I just noticed that "3arabi 3ashan 3adi 3ala" fekra all start with the letter "3". Ah, letter.
el so2al el molle7 ba2a delwa2ti, howa el nass elli bete2ra elli ana katbah w mabtefhamsh menno 7aga dah 3ashan it's in English walla 3ashan ana lama bafakar elli beyetla3 menni ba3d el tafkeer mesh mafhoom 3'er leya bass ( w sa3at walla 7atta leya). Asl mawdoo3 English dah mafhoom, walahy ana nefsi at3allem akteb 3arabi 3ashan ana 3andi 7agat keteer tet2al wana mesh 3ayzaha tet2al lel nass elli betefham english bass, w mesh 3ayzaha tet2al lel nass elli beye2ro bass.
Maho asl el stereotype (mesh ha3raf atsaraf fel kelma dih) beta3 en maba3rafsh a2ra wakteb 3arabi fa yeb2a ana mayenfa3sh afeed el masreyeen dah mesh hayenfa3 yegri waraya keteer. Kol ma7awel a2ool ra2yee f7aga ma7adesh bey.. (take me seriously??) beyesma3li 3ashan ana fi nazarhom wa7da metrabbeya barra w lama geit da5alt madaress american w ba3daha british system w ba3deehom I topped it off bgam3a joint mabein gam3et el kahera w georgia state university.
Tab ana 3ayza a3'ayar el balad.. atsaraf ezzay ya3ni? lama ana 3ashan a2ool gomla 3arabi, batbahdel 3ashan ala2i kelma 3edla tet7at. W lama bala2i el kelma el 3edla 3adatan beteb2a kelma metargema 7arfeyan men english le 3arabi waktashef en bel 3arabi keda malhash ma3na.. aw ma3naha keda mesh el ma3na elli ana 3ayza a2oolo bel English. Tab aslan ana maba3rafsh a2ool "Engeleezi". 3omri ma3reft a7otaha fi gomla mofeeda.. fa men 3'er ma2sod (I come across?.. ummm) baban leli odami el shabba elli gaya tetnatat 3alehom. Da 3'er ma2sat sha3ry el curly elli beykarar fi aw2at 3'areeba eno yatakamas sha5seyet shagara fi mahab el ree7. Tab heya mesh dih el mafrood lo3'ati? Elmoshkella eni awel magi atkallem keda ba7ess eni baharag. Mesh 3arfa asada2 nafsi ya3ni.. w mabein kol gomla w gomla ba7awel akne3 nafsi eni mesh ba2lesh.. bass hat3awed "3ashan 3ady 3alafekra".
wana 3andi kalimat zeyada, ba7otaha fil gomla 3ashan 3ala mafakar fel kelma elli 3ayza a2olha yekoon elli odami etlaha fil kelma elli ana oltaha.. welli etkallemo m3aya 3arfeen eni ba2ool "lesababen mah", "3adatan", "a7yanan", "tab", "Elli howa", "Elli howa nezam ba2a" "fe3lan?", "howa fe3lan", "2ella howa fe3lan?" "El fekra en", "elfekra mesh en", "mazonesh", "masalan" w tab3an "sanya wa7da bass hagama3" aktar men ay kalemat tanya fel lo3'a el 3arabeya.
Elli yesma3ni ba2ool keda yefteker masalan eni 2ommi aw aboya men balad tanya, bass la2.. masreyeen. (awi ba2a)
Ana bass lafeit keteer, wana kol 7aga feya masreya, elli mat3alemtoosh men masr (3'er qawa3ed el lo3'a), zan2et el tafkeer elli mo3zam el nass 7ashra nafsaha feeha.. elli howa "The Box" (akeed masmoosh el sandoo2.. sa7?). Howa fi box zay beta3 masr? welli fakreen nafsohom mesh ma7shoreen feeh beyerga3oolo fi as3'ar el 7agat. Mogarad eni batkallem ma3 7ad barra my network of friends (ma3reftesh atsaraf feeha bardo) w sa3at gowaha kaman, beyetbasseli akeni mareeda.. w mesh mareeda b2ay 7aga, 3andi.. 3andi 2amal. (2amal, mesh 2aml). welli as3ab men keda, moktane3a en kol 7aga momken tet7al w tet3'ayar 3ady ya3ni. w ekfeena el shar ya rab a3oozo bellah men el shaytan el rajeem w la 7awl wala qowat ella bellah allaho el shafy el mo3afy.. Ba7eb Masr =O. w ba7eb arafha!
ma32eni mado2tesh arafha w morraha zay ba2eet el nass, aboya safeer ba2alo 7awali 3ashar seneen, w men abl matweled b 14 sana kan fil 5argeya. da 3'er eni aslan, ma3aya el genseya el americeya 3ashan mawlooda henak. bel raqam el qawmi bkollo. bass howa dah bey2alel men (my credibility?..) Masdaqeyeti ka wa7da masreya bet7eb el ballad. Ana mesh 3ayza the U.S, the U.S mesh me7tagani. w mawgooda w hatefdal mawgooda ya3ni, ha3mel beeha eh delwa2ti?
kal3ada ana mesh 3arfa ana ba7awel awsal le2eh delwa2ti fil la7za dih.. bass ana olt agarab ya3ni akteb 3arabi.. tab howa 7ad mesada2ni?
