as the days pass, i'm beginning to doubt how resilient i can really be.
here's the thing. i'm not a brown pebble in a sea of rocks. i'm not. trust me. when i want to, i can gell in just as well as i want. most of my life, i've just been one in a sea of faces. i'm not one to stand out. i don't look for attention. i don't cry out, hoping to be heard, wishing somebody'll look my way.
though to be honest, i wouldn't mind somebody turning their head up. with the way things have been lately, i've been taking strength from within me and trying to fill this void that's in my heart, because a part of me? it feels empty. it needs filling.
i've always taken pride in how i'm whole unto me. i don't need people to lift me higher, i don't need a boy to boost my ego or friends to tell me how great i am. i know what i am, and though my spirit's different than most, i don't voice the contradictions i have with people. take for instance, college. today was the last day of my first semester, and i walked out with a smile on my face, only to see i was all alone. my so called friends had left me behind to go out and celebrate. i'll admit, they're not the best and brightest people i've met, but i like most of them. they're nice to me, and if i can deal with being left behind most days, they're okay with me.
only i'm not. okay with being left behind. but what do i do, scream at the sky till they hear me? till i make myself clearer that i want to be treated like i matter, like i belong? my pride won't allow it. so when they do thoughtless stuff like this, i let it slide and pretend i don't care.
i do care. it's not okay for you to turn your back on me. it's not fine when you leave me behind and shrug it off. i don't expect you to give me special treatment. but the least you can do is show me the courtesy of waiting till everyone's out of the exam room so we can go out and celebrate the end of semester together. i texted one of them, the one who used to be MY particular friend before this, and asked her where she and the others had gone. an hour later, she texts back something miserly about how she's sorry, they just decided to leave.
this one in particular, used to be one of my best friends. why would she leave me behind? i wouldn't, she knows i wouldn't?
you want to know a secret? sometimes when i come home and the house is empty because my dad's a workaholic, my brother's as good as not there because he doesn't come into the house till midnight or so, and even when he does, i might as well be talking to the walls, we're not at all close. and my mom..well, she's the strongest person i know. i'd be ashamed to take my petty girl issues to her.she's been through a hell of a lot worse. when i come home, i look at the empty house, think about the bottled up emotions i keep about my sort of friends and break down. talk about stupid. it makes my face turn red later. it's so STUPID. i shouldn't even cry about something as petty as this. but not belonging anywhere and feeling like nobody gives a shit takes its toll sometimes. and all i want is someone, anyone, to reach a hand out and tell me i mean something and that they wouldn't ever leave me behind, i deserve better than that.
i really wish someone would. maybe someday, someone will. i've been waiting. i hope they do.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
2010
let me just kick this off by first saying, happy new year! here's to hoping your year went much better than mine, though despite all the chaos and mayhem and devastation we here in pakistan have seen over the last year, my year still had some really special moments. my brother got married, i turned eighteen and legit and spent my birthday getting half drowned in the rain with friends and a few that aren't so anymore. friends i mean. or real friends anyway. are two people still really, really close if the other suddenly seems to change and drifts away from you, away someplace you don't belong and will never fit in? or is it me that's changed? i really don't know. i don't think i did. though one thing's for sure. my goals and what i want from life just suddenly made themselves crystal clear over the past year. life is fleeting. it is way too short, and everything happening here just seems to reinforce that fact all the more. so i've decided to hell with it.theres not even time to be a cynic. so from now on, i'm going to stick to positivity.or well, i resolved to do that, like twenty days ago anyway.and so far...been working great for me! it didn't come easy. all this time, i've been happy keeping expectations short, hopes not too high, because if you aim low, there's no room for disappointment.
what an idiot I was.
Because if there's anything that this year's taught me...it's that there's no room for disappointment. For as long as I can remember, I've been something of a cynic. I was always the girl who saw the glass as half empty, and refused to raise her hopes too high because she was scared they'd come crashing down on her. Now I'm not going to go into a long winded description of when that all changed, just know that somewhere along the line, it did. Looking around me, all i can see are bombs and devastation and chaos. And it's so easy to convince yourself that things have gotten as bad as they can, that hope's faded away. But then you take a closer look at the people around you..some of them heroes, choosing to fight the constant fear and trepadition instead. And suddenly, you're ashamed. You're ashamed that you stuck your head in a corner and wept and let your fear get to your head when you shoud've been out there, with them , fighting it off. You're ashamed because you know, deep down, that you're made of better stuff than that, that you're bigger and stronger than that. Looking at all these people around you, you see exactly the amount of strength it takes to keep your head held high and your attitude forever optimistic. Seeing them, you realize, there's two ways to look at things. You can cry, and wait for a miracle to save your souls..or you can go out there and be the miracle that changes everything. For my new years resolution this year, I chose to be the miracle.
