A summary

Orphaned

Abandoned 

Used

Abused

Disregarded

Attacked

Deserted

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

I am not crazy, you are

Whomever is going through life and witnessing all that is happening in the world at large at the moment and haven't lost their mind, they themselves are the crazy ones. I am not crazy. 

the level of awareness I have and with my eyes wide open, heart and soul on point, it's very testing and quite a challenge having to do the survival things, and focus on the small picture, and the distracting day to day actions. Everyone's distracted, so many distractions. They glorify their gain in the system, well done you, what a genius, devil approved for sure, keep selling your soul away. Don't you bother attempt deciphering what is what, keep watching the news, keep taking sides, keep sharing stories and posts, keep calculating the good deeds, that should get you to Heaven for sure. 

All the ranting aside, I really must work, I need to make money. I don't know how to move from here when the only thing I've managed to do effortlessly for the past year is to write. Everything else has been forced and a real struggle. I can't keep on being the violinist in the sinking titanic. I got to help out, scream, shout, attend to someone, do something! I can't go on with my life as though nothing is happening or is going to happen, and get busy with a business or an art fair, or a stupid social media account, and handle ignorant customers. I need for my art to speak for me, I lack the courage to write and make / sell what I truly wish to share. I'm torn between the pressing need to share my art and allow creativity to flow through me and out, and wanting to be left totally alone, not be seen, not get exposed to the mass. 

There are a lot of daring thoughts and daring words and daring art projects in mind that need to come out of me, but I don't think I can handle the attention. I wish to do all of that without it been linked to me, I don't want people, period. This is a mixture of childhood trauma and deep rooted insecurity in a crowd, and a true knowing that such work would give people even more reasons to get in touch with me which I don't wish to attract or allow. I see through all people's bullshit, though I can't communicate with them on their high level of absurdity and superficiality!

I am wanting to write the book, I have never felt more ready, there are many different approaches to doing it, I've been brainstorming, and I can't decide on or settle for only just one style. The blog can be easily deleted by google any time, I want something printed, a tangible work, that should become my biggest craft. Something I can and people could hold with their hands. I don't only just have one book idea, there are several books in me. 

I am thinking about Chris a lot lately, he's crossing my mind frequently. I wonder if that's him thinking about me and me picking it up. It happens often that I get that from people. It was the anniversary of our first meeting not so long ago anyway, this is the time of the year when everything is so alive and sentimental. On 10th October 2010 I saw him for the very first time, when he came to spend a week with me, after having been very close online friends for a year and a half, and after expressing his feelings for me, and I reciprocating it. That day was the official start of our journey together. I don't think I ever loved anyone more than I did Chris.  

My mind is very erratic because of all of the bad stuff I binged on yesterday. I got to stop, there isn't much time left now for my stupid emotional eating. Better shape up and stay alert and on guard. Also, create and keep creating, the only way I could tolerate this living and make sense of it. Through my own creation, to counteract all the evil, hallow, and shallow energy sucking contents created in the world every split of a second.

Perhaps at least then I would be able to say I did my part. 

Perhaps then, I would have indeed turned the page. 

And detached, 

so I can ascend, 

ready for the end.

Hopes and wishes

I have been inside for a week, but I went out yesterday. I needed to get something from the phone shop near us, but I went to the farther away one to force a walk. When I was done and as I was leaving the shop, I spotted a bus coming our way, it had number 15 on. I remembered from back in the days that this used to be the one that goes to the seaside. I crossed to the other side of the road, and hopped on in it. I handed out a 100.000 L.L. note, having no idea what the tariff is these days. The driver handed me back 30.000 L.L. so 70.000 L.L. then, the equivalent of 1.000 L.L. back in the days. I am still not able to fathom most changes, this was another one to try to grasp. I asked the driver how are the people making do. He started opening up about the days and his own effort to make change. He told me that he wasn't a driver by trade, that he was a homeopathic doctor. He told me about his repeated efforts with a small group to try and get his natural immunity herbal "vaccine" to the people through the health municipality, to no avail. I was interested in the conversation, but then I had to get off his bus, he was finished for the day, so I had to exchange buses. I took another 15 bus right where we stopped at the Dora roundabout. I asked this driver about the time the last bus heads back from the Manara area these days, I was considering staying there for a little walk on the promenade, the weather was beautiful, and it was just before sunset. He said around 8:00 - 8:30, it was still 5:50, so I thought I might have gotten myself a plan. A spontaneous little outing, a break from home and the tiny space, and a solace for my weary mind through exposure to all sorts of stimulants. We left the roundabout immediately, the driving pace was way too slow though, but I enjoyed it. I was looking out the window, taking everything in; the roads, the people, the cars, the walker-boy's. Many changes noticed, but also many things remained the same. There was no escaping the memories and flash backs, my days with Yasmina and Chris in the city have simply been so many... 

