of course, poop is not the ideal focus for my blog update; not that it's not as crucially important as anything else I'm going to say. 
We tend to hide behind blankets because humans are cold, and blankets keep us from getting cold. Except, that's what they're supposed to do. We use them as shields, barriers, weapons. Our phones are our blankets. Lifting them up every time we walk into an elevator. Checking our Facebook updates a thousand times a day. Loosing my phone was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but for many reasons it was also the best. 4 months is a lot of time. 4 months of not having a phone causes many questions from people. Judging minds. Unsupportive friends. In many ways, I was cold- my blanket was taken away from me and I didn't know where to seek shelter. So I made my own shelter. I read more books, drew more flowers on my notebooks and hummed the theme song to Power Rangers over and over again. I was the always the Pink Power Ranger, if anyone was wondering. 

Our friends are our blankets, but sometimes you need to learn to get our of bed. You need to step into the real world and understand that people will move on and people will walk away when you most need them. It's not a question of if they will or won't- it's a mystery of when. 

Slowly, you learn to let go of your blanket. Lord knows sometimes I go running behind it. Sometimes I pretend like I'm so transparent but in reality, we're all battling our thoughts. We're all trying to convince ourselves that we can fight our monsters. That's something we have in common. 

I may not do much, but I know nobody should be afraid. Nobody should hide behind anything. If you're a bird, go be a bird. If you need to fly, then fly. If you're not ready yet. Then take your time. But be a bird and go poop on people.

Yours with doubts and the happiest confusion,
Me.

Friday 24 April 2015

Ghosts.

"There were ghosts of her in the eyes of everyone who loved her"

The type of girl that doesn't have a 'type', the type that is so unique that boys are left speechless trying to describe her and girls are left dumbfounded trying to trick her- spoiler alert: there is no way to trick her. 

Wednesday 22 April 2015

Dear Owls, saviors.

Sometimes, things change and you stand at a cross road, wondering where you went wrong.
Sometimes, you change and you're left with the doubt; "Has it been a change to the better or worse?"
Other times, you just stand so still that you manage to see your future dance alongside you, swaying to the mistakes you'll make and smile because they are perfect mistakes that will drag you to your success one day. You watch as your words slide off your past's tongue like pasta being eaten in reverse and you cry.
You cry because you wish you never told anyone that you'll be there for them. You wish you never told anyone you'll love them forever because sometimes when no one's looking, you feel like you're a disappointment. You can't be there for the person who needs you the most and there's nothing you can do about it. You can't smile for those who need to see you happy because that's really not how life works.
So, when everyone is asleep and you're left alone with your thoughts, you feel the constant buzzing of things gone wrong. You tell yourself that it's not your fault because you can't save everyone; but shouldn't you be able to save those who matter?
And when all your thoughts are screaming in your mind, your eyes searching for a shelter, your ears pounding from the voices, you stop for a moment and take in the beautiful disaster. You watch as the black and white memories develop colors and you see that life will move on. You see that your past is really just your past. Black and white will only be dull for so long, until someone grabs some crayons and fixes the unfinished masterpiece.
You realize that you can't keep worrying about saving everybody or even those who you promised you'll rescue because if you're out saving the world- who's going to save you?

Life is good, dear owls.
I hope one day mine will make an awesome difference in someone else's.

Yours always,
Me.

Monday 13 April 2015

Poem || Lines.

Along the lines of good and bad,
I choose the tangent crossing.
I choose to be both of two,
Commit the murder, but without watching

Along the lines of good and bad,
I did not like the line.
I wanted all that evil offered,
Whilst being kind.

Along the lines of good and bad,
I was on the edge.
To tip into the boiling sin
But surfing on a sledge

Along the lines of good and bad
There still is not a cure
To want to be so wicked
With a heart so pure

So what does one do now?
What does one say?
When all that the world is reaching for
Is a little too cliché

I want to be a rebel
That draws inside the lines
That makes the picture perfect
But not be so confined

Along the lines of good and bad
I pleaded to be unique
To be the angel that I am
But not seem so weak

Dear Owls, city lights.