These past couple of months, I've learnt a lot of lessons that most kids around me, in their despair, have given up on. I learnt that choosing to stay positive, doesn't mean you're deluding yourself against the inevitable, or what seems to be inevitable anyway. It just means that you're choosing to take a bad situation, and extricate out of it, whatever good you can find. Considering where we as a nation are at right now, that doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Maybe that's all we can possibly do. Take the good from it all, and build on it until there's enough of it to fight off the evils standing in your way. I'm immensely proud of the people in my country who've chosen to rise up and shout out against all the attrocities being committed on my motherland, at great personal risk to themselves, constantly reminding us that there is good in all of us, we can do whatever we set our minds to, and that one person really can make a difference. And when we join forces..we as a nation, are capable of starting a revolution towards a safer, better tomorrow. Be inspired, get motivated, to bring a change, because it's in you. No matter where you are, and who you are, know that you are more than everybody makes you out to be. And that includes you.
So despite everything happening..the bombs..the increasing death tolls..the war..I'm choosing to lift my head to the sky and tell God thank you. Because I'm still better off than millions more starving in Sudan, or the women being oppressed in Afghanistan by the warlords, or the homeless lying amongst cardboard boxes in a place as high up as NYC, who don't have a warm bed to sleep in, or a roof over their heads. I have amazing parents who would do anything for me, a brother, who albeit, isn't much of a talker, and is a serious pain in the butt sometimes because he plain refuses to communicate, much preferring to wallow in his one word silences, but i know he cares all the same because i'm his sister and he loves me. Also, because I pay for gas, but I'm thinking that's just an added bonus of having a sister, who unlike him, actually SAVES cash. Even though I'm seven years younger, I flatter myself that I'm much more responsible. Say, like a hundred times over.
I guess I should stop now. I have exams from next week. Finals. It's so strange..it's like everything's gone by in one big blur. One minute, I was walking into my first day at uni, and the next, I'm settled and have a crowd and five months have gone and the semester's over. At this rate, four years are going to speed by before I know it..
Scary thought. I want to savor every minute of school. When I graduate I'll be twenty two, you know. Old. And this being Pakistan and all, I can imagine the only word that'll be buzzing through everybody's heads now that I'm out of college, have a degree and gained as great a level of independence as can be expected of a conservative Pakistani girl..
"marraige"
Not that I mind, too much, I guess. It being the way it is, with me refusing to have a boyfriend, and only ever having really liked one boy in my life, having a guy in my life doesn't sound too bad. I'm even sort of looking forward to it.
Okay, so mass understatement. I am looking forward to it. I want to know what it's like to have a guy think the world of you and love you like crazy. Yes, I want that feeling you get when somebody looks into your eyes and you look back at him with unwavering trust and tenderness and realize that here's somebody who's going to care forever. Yeah, I want that, more than anybody will ever know. I'm a sap to the core. Only not like those annoying girls who read nicholas sparks and pine and go *sighhh*. Phuleez. I want a real man, not a guy who's too wussy to deal with his own issues and writes overly girly sentimental notes. I'm the girl who, in an ideal world, would find and go for the brooding, mysterious type who find it hard to phrase how he's feeling but manages to say it with those little things that matter anyway, and would break bones if he found out anybody had ever hurt people he cared about. I dig guys with anger management issues. Think, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, or Kevin from Ben 10 Alien Force, or Lance aka Avalanche from X Men Evolution. Yeah, I watch a lot of cartoons, alright? My brother was a crazy Marvel fan, it kind of passed on.
I just didn't want to say that out loud. Or write that out loud, I guess. Even though this is anonymous, I still feel like everybody reading can see me, knows its me. Which totally makes sense, given that I've pretty much bared my soul out for all to see. It's just embarassing to admit. I've never actually said slash written it anywhere anybody could actually get this side of me!
what an idiot I was.
Because if there's anything that this year's taught me...it's that there's no room for disappointment. For as long as I can remember, I've been something of a cynic. I was always the girl who saw the glass as half empty, and refused to raise her hopes too high because she was scared they'd come crashing down on her. Now I'm not going to go into a long winded description of when that all changed, just know that somewhere along the line, it did. Looking around me, all i can see are bombs and devastation and chaos. And it's so easy to convince yourself that things have gotten as bad as they can, that hope's faded away. But then you take a closer look at the people around you..some of them heroes, choosing to fight the constant fear and trepadition instead. And suddenly, you're ashamed. You're ashamed that you stuck your head in a corner and wept and let your fear get to your head when you shoud've been out there, with them , fighting it off. You're ashamed because you know, deep down, that you're made of better stuff than that, that you're bigger and stronger than that. Looking at all these people around you, you see exactly the amount of strength it takes to keep your head held high and your attitude forever optimistic. Seeing them, you realize, there's two ways to look at things. You can cry, and wait for a miracle to save your souls..or you can go out there and be the miracle that changes everything. For my new years resolution this year, I chose to be the miracle.