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
But Who Do You Want Me to Be?
This part of this post is dedicated to Ruba khaled and Only Ruba khaled.
Horses are really strong, but they are gentle souls. They have beautiful eyes and I've never seen a fat horse. The muscles! They are loyal but they are independent. They are the perfect combination of physical and mental strength. That's why. Thank you for asking me those questions, You got me thinking. I never knew why horses until today. I love you.
*****
I'm currently writing something, that needs alot of work. And I'm trying to save my energy and words for it. I have been thinking about this particular article for a really long while and it will take alot of work from me to write it the way it is in my head. I never edit anything I write, atleast not until 3 months after I've written it, and I'm not going to edit this one before I post it either. It's really important to me and thats why I need to give it as much attention in my head as it deserves, because as soon as I type the words, they will stay unchanged for a long time. So, yeah. I have work to do. I miss writing here though.
Horses are really strong, but they are gentle souls. They have beautiful eyes and I've never seen a fat horse. The muscles! They are loyal but they are independent. They are the perfect combination of physical and mental strength. That's why. Thank you for asking me those questions, You got me thinking. I never knew why horses until today. I love you.
*****
I'm currently writing something, that needs alot of work. And I'm trying to save my energy and words for it. I have been thinking about this particular article for a really long while and it will take alot of work from me to write it the way it is in my head. I never edit anything I write, atleast not until 3 months after I've written it, and I'm not going to edit this one before I post it either. It's really important to me and thats why I need to give it as much attention in my head as it deserves, because as soon as I type the words, they will stay unchanged for a long time. So, yeah. I have work to do. I miss writing here though.
Friday, September 17, 2010
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?
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?
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
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?
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?
Monday, September 6, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, August 23, 2010
The Sink
Despite any assumptions about how our family apartment should actually be, we have one bathroom in this apartment. That's right. One Bathroom, and most of the time, Seven People. Seven people who happen to wake up at the same time. Seven People who eat at the Same time. And seven people who, most of the time, tend to decide to use the bathroom at the same time. So to avoid excessive knocking and screaming, (And if you forget to lock the door, it's just screaming), I learned to take a little tour of the house before I decide to shower, to let everyone know that the bathroom will be occupied for the next hour or so.
The funny thing is, because everyone always want what they can't get, I've developed the habit of reading on the washing machine. And ofcourse all of my important thinking happens in the shower. All of my singing practice happens in there too. In fact, this blog post started out in my head in the shower just an hour ago. I remember when I really realised I can sing, I used to print out the lyrics to "Every Breath You Take", "Under Pressure" and "All That I've Got" and I'd stick them in the shower. And it would be ages before my neighbours can take their hands off of their ears. And it's not just about the shower and the washing machine.
The sink. The part of the day when I wake up and drag myself to the bathroom and stand infront of the sink to wash my face and then look up at myself in the mirror, is never just a simple moment. Regardless of the hundreds of times my family almost knocked down the door because I was taking too long in there, that moment is something else. I never realise how long I'm standing there, looking myself straight in the eyes, with the water running to waste. Even if I'm an hour late for a lecture, I can never stop it from happening. I look at myself like I'm someone I haven't seen in years. The moment they start knocking on that door like madmen, I realise it's been 10 minutes, and I haven't even moved in an inch. No wonder they think I'm reckless and irresponsible...
I just remembered why I was writing about this in the first place, when I was telling my parents that I'm going to shower, my mom told me to wait till the morning because it's almost fagr and everyone will want to pray, and they'll need to use the bathroom first. I told her I'll only take ten minutes (yes, I lie when it comes to how much time things will take!). So my dad actually said, "Yeah, and you shouldnt wash your hair in the morning and then go out, you'll catch a cold". Umm, it's 40 Degrees (c). So, yeah... This house.. is REALLY weird.
I've been listening to a justin bieber song for about three hours now. Don't get me wrong, I can't stop listening to it because it's featuring Jaden Smith. And I can't get over how much he sounds like his father. Well the miniature version of his father. And I wonder if it really takes parents who have a great marriage to bring up emotionally stable, bright,and talented children.
"No pun intended, I was raised by the power of Will" - Jaden Smith - Never Say Never.
The funny thing is, because everyone always want what they can't get, I've developed the habit of reading on the washing machine. And ofcourse all of my important thinking happens in the shower. All of my singing practice happens in there too. In fact, this blog post started out in my head in the shower just an hour ago. I remember when I really realised I can sing, I used to print out the lyrics to "Every Breath You Take", "Under Pressure" and "All That I've Got" and I'd stick them in the shower. And it would be ages before my neighbours can take their hands off of their ears. And it's not just about the shower and the washing machine.
