Saudis under the Mask

مرحباً. صباح الخير أكتب لك و أنا أعلم أن زمن الرسائل الورقية قد انتهى مُنذ زمن. تعلمين أننا نَمضي جُلَّ أعمارنِا ونحنُ لا نقول مانشعر به حقيقةً لسبب كالغرور او الإدِّعاء يُجبرنا على الوقوف في أماكنِنا وننتظر دونَ أن نُبين للآخرين حجم خسارتِنا. إننا نموت ونحنُ نحمِل أصدق النصوص ولا نحظى بفرصة لكتابة النصّ الأخير.لكنيّ لا أريد أن أموت قبلَ أن أخبرك كم أحبك وكم هيَ الحياة باردة ومُملّة بدونك.  لازلتُ أذكر الصباحات الماطرة التي كُنّا نبدأها معاً في المدرسة، الأجفان المُتعبة والمتذمرة أحياناً قبل الدخول للحصص الدراسية، خطواتنا السريعة في الإستراحة لحماية كأس القهوة من الإختلاط بالكثير من المطر البارد حتى لايُفقدها الدفء الذي ننشدة في مِثل هذة الأيام، اتصالاتنا في وقتٍ متأخر من الليل حتى بدايات الصباح. الأصدقاء اللطيفين الذينَ كُنا نخوضُ معهم نِقاشات عن الافلام والاغاني.  إنني ابدأ في مرحلة دراسيّة جديدة لاشيء فيها من تلك الأيام وأشتاق إليك الآن أكثر من أيّ وقت.  “ الساعة الخامسة فجرًا بداية العام السادس من انقطاعنا ”

بعضنا يحسها أول خطوة في طريق النجاح  وبعضنا يحسها عقبة مؤدية للفشل  مفهوم البداية يختلف بمنظور كل إنسان  . بعض الناس يعتبرون البداية لغم في طريق النجاح أول ما تخطو عليه ينفجر فيك ويتحول طريقك إلى النجاح لرماد ماله نهاية. البداية أمر محتم في كل أمور الحياة من أبسطها إلى أعقدها ، فأنت كإنسان كانت لك بداية وهي كونك جنين بطول الأظفر  في يطن أمك. النجوم اللي تنور سمانا لها بداية ، كرة نارية صغيرة تضيء ليس أكثر ولكن مع الأيام تتحول إلى جرم ضخم يهدد كل ما حوله من أجرام أخرى. مثل ما قلت في الأعلى أن البداية أمر محتم حتى في النهايات فنسمع مقولة لكل نهاية بداية وأنا شخصيا اتفق مع هذه المقولة أشد الاتفاق لأن في نهاية كل أمر قد حصلت على مرادك فتطمع وتبدأ بطريق آخر لما هو أكبر . جتى عند الفشل قد ترى وهج النجاح من بعيد فتبدأ مرة أخرى لتكمل طريقك الذي ظننت أنه انتهى . أنهي قطعتي بقول أن البداية لغم في طريق النجاح ولكن أنت من تتحكم في هذا اللغم فإما أن ينفجر بك أو تخطو عليه لتكمل رحلتك.

My love lies stranded in light years between the death of a star and the image in your eyes you think I'm waiting but you're just looking at the past.

what Sun doesn't rise to set what friend doesn't arrive to leave what lover doesn't love to hate what beginnings don't begin to end.

I was little when I have dreamt of being a star, the star that illuminated the night sky. I was ten when I realized how silly that sounded: to be an actual star. I was twenty when I thought of my wish every time I saw a star, wondering if every kid has dreamt of that, to sparkle and shine. I, now, am twenty-four, and have realized that I can be a different kind of star and still shine. To be a star, is to achieve what you want; to be you.  To be a star, is to let yourself shine rather than shining on others.  To be a star, is to have the belief that you can make it your own way, no matter of what the others believe. Dreams do come true, and I know, that my dream since I was little girl shall be true one day.

دائمًا ما ينتابنا شعور يعجز تفسيره عند البدايات…مزيجٌ من مشاعرٍ وضدها، وكأن جمال الشيء وُضِع في بدايته فقط، ليتلاشى حتى لا يصبح له طعم أو قيمة، فنتمنى عودته تارة أخرى لنشعر بلذة الشعور ذاته، حتى وإن كان اهتلاسًا أو مجرد مجاملة لم يُلقى لها بالًا. كأن الحوار في البدايات يرتدي قناعًا يخفي وراءه كل شعور مُقنَّع، وكأننا فقدنا القدرة على التحكم بحواسنا…وكلما وعدنا أنفسنا ألا نقع في خدعة البدايات ذاتها، نفشل.

       The accurate definition of a beginning is “the point in time or space at which something begins.” Being born in this life is the start of it all, taking your first steps as a child is the start of something that everyone gets excited for. We all remember our first day of school; where we had our own lunch box for the first time, and how we caught someone smiling back at us. At then, we realized that that’s the start of a friendship that could last our whole life.        It all started when you sat in a classroom and raised your hand for the first time, and spoke for yourself without having your parents by your side. It counts as the start of something; when you introduced yourself as a child, and then time flies to reach a point where you realize that you are growing up so fast that you are currently facing the challenge of who you are supposed to be, and what you should and shouldn't do. You stumble upon people who always bring you down for speaking up, and it somehow happ

       Star night, star bright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.        How magical was that? How innocent. My wish was love. My wish was you. So wishes come true? Or is that just childish bullshit made up for fun? They say stars are born out of a tornado in space. Strong winds and harsh fires twist and turn angrily in space. Then out of all that struggle, a star is born. How funny, how very ironic. I wished for love and I got it. My 10-second love, my short lived romance. It was great while it lasted. Then everything changed,the stars spoke to me tonight.        They said you didn't want me, they said you found another. How can I ignore such bright, powerful, voices? You didn't call, you didn't text. Weeks had gone by, and I heard nothing from you. The stars mocked me, "We granted your wish? What more do you want?!" They said.        I saw you in the cafe across the road, there was a girl on your arm, ki

She looked at the sky with agony counting each embellished luminous diamond and pearl that reflect in her eyes, reminding me that, like the stars, her golden brown eyes take me back home

       My gaze lingers upon the night sky, and I find nothing but mere shapes that envelope our dreams amidst the darkness. We are the ones who acknowledge the moon and its beauty, and yet the stars have been shining independently, without the need to let another element illuminate them. Amidst the darkness, they shine the most. Amidst the hopelessness, they shine even brighter .        Defying the laws of grieving, they grow even stronger during adversity. I never took the moon as a source of beauty, nor the sun; I believe in the beauty of stars. Even as they appear smaller and more fragile in contrast, they grew up needless of help. Then I wished to be, more than ever, an illuminescent star that shines during the darkest of times.

Who am I? Do you know me from the books I've read? The words I've said? Am I from the hearts I mend and push ahead? No, perhaps the hearts I've broken, their names i never mention. Am I from how my body bends, what message it sends? Am I special for loving the night? Craving it like vampires craving a bite? Am I so mysterious that it makes me an attractive sight? Or am I cut open like meat slaughtered with a knife? Do you know me from the stuff I choose, from the money I lose? Or from the past I try to forget or thoughts of the future swimming in my head. Do you only recognize me by my voice on the phone or do you really recognize me when I'm all alone? If I were a box would you see me as transparent? Or would you see me as the one locked in it. Would you know me if I was the opposite, wouldn't you know who I am not even a little bit? Who am I, do you know? Am I straight or against the law? Would you hate me for something you heard or something that you saw?  Would