These past couple of months, I've learnt a lot of lessons that most kids around me, in their despair, have given up on. I learnt that choosing to stay positive, doesn't mean you're deluding yourself against the inevitable, or what seems to be inevitable anyway. It just means that you're choosing to take a bad situation, and extricate out of it, whatever good you can find. Considering where we as a nation are at right now, that doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Maybe that's all we can possibly do. Take the good from it all, and build on it until there's enough of it to fight off the evils standing in your way. I'm immensely proud of the people in my country who've chosen to rise up and shout out against all the attrocities being committed on my motherland, at great personal risk to themselves, constantly reminding us that there is good in all of us, we can do whatever we set our minds to, and that one person really can make a difference. And when we join forces..we as a nation, are capable of starting a revolution towards a safer, better tomorrow. Be inspired, get motivated, to bring a change, because it's in you. No matter where you are, and who you are, know that you are more than everybody makes you out to be. And that includes you.
So despite everything happening..the bombs..the increasing death tolls..the war..I'm choosing to lift my head to the sky and tell God thank you. Because I'm still better off than millions more starving in Sudan, or the women being oppressed in Afghanistan by the warlords, or the homeless lying amongst cardboard boxes in a place as high up as NYC, who don't have a warm bed to sleep in, or a roof over their heads. I have amazing parents who would do anything for me, a brother, who albeit, isn't much of a talker, and is a serious pain in the butt sometimes because he plain refuses to communicate, much preferring to wallow in his one word silences, but i know he cares all the same because i'm his sister and he loves me. Also, because I pay for gas, but I'm thinking that's just an added bonus of having a sister, who unlike him, actually SAVES cash. Even though I'm seven years younger, I flatter myself that I'm much more responsible. Say, like a hundred times over.
I guess I should stop now. I have exams from next week. Finals. It's so strange..it's like everything's gone by in one big blur. One minute, I was walking into my first day at uni, and the next, I'm settled and have a crowd and five months have gone and the semester's over. At this rate, four years are going to speed by before I know it..
Scary thought. I want to savor every minute of school. When I graduate I'll be twenty two, you know. Old. And this being Pakistan and all, I can imagine the only word that'll be buzzing through everybody's heads now that I'm out of college, have a degree and gained as great a level of independence as can be expected of a conservative Pakistani girl..
"marraige"
Not that I mind, too much, I guess. It being the way it is, with me refusing to have a boyfriend, and only ever having really liked one boy in my life, having a guy in my life doesn't sound too bad. I'm even sort of looking forward to it.
Okay, so mass understatement. I am looking forward to it. I want to know what it's like to have a guy think the world of you and love you like crazy. Yes, I want that feeling you get when somebody looks into your eyes and you look back at him with unwavering trust and tenderness and realize that here's somebody who's going to care forever. Yeah, I want that, more than anybody will ever know. I'm a sap to the core. Only not like those annoying girls who read nicholas sparks and pine and go *sighhh*. Phuleez. I want a real man, not a guy who's too wussy to deal with his own issues and writes overly girly sentimental notes. I'm the girl who, in an ideal world, would find and go for the brooding, mysterious type who find it hard to phrase how he's feeling but manages to say it with those little things that matter anyway, and would break bones if he found out anybody had ever hurt people he cared about. I dig guys with anger management issues. Think, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, or Kevin from Ben 10 Alien Force, or Lance aka Avalanche from X Men Evolution. Yeah, I watch a lot of cartoons, alright? My brother was a crazy Marvel fan, it kind of passed on.
I just didn't want to say that out loud. Or write that out loud, I guess. Even though this is anonymous, I still feel like everybody reading can see me, knows its me. Which totally makes sense, given that I've pretty much bared my soul out for all to see. It's just embarassing to admit. I've never actually said slash written it anywhere anybody could actually get this side of me!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
More Bombs
Last night saw the eighth attack in five days.two bombs went off in Lahore in this place called Allama Iqbal Town, in the middle of what is a very busy area.twenty nine more people died, and about forty five others were admitted into a hospital with critical or minor wounds.
It's too much to take. I don't even know what to write anymore. I don't seem very capable of coherent thought in my head anymore. All i can feel is this distant numbness, a part of my consciousness that refuses to accept that this is all happening to ME.my hometown.my country. All that ever goes through my head, is, 'how is someone my age..heck.how is someone ANY age, supposed to be able to deal with this murder.there's no other word to call it. it's murder.it's out and out slaughter,and it's murder in cold blood. How can ANYONE go through this, and not be emotionally and psychologically scarred to some degree?!Because I know I am, and more than I ever let on to anyone. The nightmares. Crying into my prayers. The constant sense of impending doom. It's become so deeply ingrained in who I am now. I scarcely remember what it was like to be carefree; those days seem like a lifetime away. Someone else's lifetime.
I try not to think about it and just move along with life. Love and life may have been lost, but the world keeps on turning. So I smile my way through the pain. I go to school.Or university,i guess.I may be eighteen and in college,but I still feel the same as I did when I was thirteen or fourteen. It'll always be school to me. So. I go to school. I deal with a further sense of chaos when I look into all those made up faces and beaming smiles and know I'll never be one of them. Not them, with their perfectly made up faces and their constant swearing because it's 'oh so cool' and their obsession with boys. I know I'll never be one of them because I know what I want in my life. What's left of it anyway. And I want substance. Meaning. Something they can't give me. Though how I'm supposed to find substance amidst all this death and destruction is beyond me. I'm not even sure if my world will still be the same as it was when I wake up. What if there's a sudden burst of white light and next thing I know, I'm floating over my own lifeless body? Or worse, much worse. What if I wake up and I'm staring down into someone else's lifeless body? Someone I care about? How do I live through that? Because we're all under threat. Some of us more than others. And since my dad's a miliary man, he among many other senior official are threatened personally. So yeah. Big ball of laughs there huh.
