Guess I needed a second chance.

6 Feb

It’s been so long since I’ve last written anything. I don’t really know why I was away from writing for this long, life was being a distraction; I guess. A lot has happened I was away from writing; a lot that I can write a book about.

For a pretty long portion of my life. I was curious. I was questioning. I was ungratified. I didn’t know what’s right or wrong. All I knew is what my human instinct whispers in my ear every step I take. Heart beats fast, with every tap my shoes make as I walk down the streets of Alexandria, thinking, analyzing, puzzled, and lost in my deepest thought. It was hard, felt like a block over my shoulders, more of me locked in a prison with no bars or chains that I can see. No one stopping me from chasing my well deserved freedom, or breathing that fresh air that my lungs desires to take it all in. I swore that I’d one day talk about the magic of it, and how it invades my body as a growing tumor, leaving it willingly enter the body of a healthy victim; I feel the thrill and the rush of hormones as I dream about that day. So here I am, after tasting a fine portion of what life can give, telling you -stranger- a few of my life stories that left a great impact on me, and made me who I am today.

Life is good.. Happiness is out there for whom seeks it.. Home is a favorite place.. People are pleasant.. A whole lot of memories, lies; pretty ones though; well adjusted to have everyone in them, especially the hopeful ones like my very self, and to be as comfort or a hope for the hopeless in the worst of trying times. I truly and strongly believe that they are very simple as writing them down on sticky notes and having them hung on the wall in my room as reminders, because seeing them makes me smile. Words are the most complex illusion to the mankind. Why? As words can be played with, mixed, you can do a lot with words if you give yourself the chance too, by the simplest of words you can help, encourage, inspire, motivate, make someone’s day, all you’ve got to do is believe. The biggest, trust-worthy proof are the holly books, the collection of its finest words made into sentences buried inside the heart of millions and millions of believers, holding onto them to face, reply, answer any of life’s problems. The constitution; the body of principles on how a state should be governed. Well-manufactured words. And for that, my lust, passion for words began.

At a very young age. I was a victim of bullying, I got bullied by everyone in my class. The words they would use would just cut through me. As simple as a sharp knife cuts through a cake. Yes, as simple as that. And I was just a kid, didn’t know how or what to reply back thus, I ran away from them, found a quiet corner and pour my eyes out. Their words. Finger pointing. Laughter, goes on and on inside my head. I cry harder. No one was there. No one. I go back home, face my mom with a smile and tell her “school was fine”. I don’t know why I didn’t want to tell her, perhaps its due to the fact that I was scared, lonely, but That didn’t keep my mom from knowing, I guess that was when her mom’s instinct kicked in, and she knew all about, I couldn’t help but cry inside her arms. She comforted me with this sentence that to this day it’s buried inside my heart. “Words, can either build you or break you, use them wisely.”

Days, weeks went by, and I still got bullied. So, I would seek safety in a library. I understood quite well why. There were lots to read, lots to discover and I wasn’t quite sure what to begin with, and most of all it was peaceful, no one was there to bother me. Novels piled upon other novels, stories cornered with other stories, and a lost girl wondering what to read out of them all. It wasn’t hard introducing myself to the whole delusion, maybe a little at the beginning but i got the hold of it, only took me a couple of books and I was already at its darkest depth. The feeling of satisfaction and the hunger for thrill and adventure that i found inside these books would just fill my soul. Just then books became my best friends. Words became my addiction. I used them as a shield, as a sword, as a mirror. I wanted to sound eloquent, smart, and sophisticated. I was 10, and I had the tongue of a joker, but the heart of a child. (Which is who am today expect i am 17)

As I grew older satisfaction seemed so far away, so much to do as I grew up, so much responsibility, so much more managed to suck me in. I got busy with school, exams, IG’s, getting requirements done for colleges, however books and words were always there for me, helped, motivated, kept me going, as each book I read left an impact, made me believe; by its quotes or it’s story. So I wrote a lot, read a lot, becoming aware that I am escaping reality, locking away my freedom.

At the very end I became like most of them. I became good at deceiving people. Made them believe that reading made me like that, used it as an excuse. They felt my warmth, good heart that I am, even when I am not around. They felt my words. Just by them saying “it isn’t the same without you.” Keeps me lighted and smiling from the inside. To be honest that is exactly how the authors, poets, novelists made me feel. Warm. Satisfied. They weren’t there, but their words were.

My mind was heavy, full of thoughts, ideas, but my fingers were soft, so I held my pen, grabbed my notebook, closed my bedroom door, and I started. Closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and I broke free, my pen flew easily on the paper, with a steady pase, my thoughts were being transformed into words on a piece of paper, emptying my mind, giving it room to take all over me again, with thoughts. I escaped reality, missing out all life’s chances. I was scared. Just like I was when I was 10. Scared of life bullying me.

I woke up. Empty minded, for the first time. No thoughts, ideas or anything. I worried. It was like waking up in a new place. Never experienced such thing. I looked around, wondering what happened, opened my window, a nice summer breeze brushed against my face. It was like life giving me a new chance; a second chance, to go out, to discover, and experience life; enjoy its wildest side.

I went out, walked through out the streets. I started breathing in cigarette smoke, car fume, which by now my lungs got used to it. Started meeting new people, made new good friends, caught up with old friends that I haven’t seen in a long time. Also, I met people who wanted no good to me, even though I did them no harm, everyday they would smile in my face, hypocrites. And I liked it.

A lot of things started, yet a lot had stopped. I stopped hiding, runny away, feeling scared. I discovered there is so much out there, so much. It wasn’t by any chance close to my peaceful world, no humanity, no care, greed, not as much peace, not enough safety, but it felt real. Life isn’t supposed to be full of only the good things, it has a bad side too. That was what I learned out of life so far. I liked it anyway, it captured memories, laughter, sadness; ones that made a difference though, that my heart nor mind will ever forget… These my friends is what I have pinned to the wall of my room. A note. A photo. A date..

Guess all I really needed was a second chance…

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One Response to “Guess I needed a second chance.”

  1. ayadessouky February 6, 2013 at 8:26 pm #

    Very well written mashaAllah 🙂

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