The heaviness I used to see in people's faces and their bodies back in the days from system enslavement is the same now. But I was curious to learn more, considering all the happenings of late, and the bus rides provides exactly that kind of "info". Various people from different ages and backgrounds hopping on and off so frequently, engaging in all sorts of small talk with the drivers and the other passengers. Some of them know each other, many total strangers, but they speak away all the same. They don't just converse for the sake of filling up space, they do it as though it's the air they rely on for their survival. Perhaps it's the talking that's keeping these people holding on and pushing through. Expressing themselves, being heard and received, and their agony, humor, or worry reciprocated. There used to be a middle class back in the days, now only the privileged and the unprivileged. I belong to the latter category now, like the majority of the bus users, minus the privilege of belonging to any social group at all, or the luxury of genuine connection. Still I was filled with gratitude, for I haven't become a system slave (yet), I was still overriding the matrix, and I still kept my freedom, despite all. I was still feeling heavy with the inner turmoils I was carrying, but being around total strangers inside a moving vehicle in Beirut streets did make me feel somewhat at peace, and a little bit less lonely.

By the time we got to the beautiful spot I usually like to start my walking, I had already taken the whole scene in, as the driving was way too slow with many stops. I think they try to save petrol and wait for new passengers, also keep to their timely schedule. I thought I would just stay inside the bus and head back home in the same one, for by then I felt like I've gotten the exposure I wanted to get from the promenade. I also had my flip flops on which wouldn't have been practical for a walk. But I was checking all the spots and the areas I usually enjoy during my walk, where I would usually speed up, where I would slow down, and where I sit on the bench for a break or after I'm done. It has all remained the same except for few new benches that were put up. I took note of everything and I made plans for a proper jog in the near future, I thought that perhaps I could bring my jogging days back. I would do with open spaces and steady healthy movement. I just missed Yasmina and Chris so much, there has been way too many memories of us there, starting off with the Yasmina's bike rides when she was as little as 3 years old, just her and I, and later on, the many walks and talks, and after then, Chris joining the tribe. The same with the beach at Ramlet El Bayda, Chris's birthdays, and that special one when I took us to Baalbeck in the morning, and back to the beach in the afternoon to cut the cake, it was what he used to love. Yasmina's piggy bank rides, Chris's trouble with the wet sand on his feet, their excitement, Yasmina's goofiness, my love. My love... 

My heart used to be so swollen with so much love and gratitude, I used to feel like I had owned the whole world. There was nothing I needed outside of us and our small little, simple, private life together. With our preferences and small / big enjoyments, ambitions and dreams. 

Once I make the walk again there on my own, I would have turned another page. It is now due, and much more, for some healing progress, but one step at a time. I'm almost continuously overwhelmed since I was back to the city. 

On the way back, we were stopped in Dekwaneh by a group of people who were protesting earlier against Israel and the current war. About 10 people or more hopped on, all wearing the Palestenian scarf, some white and black, some red and black, and carrying the flags... They weren't the ordinary unprivileged people you'd expect, those were the so called "educated", NGO, privileged, identity confused, typical phoney and fake Lebanese people that I detested. 

I got off the bus 3 minutes later thankfully, at the supermarket close by, I bought some fruits and headed back home. It was night time by then and relatively quiet, I couldn't have asked for more. 

I've been listening to The Cranberries lately, I always wanted to discover their songs, but there just hasn't been a right moment, until recently. Many of their songs hit home. Goose bumps action is on point this morning as I listen to their Ode To My Family, Zombie, and Dreams... 

I finally managed to get avocado's! How can a fruit (vegetable) carry so much emotional weight is beyond me. But that's just how I am, sentimental and stupid. I had missed Yasmina so much that I couldn't bring myself to eat avocados without her. Last time we were having them was in spring time when she was still visiting me in Fanar and sometimes staying over. I would get her to buy me some ripe ones with her as the shops close by almost never had them. Our many memories over the years, season in season out, making, eating, and salivating over our favorite avocado rice dishes, avocado toasts, avocado smoothies, avodado, banana and honey, her famous green mushed avocado rice, my favorite cane sugar avocado scooping....

It's going to be another new page turned as I eat my first avocado in a while later today. I'm sick, so very sick. 

It's a stormy day, I hope the rain washes away more pain. I hope I the thunder does some kind of magic getting me out of my stupid sentimentality. 

After all that has been said and done, there's nothing left now but hopes and wishes!... 