What scares the heebie jeebies out of me most is giving into this fear. Though a part of me think's I've already resigned myself to it. I'm pretty scared to death that Allah will find that I'm lacking. That my faith's incomplete. That I should give in to His Will, whatever it may be, and place my Trust in Him. And I DO trust Him. I do. But maybe it's not enough. Maybe I need to give more. I am seriously afraid that He's going to think I'm a weak person for not staying calm and saying to myself 'Trust in God, it's going to be okay.Just TRUST.'
Which is not to say I don't. Because I do. But somedays it's easier to calm down yourself with that thought than others.
It can't be religious fanatics that are doing this. I know this because when you see a war like this firsthand, you know that there's more to it. No MUSLIM, good or bad, is capable of this kind of genocide. No MUSLIM, would file into a mosque for Friday Prayers with a lot of other civilans and military personell in what is a military based Mosque, and then, midway during prayers, start firing blindly into the crowd. No MUSLIM, would listen to a father beg to let his five year old son go, his son that he's brought to a mosque to pray for the first time, and then answer that appeal by shooting the little boy first point blank in front of his father, and then the man.No MUSLIM, would ask all the children present in the mosque to lie on their stomachs on the floor, and then shoot them all in the back to death.No MUSLIM, would storm through the curtains seperating the men and women praying quarters, and kill all the praying women too. No Muslim would do that. Not for all the money, not for all the motivation in the world. Not even a religious fanatic can carry out such a specifically targeted killing. This wasn't just a bombing carried out by a madman. This was cold blooded murder, and hundreds of us, including myself, lost people we knew and cared about that day.
I don't think I can write about this anymore. Thinking about this only makes it all the more worse and I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have three assignments and a presentation to work on for univeristy tomorrow. Normal kids have studies to worry about. Pakistani kids get to have schoolwork as the least of their worries. Lucky us. We're too busy worrying about whether we'll be around to submit the darned stuff at school or work or college the next day.
Remember to pray everyone. We are all people, no matter where we live, or what we believe in, and we're entitled to live our lives in relative peace and security. Pray that my people earn that right someday. Pray that I do. Because nobody has the right to take that from us. Nobody.
It's too much to take. I don't even know what to write anymore. I don't seem very capable of coherent thought in my head anymore. All i can feel is this distant numbness, a part of my consciousness that refuses to accept that this is all happening to ME.my hometown.my country. All that ever goes through my head, is, 'how is someone my age..heck.how is someone ANY age, supposed to be able to deal with this murder.there's no other word to call it. it's murder.it's out and out slaughter,and it's murder in cold blood. How can ANYONE go through this, and not be emotionally and psychologically scarred to some degree?!Because I know I am, and more than I ever let on to anyone. The nightmares. Crying into my prayers. The constant sense of impending doom. It's become so deeply ingrained in who I am now. I scarcely remember what it was like to be carefree; those days seem like a lifetime away. Someone else's lifetime.
I try not to think about it and just move along with life. Love and life may have been lost, but the world keeps on turning. So I smile my way through the pain. I go to school.Or university,i guess.I may be eighteen and in college,but I still feel the same as I did when I was thirteen or fourteen. It'll always be school to me. So. I go to school. I deal with a further sense of chaos when I look into all those made up faces and beaming smiles and know I'll never be one of them. Not them, with their perfectly made up faces and their constant swearing because it's 'oh so cool' and their obsession with boys. I know I'll never be one of them because I know what I want in my life. What's left of it anyway. And I want substance. Meaning. Something they can't give me. Though how I'm supposed to find substance amidst all this death and destruction is beyond me. I'm not even sure if my world will still be the same as it was when I wake up. What if there's a sudden burst of white light and next thing I know, I'm floating over my own lifeless body? Or worse, much worse. What if I wake up and I'm staring down into someone else's lifeless body? Someone I care about? How do I live through that? Because we're all under threat. Some of us more than others. And since my dad's a miliary man, he among many other senior official are threatened personally. So yeah. Big ball of laughs there huh.
What scares the heebie jeebies out of me most is giving into this fear. Though a part of me think's I've already resigned myself to it. I'm pretty scared to death that Allah will find that I'm lacking. That my faith's incomplete. That I should give in to His Will, whatever it may be, and place my Trust in Him. And I DO trust Him. I do. But maybe it's not enough. Maybe I need to give more. I am seriously afraid that He's going to think I'm a weak person for not staying calm and saying to myself 'Trust in God, it's going to be okay.Just TRUST.'
Which is not to say I don't. Because I do. But somedays it's easier to calm down yourself with that thought than others.
