Hurting for what's it Worth

Seeing them happy, dancing in the air, taking life on cheerfully hurts me. Not because I can't be happier for them, but because I can't feel sorrier for myself. What am I doing? My emotional highs, my emotional lows, my seriousness, my challenges, my goals? Do they feel these too? And at such quickly changing pace as I do? How do they keep life so simple and why do I make mine so complicated? It isn't really worth it, is it? Then what is?

My Damage being your Baggage

I cannot any more laugh it off or leave it to when things unfold or struggle to come up for air which won't always be within my reach,or smile for what I am blessed with. I am ungrateful for life's bruises and the tiny bursts of happiness that come with the package. They don't go through my thin, absorbing skin because my body rejects any sort of wisdom. It rejects thoughts... Because thoughts will cause me to conclude eventually that my damage cannot be your baggage. I will have to give you up. Or I will have to give myself up. I will lose my conscience, my thoughts, my wisdom and my blessings either way. Or have I already?

The Length of Stay

Lets analyse. Look between the hour glass. Lets question. Not because I am strong enough to question the toughest no-entry zones of my life's choices. But because I am being forced to make rash decisions for a while. My unconscious mind has been relentlessly knocking me over to gather the courage to question and accept the responses as they are. And I have neither. No courage and no responses. What I have is a heart, with a history of broken and dragged around, that initially was so broken, the truth didn't hurt.

From nowhere came a phoenix who healed it with its tears and made it so safe and comfortable, that coming out of that comfort zone to question the length of stay of this phoenix becomes dreadful. So dreadful that the  next thirty years of my life become dependent on this very choice. What happens if the phoenix leaves? What if I have to make the choice to go back to a broken heart? This phoenix who heals, is it any good if it doesn't stay? Did fate command it to be here upon me?

Won't the phoenix only leave if fate commands? Should I be scared every night for the day that happens? What if it decides against fate and flies away soaring in the empty skies, where its actual home lies. When I can't control what will happen tomorrow (or today) how can I be at peace? Or in the least, hopeful that what ever happens will be in my best interest? Do I want what is best for me? Or do I just want to be dull and lifeless... miserable but not without the taste of those tears?

Do I get to choose my choices? How long will I hold onto my own instincts... into blind faith? Isn't all faith blind once you believe? Do I believe I will last all this? Will I get what I desire or will I get what I deserve?How does one make that leap of faith and believe they got what they deserved in the end? What if I'm throwing away what I desire and what I deserve and don't even know they are contained in the phoenix? It really is dreadful as questioning is not difficult or tough or painful or hurting or numbing. Its the layers of answer that risk the death of my choices, the death of my foundation, the death of my only desire... the death of all things, my heart thrown in the equation.

My Ten Year Old Dream

This time ten years ago, I thought I'd have my whole life together. I could imagine myself on top of my career ladder, married, kids, a crazy family always on a roll enjoying our summers in Morocco or Turkey. Holding up juice with one hand and a book in another lying on the beach breathing in the salty but fresh beach air. Carelessly lying on white linen sheets cuddling with my family and my only worry being what are we having for dinner. 

Coming back. I Still don't have that life. The mess is bigger and the burden of getting it right is near impossible to achieve by now. So I look around and see similar people. How long before we have it all together then? The truth of life is you never have it all together at 24 or any other age. 

The more time you spend organizing your clutter the more frustrated you will become. So should you leave your clutter unattended? Sometimes. Other times, work only on those aspects which are very likely going to keep you happy, once cleared. And by happy I don’t mean dance-like-no-one’s-watching-party-all-night-long ‘happy’. I mean sit in solitude, drown in to doing something and it may slowly dawn-on-you ‘happy’.  Happiness may come, it may not. That’s life. The rest is an escape.

Marriage and Its Works...

I wonder how much easier it used to be to have faith, back in my parent’s day… when a naïve girl in her teenage, cocooned from life’s matters, would be married to a stranger ten years older. This was the first and the only man in her life. She would look up at him with devotion and make-believe her heart that this is love. And he would manage somehow to be just that.

Passion or Obsession

I might be tired of writing the whole day but to release the stress I have to organize my thoughts by writing again… even if my hand aches, and even if my system is on snooze, because it drains my emotions on paper and it heals me mentally. It pacifies my encaged soul… and puts my mind to finally rest just before I slowly realize what my only passion is-Writing.

Guilt-free Comfort

If you don't have to crawl through the desert on your knees, repenting,
then what do you have to do?
Dance with your arms flung wide,
Kiss mystery on the mouth,

Eat shawrma for breakfast and salad for dessert?
Take what hunts you at 3am
Out for a convertible ride,
Discover its treasures as the road unwinds?

Exchange your destiny,
For one that looks better on you,
Then fling the other one overboard too?
Or perhaps, there is nothing you have to do.

Perhaps the "have to's" have flown away
And the nest is empty,
and waiting for you to 'be there'
Nothing more