A reversing act

Here comes Autumn with its mushiness effect. I am feeling so mushy and mallow and soffffft. What is it about this time of the year that makes me crave cigarettes though I'm a non-smoker. I am longing for nesting, I am having cravings. What is it about the mild cool whether that makes me feel so ultimately at peace. Today I am excited about the words that are yet to be born, potential words that might potentially come out of the mouths of some potentially cool people. That mind of mine is always wanting to escape me, I am holding the reigns now, I keep pulling at it every time it wants to go its own way. I can't lose it again, I gotta be in charge, keep at it, this taming thing, teaching it new ways, re-wiring, re-programming. All the horrendous things our mothers did to our brains, all the horrible things they allowed. As I was drifting to sleep last night I remembered the mentioning of that one particular medicine I once heard some family members talk about it been given repeatedly to my brother Aref and cousin Athar as infants. They did it to force them to sleep. It must have been inconveniencing to them mothers, having crying babies! Both of them are super sensitive, gentle, soft and nice people. Could you imagine what could have been happening for them to cry so hard? Could you imagine what happened to their system and brains as babies taking medicine that is almost against the law to prescribe for infants. Both of these beautiful people have lived a hard life and suffered due to their soft side, but also their mind. As I was contemplating and recalling some memories, it hit me that, knowing clearly from talks and retelling of past events, that I myself was an extremely sensitive baby, and I would cry a lot, never allowing anyone to touch me save from my close family. You don't think they gave me this medicine? Hell yeah, and other things too. It isn't just the emotional trauma that has left its marks on my brain, but also the shit they put in our system. Not to mention the terrible diet! I spent a big chunk of my life as an infant and child in the hospitals, I had heart problems. Have you any idea how bad these must've affected me? I do. I am horrified to even go there mentally. For now, I will just try to mother myself, give myself the loving, care, and nurturing that I need. I dug several of my journals yesterday, one of them I haven't touched since last year, it's titled The Book of Self-mothering. It's a part of several healing note books I have started in the recent years. Recognizing what could have been or is going wrong with someone's life is one thing, actually receiving what is needed, is something else altogether. What I am trying to do lately, is fooling my mind. Yes, because I've got nothing else to offer. If it's been fooled long enough to believe it's limited, worthless, unnecessary, waste of space, sure it can be fooled to believe it's loved, worthy, cherished, needed, desired, safe? In any case, I got nothing to lose at this stage. Perhaps I am meant to live another 42 years like I often thought, I will only be reversing the damage done during those 42 years. Perhaps I will die at 84, having dissolved the damage done from this society, and the people, and the system, and all the thread pulling evil shits and their control. I'll be then free truly, with a neat, tidy, and clear ending, just the way I like it. 

Today in the morning in bed before I got up, I imagined being embraced by a huge man with a dark, soft skin and mysterious, loving eyes. I laid my upper body against his abdomen, he rocked and swayed me right and left, back and forth, as he rested his chin on my head, and hummed for me. He sung me lullabies and caressed my palms gently. He sniffed my hair and breathed me in. He said a heartfelt Ahhhh every time he exhaled. His deep voice vibrated through my whole body and being. Every time I wanted to get up to get working, making and doing, he would pull me back to bed, tells me I am safe and looked after, and that I don't need to worry myself with any action or doing anymore. That I am only to get busy when I feel like creating for the sake of self expression. He told me that he'd look after sorting the creations out for me himself, to be received in the world through him. He assured me that I don't have to worry about dealing with people anymore, or their world, nor intercepting their words, or handling their money. 

I've been glancing at the mirror in front of me every now and then as I was typing away. I spotted the new changes to my face recently, aging is showing, new grew hairs I haven't noticed before, sagging here and there, weight loss and weight gain. I like how the skin looks like it's giving up, no more stretching and pulling, it just lets itself hang now. And the freckles, so many of them, new ones too, although I hardly got proper sun exposure this whole year. I long for the day when my body on the inside does the same as my skin; it drops the weight, lets go of the fat and stops holding on, pulling and stretching to keep things together. It recognizes that none of it is needed anymore, the puffing, the preserving... It disconnects itself from the old distorted mind programs. 

To let go fully, to have that special someone massage all the nooks and crannies in my body, all the tense parts of me, to squeeze fear and pain out of me. One day at a time, one loving session at a time, one moment at a time, in a sea of what seems to be endless moments...

I will do the same for his body, which will be skinny and saggy all over towards the end of our journey. 

And I would love every bit of it, 

and our beautiful shared moments, 

in this horrid ugly simulated existence.

We would occasionally say to each other, and perhaps at the start of the journey more so than towards the end...

Let's reverse the shit out of this, baby! 

(Amen)

Trauma mama and charm immunity

The eclipse came and went, the storm came and went, the rain came and stayed, and I am happy, I am. It's the first time in a while, but another miracle happened; I am remembering who I am, and how I did my magic, all those decades past, keeping aloof while everything and everyone busy pulling me down. Perhaps what the eclipses of last Autumn started would end by this eclipse season. I am remembering my pre-revolution, pre-moves, pre-corona, pre-lockdowns, pre-explosion, pre-business collapse, pre-heartbreak self... and dare I say, it feels unfamiliarly safe, and warm.  