It can't be religious fanatics that are doing this. I know this because when you see a war like this firsthand, you know that there's more to it. No MUSLIM, good or bad, is capable of this kind of genocide. No MUSLIM, would file into a mosque for Friday Prayers with a lot of other civilans and military personell in what is a military based Mosque, and then, midway during prayers, start firing blindly into the crowd. No MUSLIM, would listen to a father beg to let his five year old son go, his son that he's brought to a mosque to pray for the first time, and then answer that appeal by shooting the little boy first point blank in front of his father, and then the man.No MUSLIM, would ask all the children present in the mosque to lie on their stomachs on the floor, and then shoot them all in the back to death.No MUSLIM, would storm through the curtains seperating the men and women praying quarters, and kill all the praying women too. No Muslim would do that. Not for all the money, not for all the motivation in the world. Not even a religious fanatic can carry out such a specifically targeted killing. This wasn't just a bombing carried out by a madman. This was cold blooded murder, and hundreds of us, including myself, lost people we knew and cared about that day.
I don't think I can write about this anymore. Thinking about this only makes it all the more worse and I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have three assignments and a presentation to work on for univeristy tomorrow. Normal kids have studies to worry about. Pakistani kids get to have schoolwork as the least of their worries. Lucky us. We're too busy worrying about whether we'll be around to submit the darned stuff at school or work or college the next day.
Remember to pray everyone. We are all people, no matter where we live, or what we believe in, and we're entitled to live our lives in relative peace and security. Pray that my people earn that right someday. Pray that I do. Because nobody has the right to take that from us. Nobody.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Aftermath..
And the next thing I know, it's eight forty five in the morning, and my mom is yelling me to get off my lazy butt and out of bed.
I went online that day after I got back from school, same as I do every other day. There on top of my facebook news feed, was a link for a youtube video that a distant cousin of mine had posted. I clicked open the link, and began viewing it from my Facebook page. The video was about Blackwater. What it's supposed to be. What conspiracy theorists say it really is. How there are Blackwater agents right here in Pakistan. Apparently, there've been quite a few sightings of them in Peshawar and areas in the Frontier. They've been spotted driving in sleek, expensive jeeps, dressed all in black..
I couldn't sleep that night. I was scared I'd have another nightmare. And i was so freaked by my dream and what the video seemed to confirm.
I didn't have a nightmare the night after that. But then the night after that I did have one. In that dream, I was passing by one of the neighborhoods, just driving through, minding my own business, when I hear this collosal noise, and when I lift my head up, there's a big mushroom cloud in the sky beneath which the sky's growing a hazy brown and grey with the growing smoke and dust rising in the air. In my dream, this entire apartment complex, incidentally, the ones right next door to the ones that collapsed during the 7.6 magnitude earthquake that killed over 80 000 people on october 8th 2005. It's a bomb. But not a suicide attack, like most are here. It's an intentionally dropped bomb. It sounds crazy, i know. For one, you don't exactly get a mushroom shaped cloud when a small territory is targeted. But that's what i saw.
When I told my best friend Mer, she said all the violence and bombings in the country, everything tht we're going through, with people dying everyday and bodies littering the streets after attacks, it's no wonder this is beginning to have a psychological impact on us. I guess she's right. No, scratch that. I KNOW she's right.
It's just scary, that's all I know.
I went online that day after I got back from school, same as I do every other day. There on top of my facebook news feed, was a link for a youtube video that a distant cousin of mine had posted. I clicked open the link, and began viewing it from my Facebook page. The video was about Blackwater. What it's supposed to be. What conspiracy theorists say it really is. How there are Blackwater agents right here in Pakistan. Apparently, there've been quite a few sightings of them in Peshawar and areas in the Frontier. They've been spotted driving in sleek, expensive jeeps, dressed all in black..
I couldn't sleep that night. I was scared I'd have another nightmare. And i was so freaked by my dream and what the video seemed to confirm.
I didn't have a nightmare the night after that. But then the night after that I did have one. In that dream, I was passing by one of the neighborhoods, just driving through, minding my own business, when I hear this collosal noise, and when I lift my head up, there's a big mushroom cloud in the sky beneath which the sky's growing a hazy brown and grey with the growing smoke and dust rising in the air. In my dream, this entire apartment complex, incidentally, the ones right next door to the ones that collapsed during the 7.6 magnitude earthquake that killed over 80 000 people on october 8th 2005. It's a bomb. But not a suicide attack, like most are here. It's an intentionally dropped bomb. It sounds crazy, i know. For one, you don't exactly get a mushroom shaped cloud when a small territory is targeted. But that's what i saw.
When I told my best friend Mer, she said all the violence and bombings in the country, everything tht we're going through, with people dying everyday and bodies littering the streets after attacks, it's no wonder this is beginning to have a psychological impact on us. I guess she's right. No, scratch that. I KNOW she's right.
It's just scary, that's all I know.
