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In the Dark

 

 

Moments; I watch them happen yet I am not inside them. I am really not inside anything but a heartless machine. I am calculated and structured, I am not forgetful nor am I as clumsy. I’m more on the surface and its killing me. I hate life on the surface it’s not right.
I force words out onto this page just to remind myself that a soul once lived here, it found solace within letters and lines. A soul cried here and looked for peace yet left disappointed most of the time. A soul that hid here now pushes under my skin, it wants life and it wants meaning. Bursting through the seams it seems yet I can barely see it.
Not in their faces do I see purpose nor in their words, they all love the surface or so it appears. They look back at me and they smile as though I have risen from depth to greet them and tell them there is more to life, good still exists. But I find that they never find me beyond that message, they don’t bother look further because what they need is a mere surface reflecting what they need or love to see.
I step away from my selfless self and I try to see what they see. If I were them I wouldn’t want to get sucked into that arrogant vacuum too. Light only makes sense to those in the dark, but light doesn’t understand it’s light because all it sees is dark. A complication? possibly, but a fact? maybe not. Light has an endless path until it’s absorbed and then transformed.
So I wait and wonder…

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Transformation Trance

And when the music plays i concave into my cold and distant self. I touch every fear and i pat every tear dry. I no longer stand still, I rythmically disappear. The world doesn’t see me, it only looks for beauty and played out moves. People study every gesture, every dance step, every artistic technique. But with me, there is no art. There is no beauty in shedding skin.
Horror exists in me like a new born child so powerful yet absolutely dependent. No art comes close to twisting the elements as i do. My mind burns, it bursts into flame with fear and overexposure. No beauty is warm enough to compare. No strength is cold enough to extinguish.
No word is deep enough to pull me up, and no sound is loud enough to wake me from this transformation trance.

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To run from peace

I woke up one night and i decided to leave. I did not speak, i did not listen, i forced the bravery out of me and i walked out. I gave up on the causes that chained me and i let go of faith. I left peace in bed and i took off with war. I betrayed ideals and i broke out.
The road ahead of me was so long, more than i had ever imagined it to be; almost endless. I started my car and i opened my eyes. Music played louder than my thoughts, and it woke up peace. Then as i went forward i could see peace through my rear view mirror banging at the that door i locked. It didnt break my heart, that is where it belonged. Peace lied to me, it slept with me and it cradled me when war was always at my door. Peace made everything quiet, it even showed me beauty. Peace began taking me one breath at a time and i let it. War always watched and it was so shameless.
Peace was a hypocrite and a fraud. It had so much to lose, it was a coward and it convinced me never to leave its side.
Today i leave peace, i break peace and i turn my back to it. I grab war by the neck and ask it to lead me to where all the truth lay. I scream at war and demand it tells me why it wanted me. Why has it always sat at my door, why it watched, why it left traces of doubt over my porch…i had so many questions.
As i drove, war would run along wanting to show me its world. And so i drove over bodies and ideas, i saw limits and they meant nothing. War was illeterate and blind. War only acted it never looked back. I drove and the road wouldnt end. People cursed war and i was surprised. I used to think big of it, but it turned out to be a humiliating friend. I had to watch my back and twitch with fear as war introduced me to its friends. Everything was blurry and truth lay nowhere but in red puddles. That was the only color i saw and it was repulsive.
War finally asked me to get out of my car to watch it dance. I had never seen war in daylight, and so as day broke, i watched disaster and destruction prevail. Every time war swayed i saw its real colors. Under the light war was ugly, it was deformed and stained with defeat, it had no arms or legs it creeped and lurked; there was nothing alluring about it and its stench was nauseating. It asked me to join but i couldnt, because suddenly i had so much to lose. Suddenly i missed peace and its beauty. I missed peace and how it looked at me, how it sang me to sleep and faded into hope every morning.
Except war wouldnt let me go, it pulled me in and i fell as all its friends joined. I had willingly left peace for this. For that horror and pain. For the puddles of truth stained in red. I left peace and i believed war would solve all my problems; except it didnt.
I wept as the very truth i was looking for slowly seeped out of me and to my surprise it was colored red. I knew what i had lost and i longed for the first time that peace would find me.

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Where my world ends.