It doesn't matter what walls are keeping me, whose ceilings I'm under, what building, what street, which neighborhood. It doesn't matter who does what to me, or whom says what about me, or around me. I am remembering how to regulate the chemicals in my brain all naturally, I am remembering how to work around the corruptions, the deceptions, the mischiefs. I am remembering how to shield myself against the manipulations, the distortions, the inversions. I'm recalling how to spot the aversions!

It's raining and it's beautiful, cleansing and cleaning. I am grateful for another miracle, for connecting, for ascending, for detaching, for the remembrance.

42 years in this existence madness, but I made it, every time, through every single cycle, one way or another. I just had to recall the untainted, pure, home space I used to embody. The heavenly, safe, Godly bubble I contained myself / used to be contained in. And I did, and I am. 

I spent the weekend doing the small things that make me happy; cooking, baking, listening and moving to music, comforting old songs, exciting new songs. Taking photos, dry skies and wet skies, the sunsets and the sunshine on my little things, new nail polish color, new / old ways of thinking. I contemplated on the longing I have in me, I didn't push it away, I sat with it. 

I had many interactions with different men and friends, I kept watchful of any exchange that brought me down. I got many invitations to coffee and lunches and dinners. None got me excited, I declined them all. I kept attentive and protective of my mind and heart, and physical space, it paid off. I sat with the needing and desiring, I can't settle for things anymore, the price has been too steep every time I did that in the past. I am connecting with myself truly, and remembering too, how to love myself. That famous flood of loving energy I'm known of, well I keep solely to myself nowadays. I only just need to re-wire my non-receiving self in a way to start receiving, so I can bask in it.

I dwelt on the trauma stuck in me, of not having being loved by mother, and having grown without directions, guidance, or any sense of self or self preserving concept. All the messed up situations it got me in, all the troubles, all the pain. I focused on where the trauma resides in my system, I brought attention to all parts of me that act out from lack of - and ultimate and desperate need for - nurturing. Also the aspect of me that excessively needs to do things on my own, recognising where and how I actually need - and can only thrive on - the other, through receiving, sharing, co-existing...

I am teaching myself how not to attach to people who trigger in me the same kind of response, emotions, and actions as my narcissistic mother did. I am wanting to break the old sickly patterns. I am learning how to keep my emphatic side to myself, nurturing and nourishing me, instead of others in the desperate hope of acceptance and love. I am stopping my past traumas from acting out in my present life.

I came up with a new useful tool in that aspect, I don't keep numbers of most people anymore - except work and family or convenience / logistics contacts - to stop myself from reaching out, needlessly. Whenever they themselves reach out, I ponder upon whether they put enough effort, and whether or not they're genuine and caring / giving in their approach, to consider reciprocating. When I spot out their typical self-centeredness, I disengage. I don't say much, I just don't interact or answer to silly, lazy, low effor, and hallow words anymore. 

My politeness and gentleness has got me only so far! I am keeping space and remain open for the opposite, if at all it happens. Otherwise, I shall guard myself, like never before. Very occasionally I would block a person, but I did a few recently. Those are the ones who would go on ignoring all my boundaries after having, clearly, directly, and often repeatedly stated them, what I want or do not want, my desires and needs too. These are the vampire idiots usually relying solely on my good-heartedness and softness to get their own ways with their usual charm. Eventually, there won't remain any of these interactions, and I shall be forgotten as the naiive and exceptionally soft and easy trauma mama.  

I sure am learning and have learned quite a bit about myself and people in the recent years. Now it's putting things to practice time.

The more I practice blocking out what I do not desire to have in my life, the more blessings I will welcome in, just like in the good old days, simple and straight to the point. 

Only the longings will nag at me, and I'm learning how to be with them instead of attempting anything to escape them. I am also remembering how beautiful it used to be, the longing itself, for its a clear and loud sign of this human experience. And I am indeed fully here, just like I know I am going to be fully there, once I exit this realm...

This remembrance itself is the current manifested miracle,

and aren't I grateful! 

Indeed I am.

Oh well

Heed the call, if you must

If I manage to detach myself from the place, if I manage to get some cash on me, I would love to live like a nomad, with only just myself, few belongings that I need for living, and my writing pad!

If I manage to turn things around and have life work with me, not against me, I'll gain my wisdom of past, and get in touch with my core again, my passion, my true calling. 

If I manage to detach from the pain and leave behind, outgrow it, shed it like an old skin, I will remember who I once was. 

People kept asking me about Travelling since the start of the whole madness 4 years ago, and I kept saying, I want to stay. Different men invited me over to their different places in different countries and I always declined. I had no intention in Travelling whatsoever. I still don't, but there's this itching, life calling, detaching from everything that is backwards and hindering and all setbacks.

I miss freedom like a very old friend whom I thought I forgot but the mention of him visiting revives all that's been buried, and then I see him as though we never parted. 

I'm a gypsy, but I stayed put for so long, in order to grow roots, in the home, for the child that needed containing. Now that she's long gone, will I remember who I once once before all the nesting was due?!

