Category Archives: Self conversations.

WHO AM I?

What is the purpose of our existence if we can’t be true to ourselves?! Are we created to be made – or just to be?

The answers have always been simple, it’s the quest that determines our strength and persistence. It takes courage to remain loyal to yourself and avoid man-made distortions. Living in the Middle-east is uneasy and being a female who happened to be different makes it worse. Choosing to be true to yourself is SUICIDAL.

Over time everything changes. You get to learn that traditions are volatile. Self-discovery is essential, challenging society and questioning dogma are the noblest acts. Nevertheless, it is not an easy journey. The cattle will stand out to you, vilify and attack you. They will delude you to believe that there is no choice and that we are merely owned.  The path to enlightenment is loaded with thorns, but what is bliss if not for the struggle.

We rant and whine “Life is cruel” but life has disowned us long ago. Life is not to blame, it’s what we made out of life.

They established laws to mold societies and shape future. It is your choice, will you lose yourself to conformity or seize your liberty?

Limits are an illusion, our strength is infinite and freedom lies in resistance.

Don’t respect the status quo.

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Artwork by unknown artist.


PARADOX

I love full moon nights. I believe that myths about werewolves, witches, vampires, and whatever is connected to full moon have origins. When I was a child, I used to leave my  bed and wander in the balcony, longing to catch proof; an ounce of spark that would satisfy my vivid – almost realistic imagination. Ironically, I was a very skeptical child, I questioned anything and everything, too curious that I forced my parents to answer my questions bluntly & avoid me. However, when it comes to myths, what’s far and beyond the invisible, I was welling to reach horizon for facts. I never questioned that reality, I was just seeking origins.

I remember every-time I traveled with my family, I would sneak at nights, run to the beach and stare at the waves until sunrise. That’s only when I felt/feel alive. Something about the unknown attracts me, like unearthly magnet. I wonder if my humble existence is naturally attracted to this miraculous force – opposites attract anyway BUT not everyone is enchanted by that.

Now, as I am an official adult, I remain longing for the other realms. However, I discovered that on this insignificant chaotic planet there are also magical forces – invisible, terrifying, bittersweet, strong yet vulnerable….. Forces that can give you everything and take them back in an eye blink. Moments are the absolute definition of PARADOX, they could be boring, draining, long OR magical, short and euphoric. Sometimes I wonder if time travel or dancing through dimensions actually happens during these moments!

I feel that when time and love collide, the human definition of time becomes irrelevant. We simply transcend during few seconds that all the surroundings start to vanish smoothly until everything is blurred yet beautiful, a state of art where feelings takes a physical form and colors are felt not only seen. Time is no longer relevant, you think ten seconds pass in hours and days are not enough..

Exploring our Five senses become addictive, we want to try everything all over again. However, everything is new… Senses change to a spontaneous  uncontrollable power. Mind, body and soul unite and transforms to a new fresh being…

Restrictions, moral codes, man-made traditions vanishes in the process.

Full moon nights are indeed mythical – in my reality, masquerades fell, I got lost in time and space, and the unsaid erupted like rainbows.

That moment we were magic.

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On the Borders of my Mind.

It is ironic how a slight attack could change everything. It’s uneasy to explain or make feelings coherent. After all, borderline personality disorder comes with bits and pieces from everything else. Sometimes anxiety, unexplained fears, and the worst of all DEPRESSION. BPD comes with its baggage, as if, we, humans need more burdens! The world is hard itself, surviving is an act of courage in the 21st century, what’s the point behind having unseen monster that carves out holes on our fragile existence. And no matter how much you fight, monitor those thoughts and plead….. Nothing leaves.

I remember few years ago when I took a challenging decision to quit medications, I knew its going to be uneasy ride in my emotional circus. But, today I would do it all over again, I would take the very same decisions. Because it helped me, when I browse online forums and read what people are saying about their experiences, I wonder if that could be me OR I am just another spectrum. I read words that I am completely unfamiliar with “Co-dependence, manipulation, emotional abuse” and I wonder if I have ever been like that, I wonder if my father’s death shaped the different case of borderline I came across. I isolated myself from the world and wrapped myself in darkness to be safe, I managed to learn dealing with my volatile mood. I confess I mastered manipulation, a skill I learned as a reaction to those who truly deserve it, however, at some point in my life I was done. I despised seeing myself getting dragged in the path branded by manipulation, that wasn’t me. I had to escape.