Under so many skies and genuine timelessness, existed a place on this earth. Fairytales and unicorns had never been there, neither had good music or pretty faces. It was burnt to the ground and nothing lived there. It dressed its death with white and colored its ugliness pink. The oil amongst that land was named water and the idiots who had given up their minds to that nothingness were called people.
That tiny spot painted its lands green when ash was the center of it all. Against that green, other colors looked better and so that place gained beauty and fame. That place choked on the inside but pretended that skies were naturally blue. That place got thicker and denser, yet the filth always seemed to seep through the fake moulds created.
The pretty faces were not real, the men were void of the truth and of honor, and the minds of both genders melted into extremes of dullness or pride. All the real information was drowned and out came the stupid quotes and the tarnished banners of love and respect for that place.
Then came the people who served a great power named God and they told the dim minded what to think about everything. They said different things to different people, when the main message was all the same. They promised those boys and girls the greatest worldly pleasures and they swore on their lives. Somehow it all made sense, only because they never really understood and they presumed that the others did.
Their pride then played itself out when they went on fighting who understood best. Many believed in what they fought for, they hoped that God knows their intentions and they died for him, leaving behind the greatest stories ever told. Except, God was claimed to have been in every story, and he supported each group for their worldly gains. Each group said that God was theirs’ and on their side.
There, came a voice asking. Simply and not rhetorically. Is God on everyone’s side? How is that possible? Then who are the enemies? Does God enjoy experiments ? Does God laugh at one group and with another? Wait, wait..WAIT. Who is lying here?
Everyone suddenly broke into silence, and instead of finding answers to all those questions, they laughed and stabbed the voice quiet. And then said, God is with us.
After fighting for a very long time, those dim minded people decided that they needed to talk and work things out. The biggest and strongest, the richest and most victorious discussed and cut up the lands on earth. They decided who takes what, but did not give their word, they kept all options open and invented a game called diplomacy.
And time passed then ended and passed again then ended, consistently time lapsed. The idiots who had become people, dressed better and talked better, they learned in schools and expensive universities. Others had poor lives and barely lived to be middle aged people. Yet they all believed in God, each in their own way. And until today, The truth rarely gets mentioned and that old voice barely gets heard.
None of those people considered that that voice, was God himself. He had rested his silence but they refused to listen, they killed that voice and played on their own. They spoke on behalf of God and it was never going to end. Not now not ever, because eventually and essentially, that land had always been empty and shredded apart. The skies were only bright when creatures were true to their existence and mortality. Pride ate the heads of the idiots and they really thought they controlled everything. They thought they knew.

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Lebanese Pride

National pride. Really?!

For what? what has this blurry joke of a country ever done for you? This utterly embarrassing Lebanese story is tragically funny. The same problems over and over again, the same words vomited from the mouths of airhead politicians, somehow under some unrelenting logic always seem to get to people and fill their hollow heads with -for lack of better word- bullshit.

So this bullshit blocks blood vessels in the brains of very proud nationals who have actually believed and enjoyed their herd leaders’ vomit until they are smothered with it; one is rendered driven by bullshit, fighting for bullshit and dying for what more than bullshit. I hope i have not reached too much of an offensive description of my fellow patriots.

I do not respect anyone, i barely respect myself for being part of such disgusting excuse of a society. So i do not give excuses anymore, i am not surprised nor am i annoyed anymore. People are essentially insecure, everything is divine for them, they talk about collectivity and honor just because individually they have no worth and no significance. They grab their guns and shoot at each other when they should probably shoot themselves. And hopefully rid this world of one less waste of space.

And then again, by writing something of this such i might be saying “very bad things” about my country. But, i am not, i am saying” very bad things” about the people of this country. I am actually so amused because it is quite interesting for observational study. This existence of Prada Tribes, and self-indulgent savages who drive fancy cars and speak big words and rule entire mindless societies is worthy of noting.

Repeating words and chanting the names of those tribe leaders, dancing around tires of fire is fascinating, rather inspiring for i am discovering in-depth my contempt for this society. This immense dose of mind control and social disintegration is not going to stop, it has become so deep inside people who have nothing to lose, who have too much pride to apologize and come out clean, it has infested itself within their words and brain functions. They breathe void ideologies and have found that their guns speak for them, their manhood is defined by how much hate they can spur and how high they can squeal.

And speaking of manhood and male dominance in this refreshing society of ours, i must very sarcastically exclaim; where are all the feminists in situations like this? Why are “the men” alone burning tires and shooting guns, are women not to be included in this too?

I conclude with saying, dear patriots do not cry for our malfunctioning country, do not criticize and get disappointed. It has forever been this way, we are not respected citizens of a valued country, we are not the country of beauty and peace. We are inhabitants of a map drawn in the sand several years ago under a french mandate. So you see dear patriots, you are fighting for void causes and internationally entertained ideas. You kill so easily when you probably do not know why, and you live so easily when you do not even know why. Having no national purpose, or personal justifications lead you to become mindless, emotional, impulsive and spineless members of a God-full society which renders everything you do divine and right under the rule of God. (when your leader here can be your God too, just for mathematical justification substitution is allowed).

PS: This does not come close to offending anyone if you do not imagine the effect of raising my middle finger along with writing this piece simultaneously.

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Existential pointlessness.