Perhaps this is what's needed now, even less bounds to the place, less things, less weights. Free, light, and roaming. Perhaps then the art will flow again. Through change, variety, constant move. Like the olden days... Like my young and wild self.

Will I get the courage of old again? I do not know for now, but I know what isn't working...

Ill give this and myself more time, to adjust and reroot, if it's meant to be. 

If not, the roads are calling. 

Despite the madness, 

The world chaos, 

And the absence of any security on any piece of land. 

But if it's my spirit's calling,

I must heed the call, 

For what's the point of this existence otherwise.

(Either that, or I'm just losing my mind, in a different format now.)

Quiet!

I was totally oblivious to the horrors happening in the weekend past until Tuesday afternoon. The irony of posting the Spirals post on that specific day... What timing! There is no escape, I went back to square one again. I've been bed ridden since Wednesday, extreme fatigue, and excruciating pain in my neck, and shoulders. I'm so stiff, I could hardly move. I bought myself the cheapest drug to numb myself: bread and cheese. I can't tolerate either, and so I've clogged and blocked my system! needed moments of not feeling things anymore. Too much suffering in the world, madness, chaos, and unconsciousness! I'm at my wits' end. 

There was no visiting the Municipality, no sorting out of the pressing ceiling and walls problem; they're closed, until further notice! The committee in the building couldn't care less, neither does my dear neighbouring sister. What more can this weary mind and ultimately wrecked body take?! A responsibility of one more matter faltering on my guard?! My inability of rescuing it might be the last push for me to totally lose it, I can't have another failure, I'm barely holding on lately. 

I decided that if I remove myself from the place, though I had settled to stay, for a very, very long time - then perhaps I would have less things to worry about. If I could only detach from it, not consider it my own, maybe. I need to only just worry about myself for now, for a while anyway, my mind, my body, my work! I haven't managed to work in months on end. I need to earn my keep!!! But if I detach, then perhaps I would feel lighter and I would have more energy to spare on myself. Because, seriously, I am not doing well... I am so tired from not doing well for so long at this stage. 

And then, there comes the war, and it's getting closer and closer. Everything is closing up on me, I feel suffocated, but it won't end just yet. And I can't see people, I am not feeling stable at all. But I need to see people, because I am losing it on my own. 

Perhaps I use this as a stepping stone instead of the forever home. Perhaps this is a transition. I need to latch on to something though, anything at all, to keep me going. I am not able to get to my workbench at all. I'm frozen! 

Perhaps I could write for a living. 

If only there was an Exit push button. 

I am just wishing and waiting for the rain now, plenty of it, storms too, where people would get locked in. So I could enjoy for a while at least a bit of silence and quiet. I'm unable to think, I'm unable to function, the city is overbearing. I can't be doing this to myself agaig; looking for an ultimate place, an ultimate space... I am only just running away from my pain. I need soothing, I need people. No, I need special connections, intimacy, quiet moments, touch, whispers, gentle sayings, and kind doings. This place is fucking up with my mind again. I am missing Chris so much, and perhaps it is the memories I have of him in every corner here, perhaps I am in touch with my very deep and supressed need for companionship, and this place and the times now are just bringing these up to the surface. I am feeling lonely, for the first time, in a very long time. Truly lonely, not in need for noise and fillers, only just for true, close connection, and intimate interactions. And knowing... I miss being seen and known. I am tired from my monologues, falling in love with people's very details, knowing them inside out, their glorious aspects, their darkest sides and imperfections too, loving all of them, writing about and dwelling on them. I am tired from the one sidedness, I spent one long life doing that. I am tired, if it's going to end now, let me try to do it on a high note. Let me enjoy the embrace of someone's passion and tenderness. 

I bled like crazy this week, I shall stop soon, perhaps tomorrow, with the eclipse. I am not looking forward to that eclipse, nor the one after that, most especially not that other one. But I keep going, perhaps it lasts only for a short while now, but maybe too for some other 42 years!

Oh God if I could shut this mind, shut this system for a while. 

Quiet please, 

please....

please. 

A baby is born

My new monstera deliciosa leaf. 💚

No fenestration on this one whatsoever. 

She also grew quite so tall before unfurling, 

and it all happened so fast.

Spirals

Calm after the storm, at long last. 

I finally started to feel at home, having placed absolutely everything in their designated space. There's a little room for breathing now, stretching and dancing too, I'm grateful. I slept early, woke up early, had a good start of the week, that was yesterday. Come night time, and after already having winded down, I started to get alert again by midnight. I watched a movie, then I spent nearly two hours listening to different audios I've recorded of old "friends" on my phone. I laughed and cried... Oh how much has changed and how much has remained the same, in those years past! 