Dear Owls, 

Somewhere on this round planet we found our lives on, there are people with souls blown in them. There are doctors, engineers, singers, dancers and writers. Hidden beyond the greed and hunger of rich men, there are those of us who try to get past a bad day by simply connecting again. Connecting to ourselves, to each other and even to the world. 

Somewhere among thousands of lands claimed by men that died over the years, there is a country with bright lights and tourism sites. There is a picture-perfect image sold to people who don't live there and people believe this is where they will/must find happiness. There are pictures of smiling children all over billboards and commercials, screaming out to desperate souls that are needing for love and attention. Desperate souls that need to feel young again; we're all children on the inside, we just got bigger externally as time passed. People come here to feel "alive" again, paying thousands of whatever the currency is to make their hearts pound like fists of angry protesters. They need to feel their hearts again. 

Somewhere in this country, there is a city. A city with broken hearts that did not find what they were looking for, just a bunch of lost souls with no compass because the commercials they had didn't have warnings.
Disclaimer: whatever you see in this well acted skit and on the well dressed, badly paid actors may not truly exist in real life. Your love life will not become better if you eat our tropical lies and swim in our artificial beaches that have been cleaned to ensure you don't get stung by jelly fish- life does that for you. Whatever you see in this propaganda we put together within weeks, will not last a life time. It will not give you "The BEST deal in town!" and it probably won't "Make you WISHING you lived here." 

Because, somewhere in this city there is a girl that actually lives here. She has never seen what her neighbor looks like and has one friend in her apartment sized life. In this city, there are so many bright lights, but none of them light a spark in her, none of them enlighten her life and to her, all the lights seem to flicker out and die eventually. She sees labor change the grass every week because it's plastic, she watches are they rip the old grass out from the soil and replace it with newer one, so new tourists can marvel at just how amazing this synthetic view is. Sometimes, she wishes she was grass, sometimes, she thinks she already is, sometimes, she worries she will be.

Somewhere on this planet, there is a child that grew up too fast to become a women, to please herself and others. There is a passion waiting to burst out of the pages of her diary, there is a song waiting to melt out of her mouth only to mold itself into a wax candle. She will lift a stand of betrayed grass that lost tourists once marveled at and use it as a wick for her exquisitely flawed candle and she will use the raging fire of little girls who got called names by those they trusted the most to light it up. She will light her candle because it makes her feel whole. She will light her perfectly imperfect creation because it brings her graceful thoughts, mediocre hope and glittering eyes at the side of her bed, wishing that this light never goes out.

She will light her candle because maybe city lights were never her thing.

Wednesday 1 April 2015

Dear Owls, something good.

Dear Owls, 

For the longest time, things haven't been going my way and they still aren't, but I'm changing my look on things. If I don't pick my shit up, it's just going to make everything smell really bad. 

Besides, this blog could use a little 'happy'. 

One of my older poems was called "Heart Attack" 
My latest one is called "Heart Beat" 

Something good is going to happen, and if it doesn't, I'll make my own fate. 

You're always, 
 Me.

Ps: If you're reading this, I want to thank you. This blog doesn't really work if nobody's reading it. No matter who you are and what snack you're binging on or what twisted destiny caused you to click on my blog and read it; thank you. 
You're welcome to send me an email if you're feeling generous. Tell me how the weather is in your side of town, or not. There's nothing like hiding behind a computer screen... I should know, right? :)

Poem || Heartbeat

There are three reasons why people jog:
1. They wish to lose weight
2. They wish to have alone time 
3. They need to feel their heart again

For the longest time, I've focused on number one. I never even cared about the other two reasons, 
Until 
One day, I realized I needed a new hiding place.
Far away from the drama that everyone seems to have, and 
Far away from everything I can't run away from
So, I pretend. 
I'm on the treadmill and 
I close my eyes. 
I imagine my problems chasing after me. 
But I don't run away from them because, I'm not that fast
So I learn to run with them 
And befriend my problems like they were my 
Cup of coffee
Did I mention I hate coffee these days? 
But that's beside the point. 