The sink. The part of the day when I wake up and drag myself to the bathroom and stand infront of the sink to wash my face and then look up at myself in the mirror, is never just a simple moment. Regardless of the hundreds of times my family almost knocked down the door because I was taking too long in there, that moment is something else. I never realise how long I'm standing there, looking myself straight in the eyes, with the water running to waste. Even if I'm an hour late for a lecture, I can never stop it from happening. I look at myself like I'm someone I haven't seen in years. The moment they start knocking on that door like madmen, I realise it's been 10 minutes, and I haven't even moved in an inch. No wonder they think I'm reckless and irresponsible...
I just remembered why I was writing about this in the first place, when I was telling my parents that I'm going to shower, my mom told me to wait till the morning because it's almost fagr and everyone will want to pray, and they'll need to use the bathroom first. I told her I'll only take ten minutes (yes, I lie when it comes to how much time things will take!). So my dad actually said, "Yeah, and you shouldnt wash your hair in the morning and then go out, you'll catch a cold". Umm, it's 40 Degrees (c). So, yeah... This house.. is REALLY weird.
I've been listening to a justin bieber song for about three hours now. Don't get me wrong, I can't stop listening to it because it's featuring Jaden Smith. And I can't get over how much he sounds like his father. Well the miniature version of his father. And I wonder if it really takes parents who have a great marriage to bring up emotionally stable, bright,and talented children.
"No pun intended, I was raised by the power of Will" - Jaden Smith - Never Say Never.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Shade of Green You Never Saw
I am okay with whatever I have right now. The thing is, I don't know what I have. I really don't know what I have right now to keep me going.
there are few things I am certain about, and most of my certainty is about my uncertainty.
I know that I can write. I know that I can not describe an object, or a sight, but I can describe the feelings it gives me, or anyone.
I know that I have thoughts that are different from others around me, but I also know that the moment I try to express them, my heart rate will sprint out of control.
I know that I stutter most of the time.
I know that I write "your welcome" even though I know it's actually "you're welcome".
I know that reconnecting with a certain person could've been enough to shake me to my core, but it didn't.
I know that I laugh a lot, because it's easier, and because I can't control it.
I know that I am a Muslim, but I also know that I know less about Islam than I know about anything else.
I know that I believe in this country, and the people of this country.
I know that I can say " I know I can say" and I don't have to say "that". I also know that I like using the word that.
I know that my last statement could be very confusing.
I know that my spelling has improved drastically in the past three years.
I know that when I was a child, I wanted to paint. I wanted to paint because I wanted to move people.
I know that I cannot paint.
I know that I've always loved food. I also know that I love food more than I should.
I know that my hands shake in interviews. I know I let them shake.
I know I can sing. I also know I don't have control over my own voice.
I know I rarely ever know what I'm doing.
I know I can turn most situations to my favor at the end of the day.
I know some people scare me.
I know I rarely meet deadlines. And I always know if I will, or not.
I know I don't like to remember certain years of my life, but I have no regrets.
I know I'm the loudest screamer in any amusement park.
I know that if I died today, and everyone found out everything I ever hid from the world, most people will hate me.
I know I'm all you have sometimes.
And I know sometimes, most of the time, you are all I have.
And finally, I know I talk to myself like I'm a stranger, because that's really what I am.
And I'm okay with all I have.. for now.
there are few things I am certain about, and most of my certainty is about my uncertainty.
I know that I can write. I know that I can not describe an object, or a sight, but I can describe the feelings it gives me, or anyone.
I know that I have thoughts that are different from others around me, but I also know that the moment I try to express them, my heart rate will sprint out of control.
I know that I stutter most of the time.
I know that I write "your welcome" even though I know it's actually "you're welcome".
I know that reconnecting with a certain person could've been enough to shake me to my core, but it didn't.
I know that I laugh a lot, because it's easier, and because I can't control it.
I know that I am a Muslim, but I also know that I know less about Islam than I know about anything else.
I know that I believe in this country, and the people of this country.
I know that I can say " I know I can say" and I don't have to say "that". I also know that I like using the word that.
I know that my last statement could be very confusing.
I know that my spelling has improved drastically in the past three years.
I know that when I was a child, I wanted to paint. I wanted to paint because I wanted to move people.
I know that I cannot paint.
I know that I've always loved food. I also know that I love food more than I should.
I know that my hands shake in interviews. I know I let them shake.
I know I can sing. I also know I don't have control over my own voice.
I know I rarely ever know what I'm doing.
I know I can turn most situations to my favor at the end of the day.
I know some people scare me.
I know I rarely meet deadlines. And I always know if I will, or not.
I know I don't like to remember certain years of my life, but I have no regrets.
I know I'm the loudest screamer in any amusement park.
I know that if I died today, and everyone found out everything I ever hid from the world, most people will hate me.
I know I'm all you have sometimes.
And I know sometimes, most of the time, you are all I have.
And finally, I know I talk to myself like I'm a stranger, because that's really what I am.
And I'm okay with all I have.. for now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