I'm on a Woody Allen movies watching spree, some I feel like re-watching, others I have discover. I haven't been able to bring myself to see anything in a long time, only just a specific kind of news and content. But I needed to look after my mind, I needed to balance those chemicals. I needed more types of Art, I needed to bring movies back to my life, for a certain kind of therapy. I started off by watching a movie I had on my to watch list for years, not being able to bring myself to watch it until just now. Mother, 2017. What a movie! I'm proud of myself having brought myself to see it all, and sit with all the pain it has triggered. But it wasn't just Mother, I was triggered by every character I saw on the screen, I related to them. Was it a mere coincidence, was I too emotional, or is it true that I have all these aspects in me and sides to me that I see a representation of in my favorite movies and favorite characters. In Husbands and Wives, I was Rain, Sally, and Judy! I am Mother in Mother. I am Truman in Truman Show. I am Annie Hall in Annie Hall, Alvy too... 

I thought I wanted an escape from myself and my own emotions, thoughts and feelings. I went to the movies, but then they brought more of that into the screen. There is no escaping this human existence, it's everywhere I go, I just need to find a way to organize things in my head about it. Come to think of it, now that we're close to the time it all happened last year, I have indeed lost my mind. 

I'm going to have to find new / old ways of putting things in their designated space, just like in the tangible world, like the physical home. My home is in chaos, time to start organizing and compartmentalising. 

Water the plants too, while I'm at it... 

A year ago, after an episode of indulging myself with pleasures, I went cold turkey, to balance things out. There has never been a middle ground for me. I always had a huge problem doing life, there has been only just extremes of pain, or pleasure. Pain was OK, I knew it inside out, and it me, but pleasure always came with a high price that I was almost never OK to pay. My spirit called for presence, and so I always had to heed the call. Pleasure was often too worldly, often time underworldly, when it involved people. Pleasure almost always involved people... Also addictions, food, and food addictions, and addiction to people. This paragraph here sums up all of my life, and this entire blog. 

A year ago, I said no, to addictions, people, over indulgences, escapes, and I wanted to tidy up and clear things in my head. Instead, I brought total drought. I wanted to keep to the simple things, and the basics. Home was it, Home was all that was needed, and she has been a big part of it, for so long. But she decided she wanted out, then at there, at my most vulnerable and sensitive time, she decided to withdraw. 

I had been suffering the withdrawals since... 

In one of my pleas I told them, straight and direct, I am losing my mind. 
In one of my pleas, I told them I was having a nervous breakdown. 
In many of my pleas, I begged them to go easy on me, my mind, my heart... 

They went to waste, 
I went to taste... 

But here I am, putting myself together, one piece at a time, moment by moment, as I recall how to do so, without the underworld interacting with my every step. For though the pain has been so very intense, but so was ascending... 

Today, Benjamin Clementine is my salve, and boost of feel good chemicals. 

It's OK to indulge myself in his soulful music, and my eyes with his beauty and grace. 

Later in this week, I will meet Mogdad. It's been 7 months since our last meeting. This isn't a new cicle, this is a different level of the spiral. 

The song playing now in the background is Last Movement of Hope, it has no lyrics. 

I love Benjamin to bits. 

and I am grateful...

Endgame

No coffee today, I'm back to my herbal teas. There isn't much time left for new addictions. I need to rise again, stop the city and the noise from getting to me. A lot is happening, I ought to tune in, fine tune, and adjust accordingly. My inner world and problems shan't be a hindrance. 

I missed the clear air again. It seems that between 7:30 and 9:30 the air is the most polluted and heavy, from excessive cars activity and whatnot. I didn't bother open the windows, the AC for few minutes will suffice for now. I'll open them again in few hours when it's clear(er). 

There isn't much time left for the pain and the crying over the past. There is no use for the worrying about the future. The endgame is here, we go home after a long day at school (work) / in (prison cell) / life. We shall leave all that has happened there, there. We won't need any of it at Home. All lessons learned, hard and against (the human) nature as it might have been, needed or completely un-necessary as it has been. 

It has indeed been so long, so much so, intricate and intertwined too, that it messed with our mind, we took it for a (forced) forever home. How wrong we've been! 

Now try to decipher and discern, clear out, downsize, minimilize, focus, sharpen up, and stay alert. 

Ready. 

Get set. 

Go! 

Just another day

I'm not up early as I'd ideally liked. There is too much noise already, and though it rained few hours ago, the air is very heavy with city debris. The infamous yellow band over Beirut can be spotted at this early hour of the day already. I had a random playlist from the suggestions on Soundcloud playing as I preparing my coffee, a cool one popped up; Michael Jackson's Smooth Criminal's cover on Oud with frame drum. I smiled.. I don't need the coffee, I just happen to want it lately, it's going to be another fad and I will quit it again. Oral fixation is a real thing, I've been fighting my binge / emotional eating badly lately, it's activated again, I will curb it in due time, when I have the strength again. One battle at a time, I can't possibly fight and win them all simultaneously. Yesterday I had to speak to stupid neighbours and family members. At this stage in life, nobody gives a fuck about anyone or anything anymore. It's extremely hard to communicate when boundaries have been broken too, meaning we can't even stick to politeness and distance when there are disagreements - which is always the case lately. So enmeshement, agression, hostility, apathy... you name it. Yet, things are very interconnected, when it comes to survival, services, utilities, etc. I am so tired, I cry myself to sleep at night, it's the only way I can release it all off me so I can reset for another new day. 