I learned to put myself in everyone’s shoes regardless, to forgive and accept an apology I will NEVER get. After all, I didn’t want to see a corrupted image of myself and use BPD as my ultimate scapegoat.

Now, I look back and process how did the past 5 years pass in an eye blink, where I am today and the price I paid…. A very expensive price and I am not sure if anything in the world is worth losing human being in the process.

I look back knowing that I am 200% stronger, capable of handling my past and controlling my demons… I know that every episode will eventually pass, every heartache will go, and while soul-ache remains; I am certain that life is bittersweet.

I wish I can simply explain everything to the people who care, but I can’t or won’t. I have to fight this battle alone, I am not used to have someone under my skin, I won’t put my guards down, or share my darkest moments. I remember a friend said that I tend to use grand wording, because my feelings are quite huge. He didn’t know that he defined me, I am larger than life.

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Unknown artist


Melodies of myself…

– I still remember that day when words remained unsaid, when soul-aches pushed me apart like tornado, when my life changed and the roller-coaster ceased to define me. But I am fine… I can still swing in my personal opera, paint smiles out of sea waves, dance naked under the cold rain and breathe in silver moonlights.

Thoughts are like snakes tangling everything I am.  Reality is intertwined with fantasy. I can no longer recognize myself or my dreams or what I am longing for…. I am lifeless, numb and ruined. Feelings are so huge that I am unable to create a coherent statement or explain how I feel.  I wonder if tomorrow I can just vanish, disappear in existence like a forgotten feather that once witnessed remarkable moments and history through its flying journey.

But I am alive… I am alive even if surviving murders every ounce of my existence, I am alive even if memories are collection of razor blades torn my emotions, bleed and dance in my chaotic mind… my mind … my bitter sweet circus.

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Loving the Devil

A wise man told me once

Care what you wish for child…

I wanted chaos, circus and mere war

Passion equates the Helen of Troy

Mirror, Mirror – who am I?

Dear life, you are Diabolique in disguise

You are full of purity

But the monster hypnotized you

The irony, it is melancholic and true

For you who drowns him to you

For weakness, mesmerizes you two

Could you addict what you despise

Dancing with the devil surrendering in a glance

You are to be blamed

You admire the masquerades he claims

He can not break you

But you witnessed his falls

For he will struggle to

Posses

Destroy

And enjoy…

Wake up from your dreams

The sphere is not beautiful as it seems

Wake up and change the path

For the monster is Lucifer in disguise.

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Mohamed Mahmoud 2014. Chained and desperate.

This morning it took me forever to move from bed, I struggled with the seasonal mental circus to get myself ready.

“I have to get up and get ready to work, and afterwards I will head to Mohamed Mahmoud street memorial!”…….

Mohamed Mahmoud where I saw my dearest Ramy Al Sharkawy for the last time.

Mohamed Mahmoud where freedom fighters lost their eyes.

Mohamed Mahmoud massacre where I saw treason in it’s worst shape.

Mohamed Mahmoud where I learnt that weakness is a luxury and it’s not for us.

Mohamed Mahmoud where you imprison pain, fear, oppression and stand still.

Mohamed Mahmoud where speaking out “Down with military role, Down with Muslim Brotherhood” is met with live ammunition and internationally prohibited chemical gases.

Mohamed Mahmoud where there was no inch left without blood.

Mohamed Mahmoud where security forces fired at field hospitals.

Mohamed Mahmoud where we shared immortal scars.

Mohamed Mahmoud is when insomnia started, when I still struggle to get two continuous hours sleeping without bloody flashbacks. Where blood scenes haunt me regardless, haunts me during sleep, as soon as I walk nearby, as close as I get to a friend who was standing next to me in front lines. When getting dressed up, partying and writing cheerful words is nothing but a state of denial that fades away as soon as memories trigger.