Ask me what happens when you run with your problems?
You start to run faster because
You can now look past your past 
Like what happened doesn't matter and what will be is far more important
Like a pair of wings you never knew 
You could grow 

And so, I run so fast
I'm talking ultrasonic speed that I went back in time 
And I saw myself running 
Again and again and 
Again 

Then I stopped to catch my breath, and I feel it. 
Pounding like marching bands in London Square 
Announcing the Queen's arrival
I feel it. 
Singing like girls in the orphanage that never got a home 
Tap dancing in Hollywood's best theater
Screaming like women in labor 
Howling like the babies coming out of them
Gambling like poker on 
Tuesdays 
When you know you're dead broke 
But you still try and Oh 
I feel it.
Louder than Big Ben, Taller than Burj Khalifah 
Faster than Ultrasonic speed 
And I went back in time to feel it
Again and again and 
And 

An organ that lost its donor so many times
Due to heartbreaks and mishaps
Fights and complications 
People telling it where it can and cannot bleed
Where it can and cannot be 
What it can and cannot see 
I feel it.
Pounding in my chest, as if to say,
Run. 
Faster.
Your coffee is getting cold.

Monday 30 March 2015

This isn't about you.

"I heard you've been thinking about me, again." he said. His eyes scanned mine like lasers. “I heard you don’t breathe sometimes because our memories make you weak. I heard that sometimes at night, you stop dreaming because all you can dream is me coming back one day, but I won’t. I will never come back.”

“I never want you to.” I muster.

“So why do your eyes cry for me? Why does your heart beat faster when the memory of me comes past your recollection? Why do your stories reek of my smell?”

“Everything reeks of your smell; except my stories.”

“Have you read them?”

“No. I wrote them.”

The silence caused a void between us. With each word I was saying to you, I felt a bit of our past peel off me, like remains of a sugar cane that melted in a hot summer; our summer.

“If you somehow come across a poem of mine and think it’s about you, think again. If you’re reading this thinking I wrote this about you, stop. Sometimes, I want to write something and I hesitate because I'm afraid I would hurt your feelings, or the feelings of whomever wants to believe those stories and poems is about them. My life and my feelings are about me. If I want to complain about cruelty and my life going wrong, I will. This is my comfort zone. Go find your own." I spit out.

"I never took away your comfort zone. I'm just looking out for you, I'm making sure you're okay." he yelled, his hands held out defensively. "I'm not some freak who just follows your stories around. I just want to know how you're doing!" 

"Then ask me, not my blog." I rolled my eyes, "I just wanted you to know that what I write has nothing to do with my life- it's my way of letting things out. Each letter is my cigarette, each word my addiction and you seem to be the rehab I never asked for.
I’ve moved on because I know what’s best for me...I’ve changed.” 

“I don’t see a change.”

“That’s because you haven’t changed.”

Thursday 26 March 2015

Dear Owls, looking up.



Dear Owls, 

At the beginning of this year, I made a list of things I wanted to get done. The funny part is, the list became a life goal kind of thing too. Since it was the new year of 2015, I made 15 new goals I wanted to achieve by the end of this year. However, what I didn't expect is that it would turn out so darn good. It had religious, educational, health/personal, monetary/business and overall goals I wanted to get done. With each category I had, I added a couple of things and thus began the triumph of my year. 

Honestly? This year started off terribly. There is so much I wish happened differently, but I wouldn't change anything. Things are finally looking up (thank God) and I'm getting used to the fact that bad things will happen and I just have to deal with it. 