I read through few of the older posts recently, and I got so frustrated at my bad English and all the mistakes, but I didn't bother change anything. For now, I shall just use this tool freely as I have intended for it to be used, I shan't worry about imperfections and things that could be fine tuned. I am just hanging on to anything for now, and this space here, is keeping me going, one way or another... 

I also need to put myself together again after all that has happened in my life up to this moment, most especially the last 10 months. I need to look after my mind, I need to mend my heart. Writing seems to be the excellent exercice for my mind, and a breather for my aching heart. Through writing I also get to touch base with my spirit, making sure all is in harmony, nothing has strayed away. It's OK to suffer, it's not OK to falter... 

It's been 30 years since I started journaling, I wrote a poem, about a crush I had on a man, it was a very smart and beautiful poem (for my age then anyway). I remember sharing it proudly with few friends then. There was this rush of intense emotions, feelings, insights, I used to have, and the flood of love I felt within was so big I used to have a very pressing urge to talk about it and to share it, to make it known, felt too, by others. Not much has changed in this department in 30 years, if anything, I just miss my short story writing self, I used to do that when I was only 7 or 8 years old. Come to think of it now, I was a genius, but since it takes a genius to recognise one, I went on all that time being unrecognized. But thanks to my consciousness and awareness, I seem to be doing OK for a woman in my age and my lifestyle / history. If I see me, this is all that is needed. And I do indeed, I love myself, I cherish my own company, I enjoy my own creations and ways of expressions. I am only a channel, I let it all come through me and out... what beautiful existence this is, if only it hasn't been so tempered with! I also always miss home, and I feel the closest to it when I am creating and self expressing...

I don't feel most inspired today, I had an awkward start of the day. I will leave it here, hoping to make progress in my work station, and hopefully rest, and maybe have my favorite after the rain walk. 

Sobering up from the move

It's been almost five weeks now. The rain came and went, then came again. I am sitting in my writing corner, same as it has been for so many years before, except, a lot has changed now. I did the ritual of smudging and burning incense yesterday around sunset, like the good old days. I said little prayers, the place and my body could do with loving thoughts and kind actions. I am looking out through the terrace door in the same old fashion, I have the door a little open so I could get the cold morning breeze and savor the petrichor. It's still quite wet outside, the city needed the washing for sure. One difference is clear though, I am finding it very hard to bring myself to "enjoy" anything at all. These small things used to bring content and joy to my heart, nowadays, I am continuously occupied and worried. Last thing I now have on my plate is the ceiling cracking problem. I have to go tomorrow to the municipality building and ask for an architect to come and inspect the building and the problem for us. It needs to be done by two people from the building, so unfortunately, I have to take a neighbour with me, and the one that I detest the most offered to join! It is yet again somebody else's fault, and I have to, yet again, pick up the crap! Daughter didn't bother herself report the problem to me when it happened in the recent months, nor sister to tell me about the big problems that the neighbours had faced in their places because of the big building's water tank above my roof, and its dreadful effect on some apartments, or to bother inspect our place here. After all, there isn't much to show off about doing the right, decent, and honorable action... I couldn't detest loud people more, and they're everywhere now, in all places, doing all sorts of loud, hollow actions, and I just won't start on the loud, hollow words department! I need and miss the quiet existence inside my own safe little world. But until then, I gotta make sure I have an actual safe, non-cracking ceiling, and walls! 

Who would have thought that after all I have been through this year, I have to go through something such as this, with all what I had to deal with in this place alone thus far! But then again, these are the days, no time for complaining. I will only pause a little, sometime, some mornings, and vent a little, when it's possible. If some words, with a coffee, on a random morning is all I get once in a while, I will take the opportunity, gladly. I'm grateful for everything though, I am free after all, I couldn't have asked for more. Freedom has always come with a very high price, and I was always happy to pay it, and nowadays, well yes Sir, now more so than ever before, most especially because the going got tough! I got to keep going...

There's a pressing need for human connection though, and without that, I'm afraid havoc wreaks over my brain and system. I keep giving people chances, and they keep fucking me around. It's not intentional, they're just totally absent-minded, and have become soul-less. I cry often, it helps a little, and I pray, frequently. 

I do miss the birds for sure, but I sighted different birds at different times getting curious about my existence, so there is hope. Perhaps I'll get a bird feeder, give my bitter sister downstairs a reason more to resent me. Did I mention daughter lives with her now, and her boyfriend? They're a happy family! Everyone got what they needed.  Sister can now pretend she has the full life she always wanted, sickly!... But then the same can be said about both her patehtic, deranged boyfriend, and my poor ego tripping, lost daughter.

