Loathe

Life is just numerous phases that we need to pass in order to achieve and to deserve that so promised Paradise or also to deserve a golden ticket into Hell. Life is destiny. Your life is a word document that you design and fill. You are the decision maker in your own enterprise. Beware the inflation. Beware enlarged sins. When it is all finished, you will discover it was never random.

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Each one passed different stages in life that helped build his personality. One sure thing is that we all passed that stage of childhood. That stage that the only common thing we all had was our innocence. A minute of silence please... 
We need to sacrifice tremendous things in life to reach better ones. You need to sacrifice innocence to reach pleasure. 
Lots of people thought and wanted to write letters to their future selves and a minority thought about writing one to their past selves. You may want to avoid that because you know all that letter’s going to contain is guilt and remorse.
Well take a seat please. Nah not you. That was for my shoulder angel on the right. This is the devil’s turn. Though it was his turn for many years now I think. Nothing have changed, excuse my stupidity dear angel. 
“Hello Sakr! Yeah Sakr not Saker or Sakar, I know you hate that. By the way, our name on our passport will be “Sakar Saadi”. Yeah I know right! I had the same reaction.
Anyway, hope you are doing better than me. I am doing well, except that I’m doing well on a different bases than the ones we used to have buddy. Though you still do have them. I like that picture of us holding red flowers. One advice, don’t use it to impress girls. I didn’t so I think you won’t as well. Enjoy that journey with family on top of the Chaambi Mountain. That will be the last one for quite a moment. You are going to love for the first time and that is going to last for a period where you will think that first love never dies. Total bullsh*t! Nothing is going to last, not the first nor the second or the last one. You are going to think you’re in love when you’re not. Actually you will never be in love. But look at the bright side, you’re going to develop dating and flirting skills and you’re not going to remain that sweet dorky boy. You’ll reach a phase where it’ll all be just numbers, and numbers never mattered nor they’ll ever matter.
Now that we are way passed that, let us get to the real business. Dude, the first kiss is important just at that precise moment then BOOM everything’s gone and no one will remember especially when it will be from just a friend not someone you cared about. Same thing goes for the other stuff that’ll happen.
And now, don’t tell me you thought you will never drink? OH god you did! Shame! Cheer up buddy. I’m not going to ruin that moment, in high-school baccalaureate year, for you. What a fucking ecstasy! They say the love you experience in university is a true love that will last. Well, hello from the other side, I’m there now and I confirm that. Seriously man, I have experienced that true lasting love more than twice if I’m not mistaken. Want signs? Here you go. All of them are in the same year. She is a white one, since I forgot to mention that you will grow to be a racist and she’s not going to like that about you but who cares, not us my boy. Another clue, one of them has medium hair and the other two used to have long hair. By the way, you are going to grow to hate girls with Hijab since you are going to date enough of them.
To conclude my man, learn from my mistakes. Don’t drink! Don’t be a scamp! Don’t rush when it comes to intimate moments, the best is yet to come. Know what your heart desires, if you have feelings for someone, I’m not going to say tell her right away but please do eventually or you will regret it, and more importantly don’t fall for two girls at the same time! Or else she will be the tear in our heart. Sometimes you’ve gotta be the NO! “

Sh*t I forgot you are too little to understand English. When you are old enough to re-read this, it will be already too late for you as well. 
Well then, let your angel rest and come join me for a glass buddy.
A glass that will help us write something for our dear future self.