I though that I am strong enough, but I am not, I miss the girl I used to be before the revolution and as much as I was irresponsible, plastic and careless, I could sleep!!

I am not strong, I am scared, devastated and desperate, and for that I am not myself anymore, I scream out, I wear masks and I do everything to convince myself of my inner strength. During the past years, I loved people and I hurt them back, I pushed away many fearful of the nightmare of losing anyone, My worst demons controlled me and ironically, I wasn’t weak, on the contrary, I was so egoistic, and so tough on myself in order to continue and stand still. I got disappointed, I was betrayed by every mean as all the hopes which came with the revolution are nothing but a parallel illusion.

I am sorry for those I hurt on the way, I am sorry that you crossed my chaotic path, I am sorry for not being able to keep being my truly self with you… I was scared for anyone to sense the deep craved insecurities.

It’s funny that from the outside my life is heading towards the right path, yet I remain struggling with flashbacks and the current state of the country, I FORGOT HAPPINESS, I am desperate of tasting an ounce of momentarily happiness but it’s not there anymore. Happiness is also a luxury.. Not for me, not for us.

I am tired of standing still, I am sick of facing my worst demons everyday, I am exhausted from racing in the same circle. I miss my father, I miss who I really am, I miss the days of the 25th of January, I miss my secret dilemma, my teenage dream that remains haunting me. I miss you!

Smile Rana— Smile IDEAS ARE IMMORTAL AND LIBERTY IS INEVITABLE.

Anonymous artist. Taken from Arab Press EU.

Anonymous artist. Taken from Arab Press EU.


Revolution went personal… So be it!

This is one of the few times I decide to confront myself with many issues that I choose to ignore, trying to be “positive”-trying to be the girl “I used to be”-the one who would move around making everyone smile, regardless of her own personal struggle. Honestly, at this point I could smoothly disconnect from my pain and enjoy every beautiful moment with my buddies.

Almost 4 years ago my life was completely different, quite simple. I was the same outgoing crazy eccentric girl,who was looking deeply in despair for a closure, but she could just shine and smile regardless, isolate her pain deeply, making it unseen. I went to the square and joined the crowd, I never thought that this experience would change everything I am-the way I look to humans, the way I accept universe. 

My mother advised me a lot that joining the protests is not good for my mental state, not to mention being close to death.. However, I thought I am finally doing something.. I have passion for a bigger cause, as if all the personal goals were stripped out of my mind. The world finally made sense, and through all these crazy events and clashes, BLOOD AND DEATH, I finally got my closure, the questions that was graved in my heart years ago, are finally answered. Ironically, at this time it didn’t seem as important as it seemed before, seeing his face and looking into his deep blue eyes didn’t ache as I thought it would, maybe, because I was actually getting ready to go to the streets and join a protest, my mind was occupied with tear gas and live ammunition that talking to him after 2 and half years of searching in despair didn’t make any difference. Eventually, I got to answer a question he asked before “Could I make it on my own?” my answer was “Hell yes!”

Having said all of that and without digging deeper in the days of the lost revolution, this morning I found out that revolution is certainly a personal event, I am not the same person I used to be, and I truly miss that cheerful shiny girl and through my continuous trials to get her back, I end up stuck between the girl before January 25th 2011, and the girl I am today. My desires and aspirations remain the same on a personal level, but what happens everyday on a universal level makes me uncertain that anything can ever go right. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and cease every moment I had.. I wish it was easier to accept and believe that man-made traditions, religions and borders would eventually put as apart. I come to confess that your insecure dilemma is not different from mine.

To believe that being perfectionist is another mental struggle, to believe that going on and off from craziness don’t help. To accept that I will never be the same girl I used to be, and how can I after all these flashbacks of blood shed, betrayal and violence. Maybe I should let go of our secret shame, maybe I should relax and say “it’s OK” other than destroying myself. As I am writing this vague stories, I know you will only understand and relate, and we will remain silent. 

“This is the end, behind the corner he is watching solely, breathing her well being like a loath of the purest oxygen. On her land she still longs for a girl she used to be, connected to their memories and lost in their presence, not only for love but for when she was truly herself.” 

It’s endless secret addiction. 

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