Ara says, "some people choose to eat crap over going hungry". Now I know exactly what he means by that. I miss him, it's been 6 or 7 years since we last met in person, he came to say goodbye to us here then, at this very place. But we talk very often, if not at these most strange and hardest times, then when. He's my only friend, in fact, friend is a small word for him. He is and has been much more than that. I say little gratitude prayers for his constant - though not physical - presence in my life. 

I am tired and drained not just because I have been going non-stop physically for the last almost 2 and half months, but because I haven't been able to sit down and get creative since. Body and mind have been constantly preoccupied with things related to survival of very pressing nature. I usually struggle the most when I don't get to be creative / productive. But it's happening soon hopefully, yesterday I re-arranged the places of things once again. I now have settled for the identical setup that I used to have at the very start, 15 years ago. Back then I had returned with daughter from England for good, and after spending few months with my sister at her place, and almost losing my mind, I decided to move us, myself and Yasmina, up here to start our life anew. She had her room, and I had mine; one room fits all: my floor bed, my couch, my work station, my writing station. This also happens to be close to the time I got starting on the jewelry making journey, it was in Autumn 2008 when she started kindergarten, and I had found myself alone with some free time at hand for the first time in over 3 years then since she was born. And now, 15 years later, I'm alone with time on my hand, again, and I must venture and expand. 19 years in the making, I am fully and officially being released from my motherhood duty. I do not know where the road will take me, I just hope my aching heart would start healing, so I could set my spirit free again.

I still love waking up early, and in the city most especially, considering the (noise) pollution, now it's important that I stick to this routine, more so than ever. My ears haven't gotten used to the sounds yet, it's going to take me much longer than I thought, and I haven't been sleeping well or enough, napping is almost impossible too. Eventually, I will feel at home again, one day out of the blue. On another note, I've been going frequently to the stores, I did a couple of trips for work as well not just groceries, getting myself accustomed to things again, reminding myself of my old ways, the faces, the shops. I'm quite rusty, both physically and mentally, but at least, it's a start. A lot has changed, but a lot has remained the same too.

Big part of me striving on creativity has caused me to go totally blocked, stagnant, and eventually in so much pain, because of the tools that went extinct over the last 5 years, slowly but surely. What is an artist without tools after all!?! Whatever I have ever managed to achieve in the past, when it comes to success in business, was thanks to my creativity, grit, but mostly, tools! The banks, the shipping options, the access to abroad market, the access to local markets, the mobility, the exposure, the cash flow. Without these, which I started to lose bit by bit starting autumn of 2018, I couldn't achieve much. Earning my keep solely is the last of it, whatever right I was doing in that department all those years past - against all odds, was derived from my creativity and excitement in finding ways, loop holes, and solutions for the messed up, limited, and crippled system in this country and my own peculiar social situation. These days, I am trying to remind myself of that aspect of me, because although I seriously need to get back to the flow of things, I mean although I don't pay rent now, I still have bills to pay and food to bring to the table, still, the survival motive alone could never bring me to the state of mind / being I used to be at when I made it work for me in the past. I did it time and again, without education, without experience, without support, while being a total loner, an extra sensitive, an introvert, and a very independent creature at that... through creativity!

Long story short, I'm grateful I am in the city again, because... options and tools! I would have never thought I was such a city girl until all that has happened in the last 5 years, but especially 3 years. I learned so much about the world, people, and myself during that time. I need to rebirth myself again now, with all that has been learned, seen, experienced. I am still 42 after all, this still is the same year, we got 3 more months to go, and whatever I sensed and felt before about this year, has indeed materialized. 

I am safe. 

I am guided. 

Amen.

Let's go baby girl, you got this! 

And as Chris used to tell me when he'd see the spark in my eyes at the thought of some crazy, courageous, leap of faith action I had the itch to act upon: 

"Let's do this shit, baby!"

 (Another asshole that I miss.)

Let's do this shit indeed!..................

                                                                      

Drier land

"Just a little time
Till I come to shore
Somewhere that I've seen
But never been before

I am driftwood now
I am homeward bound
Pull me from the sea
Save what's left of me
'cause I'm tired and worn
From the tides and storms

So forgive my wrongs

I am driftwood now
I am homeward bound
Pull me from the sea
Save what's left of me
'cause I'm tired and worn
From the tides and storms
And I made my plans
Back on dryer land

So forgive my wrongs

Loss has helped me find
Blessings in disguise
Showed me where they hide
Opened up my eyes

I am driftwood now
I am homeward bound
Pull me from the sea
Save what's left of me
'cause I'm tired and worn
From the tides and storms

So forgive my wrongs

I am driftwood now
I am homeward bound
Pull me from the sea
Save what's left of me
'cause I'm tired and worn
From the tides and storms
And I made my plans
Back on dryer land

So forgive my wrongs"

- Sami Yusuf

The Song