Nightmare
In my first dream, I'm sitting on this park bench with this man. Somewhere, the corner of my brain concerned with reality tells me he's not real but I don't listen. All i know is, that this man right here, is where the waiting paid off. This is where all that hard learned patience stopped at. Dream me knows that I love this man sitting beside me more than anybody else in the whole world, and that he's the one I've dedicated to spending the rest of my existance with. He's telling me about some things. He's worried. He tells me of his hopes, his fears. He's scared that his father will refuse to acknowledge him if he chooses to forge his own path the way he wants to, instead of following in his fathers footsteps and taking a position in the family business. With him, I feel secure and confident. I have never felt so sure of myself in my whole life. With this guy, I know, there's no need to play pretend. There's no games involved. I can be exactly the person I am and he'll love me all the more for it...
As we're talking,minutes pass by and we're unaware of the the time passing, until right then, there's a loud noise. A noise I can't remember the details of, except that it was loud and ominous sounding.
And then,as we turn in shock,we see people turning the corner, running. Running as if their lives depended on it.
And then, as I whirl my head, I spy four men clad in black.wearing these wierd clothes that look more like something a CIA assasin would wear, and my heart sinks. My subconscious can't put a finger on it, but dream me knows this is bad. Very bad.
Beads of sweat start to form on my forehead as recognition hits me hard, like a ton of bricks wallopped right in my stomach. I know who these people are. I know what they want. I know exactly what they want.
And that's us. Dead.
I tug at his hand, that of the one dream-me loves, and pull him to his feet. He whirls his head in confusion and sees what made me react the way I did. His eyes open wide, and he says just one little word:
Run.
We both break into a sprint, a mad dash with our hands still clasped tightly. No matter what happens, there's no way we're letting go. Not of each other. So we run, and we run. We dash across the pavement and into the woods within the parkland. We run across the overgrown path, moving in zig zags, trying to dodge the bullets that are fired our way every time we come into their line of vision. We run as fast as we can, the fear pumping adrenaline into our veins, and as another bullet is fired not too far from us, I think to myself, mad with fright,in a single selfish thought : 'Please. If it's going to be somebody, let it be me. Don't let him get hurt. If You're going to take one of us here, save HIM. Do not let him be taken away from me right before my eyes'.
We reach the end of the woods and we're back onto the main path. The gate is less than a mad dash away so we head insitinctively towards it. They're still behind us, too far to fire, but close enough to watch us. In a crazy move, we join a throng of people screaming and running into an empty storage building with lots of floors. For the rest of the duration of my dream, we and many others run like crazy up and down stairwells and empty corridors, and after we eventually get chased down the basement by the gunmen, we're trapped. There's one vent through which many others are escaping before the gunmen run down the many flights of stairs and corner us, and I'm willing him to go up and hurry, there's no time, the men are almost at the door. I can hear their voices through the thin walls of the basement, they'll be banging down the door any minute. But he won't. He just bloody well won't. There's too many scrambling for the safety of the vent and there's no time for both of us to claw our way through and make our way up the duct. And he says he won't leave me. He's not going anywhere. Oh God, he won't leave. My heart starts to bang against the walls of my chest as panic and fear begin to cave in. He looks just as scared as I am. He does the only thing that makes sense to him at that moment. He brings me close to him and holds me tight. Holds me close and burries his face in my hair and I can feel his heart pounding just as hard as mine as. He lifts his head and looks into my eyes, peers deep as if somehow my face showed a window to my soul. But something tells me he doesn't need a window. He sees my soul just fine without it. And then, he says just three little words before he hugs me tight again, his face burried in my hair and mine against his chest, breathing in his scent as the doors fling open and are beaten down. Says them in a faint whisper, so low only I can hear. And I can hear them loud and clear.
'I love you'...
As we're talking,minutes pass by and we're unaware of the the time passing, until right then, there's a loud noise. A noise I can't remember the details of, except that it was loud and ominous sounding.
And then,as we turn in shock,we see people turning the corner, running. Running as if their lives depended on it.
And then, as I whirl my head, I spy four men clad in black.wearing these wierd clothes that look more like something a CIA assasin would wear, and my heart sinks. My subconscious can't put a finger on it, but dream me knows this is bad. Very bad.
Beads of sweat start to form on my forehead as recognition hits me hard, like a ton of bricks wallopped right in my stomach. I know who these people are. I know what they want. I know exactly what they want.
And that's us. Dead.
I tug at his hand, that of the one dream-me loves, and pull him to his feet. He whirls his head in confusion and sees what made me react the way I did. His eyes open wide, and he says just one little word:
Run.
We both break into a sprint, a mad dash with our hands still clasped tightly. No matter what happens, there's no way we're letting go. Not of each other. So we run, and we run. We dash across the pavement and into the woods within the parkland. We run across the overgrown path, moving in zig zags, trying to dodge the bullets that are fired our way every time we come into their line of vision. We run as fast as we can, the fear pumping adrenaline into our veins, and as another bullet is fired not too far from us, I think to myself, mad with fright,in a single selfish thought : 'Please. If it's going to be somebody, let it be me. Don't let him get hurt. If You're going to take one of us here, save HIM. Do not let him be taken away from me right before my eyes'.