In the past month, I've been at a conference and earned myself a three night stay with my mom at the cutest hotel ever; Hyatt Regency. Most nights were stressful because she was somewhat in charge of a thousand things, and although she wasn't directly held responsible- you know my mom. She'll want to make sure everything is okay even though she doesn't have to. I remember sitting in the hotel room just taking in the quiet time. It was such a peaceful relaxing time and I feel like 3 days were more than enough because I was honestly starting to miss my boys at home. I do have to mention my midnight romance with Creme Brulee! If you don't know what that is, I've added a picture below: 


For those of who you don't know what it is, it's this piece of amazing heaven that I have slowly fell in love with. It's a vanilla creme custard desert with burnt sugar on the surface and- Oh My Lord. It is just the most amazing thing I have ever put in my mouth. So... for that reason, I decided to get it every single night at my stay; that's 3 creme brulee's in a very VERY short amount of time. 

Another awesome experience was meeting an author at the festival of literature and getting the privilege of driving her to our university! I don't drive though, but I was in the car; going and coming. She spoke about her life and her husband was there too. Her name was Adele Parks and mom and I bought two books of hers after she spoke at our university. She was such a lovely positive person. I was worried it would be difficult to strike up a conversation with her, but it totally wasn't! 

Something I find extra exciting is my talk in the university for International Women's Day. I only spoke for a couple of minutes, but during that speech, I managed to cross out a goal on my checklist for the year and for my life. I spoke about Arab Women and the Liberation of the Scarf. Before going on stage, I freaked out so much, but once I got up there... it just became another goal I had to achieve. And I did. I thank God everyday for giving me the privilege to speak up and not lose my ability to face a crowd with all the drama going on.

Apart from tutoring, I've been attending many conferences and talks that go about in our uni. Every time I hear someone speak, all I can think about is, "when will it be my turn to show the world something good?" 

Soon, hopefully. 

Now, I focus on breathing. I focus on trying not to forget the good that has been given to me and the times I feel invincible. I focus on doing good to myself and to others; mostly on making a difference. Finally, I try not to hear his voice in my head. All it does is bring me back to step one. A little voice in my head that tells me, "Stop looking up, it's just the sky", because it's not just a sky. There are mysteries and a universe of possibilities and maybe, just maybe, a chance for me reach higher than my vision. 

Yours with a fresh mind and attempts at actually living, 
Happy Spring Break! 

Monday 9 March 2015

Dear Owls, oh.

Dear Owls, 

You know when you try to make a difference in your life and everything seems to be going amazingly well for like... 2 seconds? Or when you convince yourself that now everything is going to be okay because nothing can bring you down if you set your mind to that belief? 
It just sucks to have to continuously build yourself up after someone slams your right back to where you started from. All I seem to be doing lately is secretly and publicly complain about how life isn't going as planned or how everything seems to haunt me in sudden memories at the least expected times. Yet, although I complain this much, when I get the question, "Are you happy?" I swallow everything I said and nod. I refuse to be categorized as unhappy again. It's been three months since everything came tumbling down and for the past three months, all I've tried to do is move on and get over the negativity- but it seems to follow me like a shadow I can't stitch onto someone else. 
So, what does someone do when the worst is tipping the scale and the best seems to be no where in sight? I once said that problems and bumps in the road make life interesting and that humans would get bored without them, but I think I may have outdone it this time. 
Oh what an interesting life I've bought myself this year. Oh how I would kill for a little boredom.

Yours always, 
Me. 

Saturday 7 March 2015

Poem || Protection.

And when you lied the first time,
you said you were doing it to protect me.
And I believed you
because I thought I needed protection.

And then you bought me a star,
telling me it reminded you of me
And I believed you
because I thought I needed praising

And then you bought me the sky and
told me it was my bulletin board
And promised I could pin down the stars you bought me
because they'd be more of them

And with each star I pinned down,
I felt their light dimmed down
As though I was killing them
Neigh, stabbing them.

And then when I told you I couldn't kill
anymore stars.
You laughed and said I was too soft
and soft women were stupid and gullible

One day, you came in holding a bag
Of stardust, probably from a star that died
And you told me to use it as glitter
On the bulletin board
But I refused

Boy, I never saw you so mad.
You grabbed my hand and
forced me into the sky
And threw my stars away
Causing each one to shine so bright again

And I smiled because now they were free
Then frowned, because I wasn't.

