The places you have come to fear the most.

Red or pink? I can't decide.

This page is so blank. The way you are sometimes. Like you're staring into space without really focusing on anything and all of a sudden someone asks you: Hey! What're you thinking?!
But that's exactly the point. You're not thinking anything. You're just lost in an unthinking stupor clouded by things that hardly make sense and things that haven't yet registered and that's that.

"I stare at the printed page and repeat the lines in my head over and over again. I don't understand what they mean but I like the way they're said. I write em down on my hand- paper is far away and I'm lazy. My phone buzzes and someones talking about cakes. It buzzes again and someone's saying remember that time? I want to answer, and it buzzes again, and I tap the back button; a friend of a friend says hi. And it buzzes once more, something about plans for tomorrow. And I repeat the lines again. I don't get it. The phone buzzes. I ignore it. I think I'm half dazed. I wonder if I got enough sleep last night. It was the ball. Yes, each time it hit the ground, it took with it a little bit of my sleep. And I repeated the lines again because they still make no sense."
           
           "Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun; it cannot be contained."


I'll go with pink.

Texting you back.

I am laughing. I know you so well, it's funny. And I don't hate you. I just don't care about you.

Spirit in the night.

I did not stop talking, aware of the fact that he was trying to stare a hole in my face. He wasn't beautiful. Not even close. Very expectantly average. The details of his face sunk in: His features, posture, height, and his ogling eyes that never left me, showed signs of insomnia.

".. and maybe I thought I didn't know but I did! I was so stupid, you know? But I'm over it so it doesn't seem to bother me anymore. And, don't stare."

And now I met his gaze. He didn't look away and I held onto it- I've missed you so much look- and my intention bounced off of my eyes and hit his face. Obviously, I was uncomfortable. And obviously he was awkwardly inconsiderate. And just when I thought he would never, he looked away to his right, smiling to himself as if in agreement. And then he spoke, now looking down at his shoes in blunt denial.

"I'm sorry. It's just fascinating."

"What is? "

His eyes greeted mine again and I read his mind.
"Um, it's fascinating; your inability to let other people talk. Could you turn your energy down a notch or five so the rest of the world can try to keep up with you?"

"Yeah yeah. Ever occurred to you that maybe you're just slow?"

We both laughed out loud, remembering this very same conversation the first time we met, except that now it meant something different. He moved toward me and grabbed me in a hug. At one point I used to think that nothing in the world could, but right there he made up for all those past months.

Just for a moment.

Some days you feel sad without knowing why. Like you lost something very precious, but forgot what it was, or like you miss someone you never met.

Between order and randomness.

So I finished reading Eleven Minutes. I fell in love with a lot of lines from this one. I want another nice book. A nice dragging one that I can spend weeks reading and fall asleep on every night. That's one reason I don't like reading borrowed books cause you actually have to take care of them. Not that I don't take care of my own but like I can't underline my favorite quotes or sleep on 'em and stuff, you know? And when I fall in love with the book and a gazillion quotes from it, and then have to return it to its owner, it just makes me really horribly sad.

Oh and once I have time, Imma explore the city. Go to all the places I haven't been. Also, make a conscious effort to learn my way around. I seriously suck at directions. (and I have been living here for a pretty pretty long time now!)

Did I tell you that I'm so used to lemon that I can't have food without it? I can't help it. Without lemon food is tasteless! And my throat is fine, too. Really. Win win. :)

Lalalalalalalalalalalala.

I promise I'll study after this one blog post. I want to tell you a story. But I don't know any story. None that are worth telling at least. I had a bad an annoying day. It started off with people waking me up for very extremely unnecessary reasons. And I've had to listen to my mom's non-stop complaining that I don't spend enough time with her. Um, I dunno maybe I live with you mom? God. But I guess I've had way more annoying days/moments than today. Can I tell you? It'll make me feel better.

1. Turning the radio station to the end of a song.
2. A cancelled plan I had been waiting for.
3. Not getting enough sleep cause a random prank caller woke me up and then I couldn't go back to sleep.
4. That "I'm fine" text and the other person actually believed me.
5. Running like a ninja to pick up that phone call and having missed it anyway.
6. Going about the place thinking I'm looking all pretty and then finding a mirror and realizing I'm not.
7. Randomly bumping into a person, remembering them but not knowing their name.
8. Not getting a text back.
9. The Internet dying at the wrongest time. 
10. Burning my taste buds.
11. Brain freeze after two Popsicles.
12. When the pizza guy showed up an hour late and how anger took over the hunger.