We reach the end of the woods and we're back onto the main path. The gate is less than a mad dash away so we head insitinctively towards it. They're still behind us, too far to fire, but close enough to watch us. In a crazy move, we join a throng of people screaming and running into an empty storage building with lots of floors. For the rest of the duration of my dream, we and many others run like crazy up and down stairwells and empty corridors, and after we eventually get chased down the basement by the gunmen, we're trapped. There's one vent through which many others are escaping before the gunmen run down the many flights of stairs and corner us, and I'm willing him to go up and hurry, there's no time, the men are almost at the door. I can hear their voices through the thin walls of the basement, they'll be banging down the door any minute. But he won't. He just bloody well won't. There's too many scrambling for the safety of the vent and there's no time for both of us to claw our way through and make our way up the duct. And he says he won't leave me. He's not going anywhere. Oh God, he won't leave. My heart starts to bang against the walls of my chest as panic and fear begin to cave in. He looks just as scared as I am. He does the only thing that makes sense to him at that moment. He brings me close to him and holds me tight. Holds me close and burries his face in my hair and I can feel his heart pounding just as hard as mine as. He lifts his head and looks into my eyes, peers deep as if somehow my face showed a window to my soul. But something tells me he doesn't need a window. He sees my soul just fine without it. And then, he says just three little words before he hugs me tight again, his face burried in my hair and mine against his chest, breathing in his scent as the doors fling open and are beaten down. Says them in a faint whisper, so low only I can hear. And I can hear them loud and clear.
'I love you'...
Hiatus
I don't find myself writing much these days. I don't know why. Writing was something i did everyday. It came naturally to me, as breathing and eating and drinking do to a person. It's not that I don't have anything to say. Far from it..
But I've seemed to lose track of the words to say them in. I muse over the things going through my head, churning over and over in my brain and trying to make sense of the thoughts going through my head and the feelings I'm feeling. It's not easy anymore. There's so many thoughts going through my mind all at once. I worry about school, about my grades, about the fact that I'm still struggling with the people I'm hanging out with. They're not my friends, they're more my friends' friends. I actually kind of hate them. But I'm finally taking a stand and deciding who I want to be happy hanging out with. I've seperated,so to speak,from them now. So clearly,there's a lot I have to deal with and do. But most of all...I pray.
Even as I write this, I'm struggling. I can't seem to figure out how to best phrase this massive web of confusion that's wrapped itself well around my head. I've lost what little grip I had over the words I chose to describe what I was going through. I guess I'll just come right out and say it. All of it.
More than anything, I find that there's fear in my heart. Fear of what's happening. Fear of what I don't know.Fear of what's to come..
Everyday seems to be a struggle. And deep down, in the pit of my stomach, there's dread. Quite a bit of it. I dread what I fear is inevitable. I'm scared that there's a clock ticking by somewhere, counting down the seconds till everything that's been happening in my country blows up in our faces and somebody else decides to take control.
It's consumed every bit of me. It's taken over my consciousness, and my subconsciousness, seeping into my dreams and turning them into my worst nightmares...
But I've seemed to lose track of the words to say them in. I muse over the things going through my head, churning over and over in my brain and trying to make sense of the thoughts going through my head and the feelings I'm feeling. It's not easy anymore. There's so many thoughts going through my mind all at once. I worry about school, about my grades, about the fact that I'm still struggling with the people I'm hanging out with. They're not my friends, they're more my friends' friends. I actually kind of hate them. But I'm finally taking a stand and deciding who I want to be happy hanging out with. I've seperated,so to speak,from them now. So clearly,there's a lot I have to deal with and do. But most of all...I pray.
Even as I write this, I'm struggling. I can't seem to figure out how to best phrase this massive web of confusion that's wrapped itself well around my head. I've lost what little grip I had over the words I chose to describe what I was going through. I guess I'll just come right out and say it. All of it.
More than anything, I find that there's fear in my heart. Fear of what's happening. Fear of what I don't know.Fear of what's to come..
Everyday seems to be a struggle. And deep down, in the pit of my stomach, there's dread. Quite a bit of it. I dread what I fear is inevitable. I'm scared that there's a clock ticking by somewhere, counting down the seconds till everything that's been happening in my country blows up in our faces and somebody else decides to take control.
It's consumed every bit of me. It's taken over my consciousness, and my subconsciousness, seeping into my dreams and turning them into my worst nightmares...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Catch Me, I'm Falling
what do you do, when you feel like the misfit? what do you do, when you just don't seem to belong, no matter how much you want or how hard you try?
because i want to.belong, i mean.more than anything in the world, lately, all i want is acceptance for who i am, and people to like me for me, without judging me. but it just isn't happening.
i'm different from them all. some are nice, but they just don't care about the same stuff that i do. they're not good Muslims, most of them smoke and have boyfriends and another just plain hates my guts for a reason i don't know. my particular friend has a pretty big social circle so she pretty much hits it off with everyone. she's charming and funny and a witty sense of humor and a fast tongue that comes up with quirky retorts to anything anybody has to say. i've never heard her use "umm.." in my life.