I took my bag of pins and popped the bubble
you trapped me in.
And when you asked me why I was leaving
I looked you straight in the eyes and
I lied to you
But it's okay because
I was only lying to protect you.


Dear Owls, human nature.

Dear Owls, 

We are all faced by a choice in our life. Not the salt or no salt choice, the actual important choice. Choices like, will I chose to betray his trust or will I do the right thing despite of all the sacrifices made? Will I leave him hanging to save myself, or will I reach a hand out even though it could get it chopped off? Will I forget the past or will I let it haunt me? 
Will I wake up tomorrow, or will I do the cowardly thing and take my own life? 

Everyone on this planet is given a choice; it's the one thing that differentiates us from animals and plants. They do not chose their path, but we do. It's human nature to doubt and question. But what if you're stuck at a fork in the road? One day, you open you eyes and notice, shit- I actually have to decide what to do now. I'm not a child anymore and I need to take action before action is taken on me. It's also human nature to learn, and therefore, in the process of taking decisions and choosing the right path, we learn to be patient. We, as humans, learn to understand the problem before we make it worse. Well, some of us at least. The other some are still out there pondering at 2AM what their life is about. They ponder if they'll ever amount to anything or if they'll ever do something worth being proud of. As for decisions, I have none lately. The only thing I'm doing is learning to be patient. 

Salt or no salt. 
I wish it were that simple; sometimes, I think maybe it is. 

Thursday 5 March 2015

Dear Owls, remember?

Dear Owls, 

Do you remember the last time you told someone you loved them, the last time you smiled, the last time you ran to a total stranger because they dropped something, or even the last time you lost something of you own? 
Some times, we are so caught of with the to-do lists and agendas we set for our days, so busy that we forget to take note of a stranger's smile or the time you first noticed someone you never knew was there; like a mailman that passes by each morning, or the security guard that greets you in your morning stroll to your university. So many things, unimportant yet meaningful things, tiptoe past us and we forget to give them their recognition. It's obvious that these things happen monotonously but it doesn't mean that it doesn't give your day a certain melody. What if the days you said were not so good days were because you didn't get your morning smile from the neighbor, or because the mailman skipped your house?
It's hard to know what we want in life, some people don't even know yet, so when you get these simple privileges to meet and greet new and old people, it's always good to mentally take note of them and not completely go past them with your phone calls or replying to emails. Give each moment in your life a chance, no matter how small it may seem, when you do this you're simply telling life that you don't mind it's interruptions because it's what makes your life beautiful. 
The next time you hand someone something they've dropped, let that moment sink in, smile because the 100 bucks they dropped could have been the only thing keeping them going. Then, when you're done priding yourself, remember the one thing keeping you going, if it's a person, go tell them you love them. 

Thursday 26 February 2015

Poem || Do you still love me?


I daydream possibilities of a better life
And I see myself running after my children,
In the garden I planted with you; my husband.
And you look at me and ask,
"Do you still love me?"

It's silly of you to ask, you're my only love.
I think to myself as I call my brother;
Who I haven't contacted in weeks, busy with life
He picks up the phone and tests me mockingly
"Do you still love me?"

It's night time and our baby cries
The bills are piling by our window
Our eldest is off to college
My little girl breaks our vase, crying
"Do you still love me?"

My mother passed away last spring
You ask me to move on and get a job
I tell you I can't because I miss her
You don't care, and I plead God at night
"Do you still love me?"

Our son needs braces, our baby is growing
You suck on your thumb after a paper cut,
"Get me some damn bandages, woman."
And I hear the lady, in the soap opera on TV, ask the man
"Do you still love me?"

Our baby needs surgery and we're broke
You're smoking on the garden I planted with... you
Ashes fall on the dying grass that no longer smell fresh
And I could almost hear nature ask us
"Do you still love me?"

The baby died. All our kids are married.
You sit by the garden as I work 3 jobs.
My face isn't soft and my body's withering
We hardly speak and I wish I could muster up the courage to ask

"Do you still love me?
Baby Yoshi Blinking