Before this post gets lamer, Imma go study. :)

Shit.

Know why I cried today?
Because I realized half the people in my phones contact list didn't live in the same country as me anymore. And still, I couldn't get myself to delete their numbers. And there I was talking about denial issues, pfft.

Them.

            "He's seeing my soul, my fears, my fragility, my inability to deal with a world which I pretend to master, but about which I know nothing."

He walks around, his head held somewhere way up high in a world that only makes sense to him. Squared shoulders, and he walks on it as if he owns the ground. His curious eyes, never off guard. You think you're scared of him. I think I'm scared of him, too. And that's all right. Now he has a hiding place; you and I gave him a hiding place. So he sits there. Alone. Insecure. Scared. Very scared.

__

Shoulders just a little slump and horribly bony. Look at her face. I know I said something. So I cuss my inability to shutup when I should. I ask what's wrong. She blushes and turns away. "Fine, be like that." But I really should've just hugged her.

__

I'm bored. I grab Eleven Minutes and read the first page for the third time. I love how it begins. Then I shut the book and slip it under the pillow because I have a sudden urge to listen to Jenny. Adam sings me this one. It's catchy so I sing along.

__

Look at him. You can, I try not to. Tell him he needs a haircut. Long hair on him makes me wonder if he'll get bald real soon, like his father. I feel sorry for him; He's such a loner so he plays his music that nobody appreciates.

Sealed.

                    "One moment you have nothing, the next, you have more than you can cope with."


I was trying really hard to concentrate, promise. But then I genuinely got distracted and noticed something written in the top corner of the page. It said, "Listen. But he won't let me get a tattoo."
It sounds so funny now. And I remember how it used to be so easy before. Just get up in the morning and go to school. Get late for class cause you're too busy fixing your hair in the bathroom. Not know what the literature lady's on about till you get picked on and know the answer anyway or sometimes get chucked outta the room, accused for not knowing angrazie. And going to school parties and spending the whole day deciding what to wear. Begging mum and dad to let you out for just a little too late. Going an hour late for the psych mid-term and acing it anyway. And getting too emotional debating over making abortion illegal  in GP class and then cracking up when the teacher cuts in to calm you down. And running away to McDonald's from school after classes. And writing fake sick notes and then getting caught.

I can go on forever but I'm holding Eleven Minutes in my hand and it says here:

              "Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever, finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them."


So this is my last post on memories, not because I'm letting go, but because I'm okay with knowing that things don't last forever and that's all right.


And yes Shahrose, this one's for you. :)

Dear me.

If I could write a letter to me and send it back in time to myself at 17, first I'd prove it's me by saying look in your closet there's a champagne bottle sticker no one else would know you hid. And then I'd say I know it’s tough when people hurt you. All I can say is pain like that is fast and it's rare. But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night. 

When mum and dad fight, stay in your room and plug in the earphones, in an hour they’ll be fine. When it gets worse, don’t cry. And still you feel like there's a knife sticking out of your back and you're wondering if you'll survive. You'll make it through this and you'll see that you're still around to write this letter to me.

Always stop after one glass of coke. And on that afternoon in 12^th grade, don’t have two Popsicles at one time. On second thought forget it- that was kinda cool. And don’t spend all your money on a prom dress. Tempted to wear those six inch heels? Don’t.
Each and every time she gives you her long lectures just assume you're wrong and mum’s right. And you should really thank her. She spent so much extra time. But I know at 17 it's hard to see past that one night.

Tonight's the concert but you're staying home instead because if you fail Math mom and dad will kill you. Trust me you'll squeak by and get a C and you're still around to write this letter to me

You've got so much up ahead. You'll make new friends. You should see Mariam and Shahrose. And I'd end up saying have no fear. These are nowhere near the best years of your life.
I guess I'll see you in the mirror. When you're all grown up.

I wish you'd study. I wish you'd take French classes. I wish you'd listen to Brad Paisley more. I wish you wouldn't worry, let it be. I'd say have a little faith and you'll see.

p.s - Go hug Nahal and Mujtaba every chance you can.

From,
You.

Moment of truth.

"I am convinced that no one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone.

           That is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world and not owning it."

It sucks to cling to things, so this summer I fell out of love with so many people and so many things. So many impermanent things.