I don’t know why i run here every time; every single time i find myself writing as though my mind cries here and lays all its worries and the weight of the world; right here. I find myself creating and expressing what i cannot spell out as eloquently to anyone, at least not without breaking apart.

So i need and long and want so much, just as so many others do. But it is rare that i admit such weaknesses. It is rare that i stand and give myself out so bare and undisguised. It takes faith, it takes belief and belonging to give yourself out in such manner to anyone. how do you trust? how do you know? how do you believe what anyone says to you? for what is deceit in the end of the day but a let down from someone you trusted. So simple yet so damaging.

Then come love, the greatest confusion of all. the strongest and most liberating yet suffocating situation one can ever fall into. The impossible becomes a plan, and a very plausible one which will get you even more tangled in the thoughts, limitations and benefits of such commitment. It builds you bigger and stronger. But it keeps grabbing you by the neck, any wrong move you make or even more simply the moment it decides to leave, it breaks your neck, along with everything else that was. You then are left. Simple.

What is it? what is it that drives us to such destructive situations? We dive so willfully and joyfully as though experience has not slapped us right in the face over and over. Is it that pathetic need for belonging that makes us so weak as to want to relate to anything and everything. A believer relates to God, for he has found the most glorious bond. But isn’t that nothing but a psychological man-made relationship? A lover relates to his beloved, for he has figured out eternal passion; at least until one of them decides to leave. So what is divine in such finished a world? What is pure and true? What is genuine but a sad truth? What truth is there when we are children of conflict and death? Who is right and who is wrong?

What is forever, but a longing for the impossible? When do we give up and realize the joke of it all? When do we own up to our fear of never knowing and admit that there is no point but what we decide to make of it.

So we go to the secret places inside our minds and souls, we hide all our doubts and pains inside, lock up and get out to the world. Nothing but because people do not like misery, they love happiness and simplicity, they love aloofness and everything physical. They run away from the real abstract and end up living in one they have made up and imagined all alone. They close the doors behind them and forget where they hid their secret place. They shy away from hard truths and embrace simple instinctual habits. They have no need for existential bullshit. For life is no more but being born suddenly opening your eyes to a world you have not chosen to enter, you then are blessed with a brain that gets developed and screwed with by people and emotions. You then exit the way you entered unasked and unwelcome.

Life is a liability, death is not a choice either. So exit as you came in, bare and frail. Fragile to the core but with a brain made just to piss you off, some sort of teaser. It gets you places but then there is no way back , you can never not know something you know. It is there forever more.

So at the end of the day you end up writing about some existential pointlessness on a very commercial blog, which will probably never get you anywhere in life.

I end this with saying, the greatest joys come from simple minds and imagination.

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On the shore of sanity

Maybe I should run away and never be found. Maybe I should leave everything I know right here and now. Liberate my thoughts and desires; unleash my insecurities and my perfections. I’m looking at my world differently and what made sense before is gibberish today. I can go the distances of possibilities; I can stretch my mind to the farthest horizons. Of course I can, here on this paper I can.

I am on a quest, I have not figured out my purpose yet but I know I’m on the right track. This paper here keeps me real, grounded and sane. It receives my thoughts and aspirations with no judgment.

Unlike people this paper is my haven, my shore; it absorbs my speed and intensity. So this is where I begin running. I start shedding my masks; one by one I hear them crash behind me. I feel my feet’s friction with the sand, and I can almost taste the salty moisture of the sea ahead. On this shore of my sanity I release my inhibitions. I look up to my cloudy sky and find long lost memories dripping on my skin. The speed is exhilarating and the memories are countless so I find myself indulging in that storm. Nevertheless, the farther I stretch my mind and the larger that shore extends the heavier my memories get. My heart suddenly feels weighed down, so I stop and I stand still to take my breath. A rush of wind infiltrates my senses and I am revived. I look back at my path and it’s a beautiful wreck. The sand I stepped on is displaced; it has taken the form of my movement. The air I breathed is scented, and the memories that had dripped on my skin have touched me and are evaporating back into my sky. I know they will visit again. 

I smile and with that one swift motion I am no longer on my shore. I am in a dark room with one lit lamp and the smell of forgotten cold coffee strikes me. I pick my emotions up dust off my pen and begin writing myself down. I’m an entity of helpless and sheer humanity. I am seeking peace with faith and genuine selflessness. I am young but my mind is ancient with all the philosophy it tackles and yearns for. My mind is insanity and life, with sprinkles of humor; while thoughts of self loathing and deep self adoration are in constant conflict. I am enthralled by the experiences of those around me and I am like a living sensor for life’s changes. I’m a realist with hopefulness. I am extremes and contradiction at best, but I never forget shades and degrees. I am in a state of constant observation and self-definition.