Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Written with blood and tears

Today I dreamt, as usual, that my mother passed away. You know those kinds of dreams that slap you in the face with your deepest fears and you keep fidgeting around in your sleep, suffocating and sweating...thinking it is the bitter truth...and you keep wondering what would you do for the rest of your life? And you link between dreams and reality in a very odd way that when you wake up you just take a second to realise it was all your unconscious mind hallucinating - if we consider hallucination to be blabbering the truth as a result of sickness,and give out a huge sigh of relief.
Apart from big-word talking, sometimes I feel I want to get away from me, from my life. I wake up in the morning, rush to work, "Work!Work!Work!/Till the sun shines through the roof!", come back, sometimes change my clothes, and sit infront of the pc...only to leave a couple of hours late from my me bedtime.
I don't talk. I don't listen. I don't laugh. I don't feel.
I just stare at that screen all night long.
I don't bother to ask how much of the furniture has my sister bought for her new home...her new 'marital nest' as we say in Egypt? When is she getting married? Is it next month? Did my brother pass his exams? Is my father at home so I can give him a hug?
And my mother. I feel like I was born, has grown, and will die with a person I know little about.
It is a crazy world where you live with a person and share your everything all day longwith her and just never feel the warmth because you're too busy checking your damn hotmail account. To think that a family member lived and died without you ever having a chance to tell him how much you love him...to have a good conversation and just never let go of your thoughts without any restraints. You see a rehearsal of a scene from the future, your mother dying without knowing that she was your own flesh and blood, you cry a little, share a couple of sentences with her...then return to your exile,your island, your computer.
Ask me now what a human touch is and I doubt if I can explain or feel that. My skin has become too, too cold to feel anything except the dry mouse and the slipping keys on the keyboard. I just want so much to throw myself away in my mother's arms right now who is a few feet away before she becomes a grave away. A lifetime away. A world away.
And when she goes to heaven I doubt if I can follow. That means more and more distances apart. I'm just so filled with sin and filth and she's so pure for me to touch or even talk to. And when I remember all the times I've yelled at her or made her angry...I feel so helpless to say the least.
No, mother. I won't let you die without me telling you I cannot - I just cannot go on without you near me. Mother I know I'm selfish but I just never know how a mother's love is. And I know I will remember you looking through my children's eyes, and mourn!
And my cherished readers, I'm still sitting here writing those words for you to read...I keep imagining myself taking a few steps to the kitchen to enjoy my mother's warmth...I don't want to live and die not knowing what a mother's warmth is.
I don't want to spend my life silent and motionless here on that chair staring into nothingness, waiting for death to take any of us.
I will go now and take her into my arms without much explanation...I give her a hug which might fill me until the day I die..if that is ever possible
I will not love and feel and see and touch and talk to and listen and breathe the computer...I'm walking away. I'm breaking the habit tonight.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Back to memories

After the strength I felt and the happiness of the 'achievment'...I'm left with doubts that are just making me fade away. I feel so sick trying to remember where his hand reached? Was it my arm or armpit or or or? I'm not angry at myself this time for being silent cause I wasn't...I just feel sick to my stomach that I have to go through all of the doubts, sleepless nights, nightmares, paranoia, longing to shake myself to tears but stopping because it's not my fault ! Waiting for long months, years, lifetimes ahead to heal and just forgot about all that had happened! Again I still feel his hand on my body and I feel so worthless. I feel like "nothing can extinguish my anger." If I could just erase it all from my memory,but no matter how I try to push it to the back of my head it keeps coming back driving me crazy. I even hate the thought of being touched again by a future husband!
I can go about and smile pretending I can get through this but it's so hard to do it alone. If I talk to someone I'll burst into tears and I don't want to cry for a nothing. But I'm just wondering who's the nothing here...him or me.

n.b. This post refers to the 'sexual harrassment' incident in the post right before it.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

