Years of writing thoughts, feelings, life experiences, articles, posts, poetry, short stories,
years of saying proudly words is where I belong,
words is what I know how to do best..
years of writing emotional, philosophical equations that no one including myself can solve.
ageing does bring confidence and a growing sense of self and certain rash what the hell, but, oddly at the exact same time, I may feel Absolutely no different when I were 17, I understand, in the good logical part of my mind, that this is not precisely the case.
I really do know more than what I did 10 years ago, I can sit down and make a detailed list of all the things I know now, its literally so, but there are times when it doesn't feel so.
The powerful irrational part of my brain is urgently telegraphing that all those things I've learnt are somehow irrelevant, or are no more than figments, or count for nothing: the truth is that I am just still feeling like a teenager who is masquerading as a grown up.
I do believe that the defining feature of humanbeings is their bizarre ability to hold two opposing ideas at once.
The aspect of ageing is a perfect example.
I know I am gaining knowledge and wisdom and savvy and all those good things, I have the scars to show for it, because I have learnt the hard way (I wonder if there's any other way ! Does anyone ever say I learnt the easy way?!)
I have a perfect pension fund of emotional and practical experience, ready to be drawn on.
Yet there are moments when all this count for nothing and I find myself at a loss, convinced that the growing up police or something are about to tap me on the shoulder and say I am busted
I wonder whether this is because somewhere along the line, someone in a book or a movie or even IRL laid down a template of what an adult should look like! If I don't fulfil this picture in every aspect I must feel I can not be the real thing.
I hope vainly that I can go on perpetuating the illusion, I pray that everyone else is so preoccupied with their own mad simulacrum of adulthood that they won't notice the paper thin aspect of my own counterfeit.
The only way I see around this paradox is to accept it.
Some days I feel really old indeed, that I only fit for reading the columns and pondering my pension, on other days I am filled with youthful folly and want to go put glitter in my nails and eat jello for breakfast.
Age is mostly a state of mind, and I know for sure that my mind is fervid and unpredictable, there's no perfect template for being a grown up, no secret prescription written down somewhere of how I should feel or behave or even be.
So I'm embracing all my scattered inner selves, and won't bow to any misguided imperative.
لأمش عدم رضا
لأ مش سخط
انما عدم قبول..
عدم قدرة على الاستكانة
كل حاجة حاوليا بقت بتستفزنى.. وبتعصبنى.. وبكون عاوزة اصرخ او فعلا بقيت بصرخ
مش طايقة الغباوة بتاعت الناس
مش طايقة الحيوانات اللى ماشيين يعكسوا البنات
مش طايقة الشغل وملله و الختم والسركى وامضت المدير وموافقة سعة الوزير
مش طايقة كلام زمايلى الفكسان العبيط فالسياسة والدين اللى اغلبه غلط وهذى
مش طايقة المواصلات والزحمة والطريق من البيت للشغل
مش طايقة البلد وحالها اللى متغيرش ومبيتغيرش ومش حيتغير
برغم كل الثورات من سنة 1919
مش طايقة اقتراحات الناس وتدخلهم فى حياتي
مش طايقة الكلام الماسخ اللى مبيتغيرش فالبيت
بقيت بتضيق اووووووى لما حد يجى يتكلم معايا ويخدنى من كتاب فى ايدي او حتة مزيكا فى ودنى
انا مش سوداوية ولا مكتئبة انما انا بصة للدنيا من غير لوكلوك ورغى ومجاملات فارغة. بصلها من جوا الناس مش من اللى على لسانهم
الكوباية مبقيتش نصها فاضى او مليان بالنسبة ليا بقيت بشوف بس ايه اللى فالكوباية
ازاى كل حاجة حاوليا بقيت ممستفزه كده مش عارفة!!
كل اللى متاكدة منه ان دنيتى صغرت عليا ومبقتش طايقها
مش فكرة غرور ولا انى احسن ولا نيلة بس معرفش ليه مبقيتش قادرة اقبل عيشتى كده..
جوايا نفس قبضت القلب اللى بحسها كل ما حاجة تكون حتسيب علامة فى حياتى او تغيرها.. بس مجرد احساس
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Once I were young and arrogant and aasumed I know all the answers, yet I didn't have the time to ask the questions.
I were busy falling in love with wrong people and shooting for the moon, I had no fear, I thought I know everything though I knew nothing, then I get to the age of knowing something, and I realise that I do in fact know nothing,
Sometimes I wanna go back to Rolling Stones song that says you can't always get what you want but sometimes, if youtry, you get what you need, I heard the perfect note of a universal truth.
Yet matter fact some people can read all the books, think all the thoughts, they can make mistakes and learn from it, they can even be too cleaver and learn from other people mistakes, they can study them newspapers and them talkshows, they pay attention and still they may not know what the hell ian it all about, I seen people like this, yet its sort of all right.
Here's what I believe is true: frailty and confusion are the human condition. And I admit to them.
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"MY FORMULA FOR LIVING IS QUITE SIMPLE. I GET UP IN THE MORNING AND I GET TO BED AT NIGHT. IN BETWEEN, I OCCUPY MYSELF AS BEST I CAN." ~Cary Grant
That's the way I live it too Mr. Grant
