And In health.

Have you ever taken a bottle of water or soda out of the freezer and it looked like it was still liquid, and the second you start shaking it, it freezes up into solid ice. It's like all it needed was a reassortment of it's particles so it could be what it's meant to be. It needed to be held, and moved. And poof, it's solid ice. That could be one of those things that fascinates me every single time I witness. And every time it happens it gets me thinking about what it means.

My family is expecting new additions to the family. My sister is 8 months pregnant and according to her doctor, she could be in labor any minute now. Inshaa'allah, very soon this house will be filled with diapers and baby food and well.. A little baby boy. My mother was talking to me about her parents yesterday, and out of nowhere she said that she is hoping to god that she would get to see my children. The thing is, my brother and sister are 7 and 10 years older than me, respectively. And my sister got married at the age of 26 and my brother got married at the age of 24. I'm Eighteen. I don't see marriage in my near future at all.

It scares me senseless. How many people are lucky enough to get married and spend the rest of their lives with another human being without changing their mind about them. How could someone just stand there and vow to commit to this one person until death seperates them. And the way I see it,  it's so much easier to love some one when they aren't close to you. People stand there and they say "I promise to love and cherish you, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part". It's said like even though things will get rough, they will still keep their promise. But it's so much easier to love someone when things get worse, when there's a financial crisis, when they're sick, and finally when they're dead. It's so much easier to love and care for someone who is wounded.
Am I the only girl on the face of the planet that's thinking like this?

 It's the "& In Health" part that really worries me.

The silliest things worry me about commitment. I don't imagine a situation when I'd ever hand over the television remote to someone else. I can't even begin to imagine why I would ever get used to the taste of olives because someone else likes them. I know that even if I pick out the olives from my plate, I will still taste olives. And I don't want to taste olives.

But my mother wants to live to see me in a wedding dress, and she wants to hold my children.

So, now what?

Is that What They See?

It's a Bird! It's a Plane! NO! It's a red and blue underwear (xxL) that flew out of your obese neighbour's window.

I feel like that underwear sometimes. Ah, Yes, I just compared myself to an underwear. I feel completely out of place sometimes, and it's like someone else should be doing what I'm trying to do. It should be a bird, and it should be a plane. What if it's not supposed to be me? At some point, this year.. I actually believed with all of my heart that I knew what I was doing. I believed that no one else would know what to do. I knew what to do and it was going to change the world. I was more than a bird and more than a plane. I was more than I ever expected myself to be. That's what I saw. That's what I saw and seeing is believing. I had a purpose. People will thank me. And people will say my name when I'm not in the room and they will smile at how things are, and they will flinch at the thought of things being different.  People will remember who I am long after I am gone, and they will quote me.

But I am not that person today. I am not a bird and I am not a plane. I am that bright red and blue underwear just waiting to get stranded on a tree branch somewhere. Who said that's a bad thing? Atleast I'm still in the air. I am weak because I am human. And I am strong because I have the strength to admit how weak I am at this moment. I still believe that there's a plan for me. I still believe that I was not born to be forgotten in a laundry basket, oh, or worse. I was born to do something and I keep losing track of the variations of the people I could be. I can no longer say that I think things will change "when I grow up". I am eighteen years old. I should vote. I should drive. I should know things. I should know what I can and can not be. I should stop waiting for something to happen, because it IS happening. It's all happening and it's happening without me, whatever it is.

It pains me to see people who still see me as the bird or the plane. And I feel like screaming everytime I'm meeting someone new, because I still talk like someone who is about to change the world. It's all I feel like saying today, it's An UNDERWEAR. It's a freaking Underwear. IT'S AN UNDERWEAR! IT'S AN UNDERWEAR. IT'S AN UNDERWEAR UNTIL IT TURNS INTO SOMETHING ELSE. FOR NOW, IT'S AN UNDERWEAR.

Now, where's that tree branch so I can cling to it until I figure out where I want to go from there?

The thing about the words I say.

I am here to make sure that I will not stop writing. Saying everything is okay at this point will sound to my own ears like the most moronic advertisment ever aired on Egyptian Television, "Americana... 100% Egyptian".

Things are far from being fine, and I am far from being at peace. I am slowly tormenting myself over things I have no control over. I am chasing after thoughts that never really existed, and I'm not sure if I'm trying to chase them away, or to get a hold of them. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I'm fighting. But I know that I am looking for two things, I am looking for a concrete belief in god, and I am looking for something to want.

I envy heart broken people, because atleast they have an idea what they want. I envy people who are failing at something, because atleast they know what they want to achieve. I envy people who are fighting for their freedom, because they know where they want to be. I envy people who made a decision to stop doing something, because they know what they want and dont want to stand for.

What would my writing be like if I was the kind of person who knew how to write in a constant chain of metaphors and analogies? How do I manage to make my sentences seem so simple, yet at the end of each piece of writing, most people still don't understand what I'm trying to say?

How many times a day will I have to ask my self if I'm staring into space because I'm really thinking, or because I want to be thinking? The answer never changes.. "I don't know, but keep thinking". I am tired of thinking, I want to do something. I want to find out what it is Im thinking about. I want to want something. But wanting to want doesn't count, does it?

For the first time in a long while, I feel like one Eman. I don't feel like a thousand little parts of me stuck together with a half-chewed stick of gum. I am just Eman, one that is so indifferent about most things. I am finally one, and I don't care. I don't care. I don't want anything. I don't want anything for me. I don't want to win anything, I dont want to be anywhere, I dont want to be with anyone, I don't want to learn anything. I just want to stand still and let everyone else get a head start at everything possible.

I say alot of things.. I say I can do alot of things.. I don't think I've ever tried to do any of them.

I don't want to play with the rubiks cube, because I can't handle the pressure I feel when I can't get a row in order.

I feel like thanking Omar Abhar for Existing. So yeah.. Thank you for existing.. You are one of very few people that I don't find Irritating at the moment. So yeah.. that's about it for now.