كسرت حاجز الصمت- كلاكيت تانى مرة


:) تحذير:تدوينة سعيدة
المرة اللى فاتت اللى كسرت فيها حاجز الصمت(ضد التحرش الجنسى) كنت لسة ضعيفة و مش عارفة اخد حقى من حد, لكن النهارده بس حسيت قد ايه حملة جمع الشهادات و كل الناس اللى وقفوا معايا...كل البنات اللى اتكلمت و حتى الناس اللى هاجمونى خلونى بقيت اقوى
النهارده كنت راكبة الاوتوبيس المكيف(اللى هو المفروض وسيلة آدمية) و أول ما قعدت جه على بالى الايدين اللى بتتمد ما بين الكراسى,قلقت شوية و قلت عادى ما انا طول ما انا معتبة برة عتبة البيت ببقى قلقانة, فضلت مصحصحة شوية بس غصب عنى لما الباص كان معدى عند جامعتى سرحت, سرحت فى الوشوش و الأماكن و الذكريات و الصحاب,فجأة حسيت بحاجة غريبة, بصيت لقيت اللى قاعد ورايا بيسحب ايده بسرعة من على دراعى
الدم غلى في عروقى, اتلفت بسرعة و قلت له بصوت عالى "ايدك لو اتمدت عندى تانى حاقطعها لك" ساعتها الراجل نط من مكانه واترعب و قاللى بصوت واطى و ببجاحة يتحسد عليها "هو انا عملتلك حاجة" و طلع يجرى على قدام.
و قعدت و انا برتعش و دمى بيفور من الغضب, خصوصا ان مفيش اى حد من الشنبات اللى كانوا قاعدين حواليا كلف نفسه انه يدافع عنى او يسألنى ايه اللى حصل
شوية و حسيت بحالة غريبة من الفخر و السعادة ماحسيتهاش قبل كده فى المواقف الهباب دى, ياااااه أول مرة أكسر حاجز الصمت بالطريقة دى! أول مرة أقول لمتحرش : لأ! طول عمرى بخاف و بتحط فى دور الضحية و برجع البيت اعيط و اكتئب لشهور طويلة, اول مر ة اقف ادافع عن نفسى بالقوة دى من غير مساعدة حد, من غير خوف من حد, اول مرة امشى فى الشارع رافعة راسى زى اللى كان فى معركة و انتصر فيها
و انا نازلة دورت عليه, لو كنت لقيته كنت حاقول باعلى صوتى لكل الركاب ان ده متحرش خللى بالكوا منه, إمعانا فى الذل يعنى زى ما بيذلنا, تفتكروا حيستجرى يمد ايده على بنات الناس تانى؟
انا النهارده فعلا أقوى من أى يوم تانى

Sunday, January 07, 2007

You being you

I saw you today dressed in black, black locks of hair falling over your fine forehead...your eyes deep, deep blue as they always are; looking at me with that eternal look of hesitation. And when I took you to my arms,you didn't understand I was not just greeting you, you didn't understand that I needed to feel you in my arms,like I need you now, like you always haunt my wildest dreams. I wish I could show you more of my skin than the exams and studying and the languages and college...but it's always never the right time. You are always on a hurry...slipping away from my fingers before I can show you how much of a soulmate you are to me. How can I express! How can I express among those swarms of people, this leaden sky...this short time...that only gives me a minute to look deeper into your eyes, searching for a clue I can never find. Is there any chance for you and me? Sometimes I just wish I could stop the sands of time, take you somewhere only we know and just pour out my entire self into your ears, into your lips, "then I'll let the darkness cover me...deny everything...slowly walk away...to leave again...on my own."
Have I ever told you how much I miss you...my dear I always do. It's just insatiable...all I've got for you in my soul. And to hear of you talking of the unknown lover you're waiting for...of the extreme loneliness you're living in...of the inexplicable desire and tension living in your soul that you try to express in your art, breaks my heart. And oh...oh if you know what it is for a heart to be broken!
I wonder why you ever have to walk away from me...where else will you ever find a heart that bleeds just to see you leave, leave so simply and leave my world behind! Where else will you find a heart that would rather be silent forever than ever hurt you? So don't talk about waiting for someone to love. I bleed for you. I ache for you...
You being you...you being everything you are...the distressed artist... the puzzled child...the yearning lover.....the ordinary face amongst the millions of faces we brush by as we go through each step of the way. The black magic in your eyes that just transfixes me when I sense it. That holds me from saying the words that had kept my heart and tongue for so long in captivity...

Or do I have to be a man?