they all seem to be fine with where they are and what crowds they're hanging out with, but despite them all (well..almost all anyway) being perfectly sweet to me and great fun, there's just this feeling of...disconnectedness that i have for some whacko reason. it's like a thorn in my side that i just can't remove. my friend that i wrote about is amazing, and she's the one i lean on most, but she's got a huge social circle and many many friends and she gets along with everybody.so even though she looks out for me sometimes..i still feel like i'm different from teh rest. my ideals, my moral values, the things important to me in life..they're not all the same as these guys.i'm not a prude, and though i think it's perfectly vulgar for girls in particular, to smoke, i don't mind much when strangers or distant friends are doing it because in all honesty, why would i care much when somebody not close to me does something? i believe in waiting for the one guy i'm going to be spending my life with and they're perfectly fine with having boyfriends. being a good Muslim and trying to live my life by Islamic ideals is the highlight of my life and most of these kids don't care much about it. so even though i usually enjoy their company and all, i get the feeling that in four years of college, i'd never be able to share anything meaningful with these girls,never be able to open up to them as close friends do.because to be great friends, you need to believe in some of the same things.at the very least, your core values should be the same.and they aren't.so when they talk about smoking and boyfriends and parties and stuff, how can i not feel uncomfortable, knowing i can never be a part of what they share?
among this crowd,the girls i hang out with the most is my friend, the one i wrote about in my previous posts,and astonishingly, the girl who hates me.i don't hang out with her out of choice. i feel very awkward with her most of the time because i can't understand what i could have done to make her hate me so,i don't even KNOW her.but because she and my friend get along really well together and hang out,i have to deal with it.anyway, with those two together and one of them glaring at me half the time, it makes me feel uneasy all the time.and my other friend hasn't really said anything about it, i think she tries not to mention it all,which isn't really helping, but i think maybe she feels like 'what can i do anyway'.
so bottom line, university and i, are not gelling together. there are good days, and then there are outright trollish days.it's very inconsistent.but all in all,it's not a place i feel people like me for who i am. i think it's more like they carry an idea of who i am, because in all honesty, it's only been a month, and with teh kind of crowd around ehr, i don't think i could ever open up enough to them to give them a glimpse of who the real me even is.
it's downright depressing.any suggestions for how i might avoid any future awkwardness? my strategy is ignore it, and maybe things will work out for themselves.but its not helping contain my frustration with the way things are going.. :(
because i want to.belong, i mean.more than anything in the world, lately, all i want is acceptance for who i am, and people to like me for me, without judging me. but it just isn't happening.
i'm different from them all. some are nice, but they just don't care about the same stuff that i do. they're not good Muslims, most of them smoke and have boyfriends and another just plain hates my guts for a reason i don't know. my particular friend has a pretty big social circle so she pretty much hits it off with everyone. she's charming and funny and a witty sense of humor and a fast tongue that comes up with quirky retorts to anything anybody has to say. i've never heard her use "umm.." in my life.
they all seem to be fine with where they are and what crowds they're hanging out with, but despite them all (well..almost all anyway) being perfectly sweet to me and great fun, there's just this feeling of...disconnectedness that i have for some whacko reason. it's like a thorn in my side that i just can't remove. my friend that i wrote about is amazing, and she's the one i lean on most, but she's got a huge social circle and many many friends and she gets along with everybody.so even though she looks out for me sometimes..i still feel like i'm different from teh rest. my ideals, my moral values, the things important to me in life..they're not all the same as these guys.i'm not a prude, and though i think it's perfectly vulgar for girls in particular, to smoke, i don't mind much when strangers or distant friends are doing it because in all honesty, why would i care much when somebody not close to me does something? i believe in waiting for the one guy i'm going to be spending my life with and they're perfectly fine with having boyfriends. being a good Muslim and trying to live my life by Islamic ideals is the highlight of my life and most of these kids don't care much about it. so even though i usually enjoy their company and all, i get the feeling that in four years of college, i'd never be able to share anything meaningful with these girls,never be able to open up to them as close friends do.because to be great friends, you need to believe in some of the same things.at the very least, your core values should be the same.and they aren't.so when they talk about smoking and boyfriends and parties and stuff, how can i not feel uncomfortable, knowing i can never be a part of what they share?
among this crowd,the girls i hang out with the most is my friend, the one i wrote about in my previous posts,and astonishingly, the girl who hates me.i don't hang out with her out of choice. i feel very awkward with her most of the time because i can't understand what i could have done to make her hate me so,i don't even KNOW her.but because she and my friend get along really well together and hang out,i have to deal with it.anyway, with those two together and one of them glaring at me half the time, it makes me feel uneasy all the time.and my other friend hasn't really said anything about it, i think she tries not to mention it all,which isn't really helping, but i think maybe she feels like 'what can i do anyway'.
so bottom line, university and i, are not gelling together. there are good days, and then there are outright trollish days.it's very inconsistent.but all in all,it's not a place i feel people like me for who i am. i think it's more like they carry an idea of who i am, because in all honesty, it's only been a month, and with teh kind of crowd around ehr, i don't think i could ever open up enough to them to give them a glimpse of who the real me even is.
it's downright depressing.any suggestions for how i might avoid any future awkwardness? my strategy is ignore it, and maybe things will work out for themselves.but its not helping contain my frustration with the way things are going.. :(
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