“Hey Sir! Just saying that out of respect, because who knows what post you are occupying now. I hope you are still as humble as we are, we would be disappointed if you are not.
So how are things going? I bet you are still just a loser, both professionally and emotionally. Let’s not get so far, what did you do in the current problem and obstacle we are facing? Shh no cursing, we have our little buddy here with us. Yeah I know how cute he is, we are I mean.
Man let’s settle down and solve this. If we keep on drinking, we’re going to fall back in love. Oh no wait! That’s a different line. If we keep on drinking, we’re going to commit greater mistakes. Why does fancy places produce fancy mistakes, fancy sins? Yeah yeah, I’m not expecting any answer to that. So fill it up Amal.
There will be lows, but eventually there will still be lows. I’m not a believer, I don’t believe that after lows, there will be highs.
We must not be thinking, since we can’t seem to get enough. Wasn’t just one enough for us? So basically what I’m enquiring about is whether things changed or remained the same. Which tribe won? Almighty heart or stupid brain. The massacre continues. The throne keeps on trembling, when it should be rumbling. The heart keeps on fooling, when it should be fueling. Meanwhile, the brain burning the revolution’s wheels. The “Arab Spring” happening during winter. The game of thrones’ long night during winter. None of them is as important as our winter’s revolution mate. One that will end with two loosing parts, the heart fueling the wheels the brain’s burning. A massacre that’ll end with an empty iced throne.
From another perspective, a massacre that’ll pave the road for two other winners that’ll come pick two young hearts. Meanwhile, you’ll find me sharing a glass with you two buddies, while telling you the story of a loser.
Remember when I told you you’re still a loser and that you shouldn’t curse? Well you’re dumb. He’s still too young to understand English, so curse motherf**ker. Nah wait! We’re drinking together! That means he’s already grown up and understands! Shit! Pull the trigger.
We have just finished carving your gravestone. It say’s “A loving soul. A soul that loved too much that it ended up killing itself.” 
We didn’t want to carve a soul that loved too many. No need to thank us. Let your soul rest and join us.”

I have been writing this letter to a so called “Me” in the far future. A dead “Me”, a lost “Me”, a “Me” that I don’t see living in the near nor far future. Peace be upon our soul. Escape heaven, it wasn’t made for you. It wasn’t made for someone who keeps taking wrong foolish steps and decisions, let alone taking the straight path to heaven. Escape darkness fellow. Follow the whispering clouds. For here we finally meet, exchanging gazes with both hazel eyes. For what’s already gone, but never dead. As I’m saying my last goodbyes with my withered eyes. Let’s raise a glass to the stupid me. The dorky silly me. We lost. GAME OVER.

Writing for me was always a way of letting anger out. Not any type of anger. Not anger caused by “people” around me. But anger caused by my foolishness. Writing for me is a substitute. A substitute for something you may deserve to know. The reason you may deserve to know it is so that you never stop. Never stop whatever you’re doing, so that I never stop writing.
Write a book she said. Oh dear, you have no single clue that if I ever wrote one, it will be for you, you 3 lost souls. Lost souls that screamed all at once “I want to be more than just a life”. Screw your beliefs. Screw your taboos, when you could have booze. Screw that red line, that red line that comes between any beautiful things. That line, that isthmus separating two beautiful dark seas. Screw anything that shall prevent me from being more than just a life.
I’m suffering from the shoeleather cost, since I have been walking in a two-way road for quite a moment now. I’ve been walking from a heart to another. I’ve been walking from my heart reaching my brain and then back till my shoes wear out and I’m barefoot now continuing the journey.
If I ever wrote a book, it will be categorized in the top failures section. Is there a category for f**k’upers?
This was all written after a mass suicide. A suicide of 3 lost souls. Childhood’s innocence, Adolescence’s foolishness and Adulthood’s dignity.
You thought things would end just like this? Death was never the ending. Death is just the beginning. Is it fair to end with no words being spoken by our other 2 dear souls?

“Hey loser! Hope you’re not doing well. What! Surprised? Of course we wouldn’t be happy for you or praising you. Give us one single reason to praise you for. *The past speaking* though I’m just a boy, I’m already cursing at you, you flipped my life upwards down, you ruined me. All I am today is caused by you. If there is anyone I should blame for anything that is happening to me, it is you dorky. Why write for me in the first place. Innocence being traded for pleasure? What the hell were you thinking? Oh excuse me, you weren’t.
*Future speaking* what can I add after what has been said. Oh well, actually a lot is left to be said. I’m f**king dead! Anything worse? I don’t think so. All your actions have led to my death, both physically, emotionally and spiritually. All you kept mumbling about is massacres, alcohol and sh*tless sh*t. How about we play a game? Dare or dare. I f**king dare you to wake up. See! One single thing. Wake up from your nightmares, stop dreaming and stop this fairy tale of yours. We loathe you, we loathe the way you handle things. In a matter of fact, we scorn every single thing and decision you take.
Yes we SCREAMED and here we scream again “We want to be more than just a life”, we want to be a life worth being lived. One that is worth being told and worth being written, not an empty one. It is a life, not a loop.
That grave was made for you, was made for you to rot in it. That grave will bury you, will bury your sins and that gravestone will have the following carved on it “Nothing too special, just a simple man passed from here. Just a simple man passed through life.”
What did you leave in life? What did you leave for me? Nothing! And besides all of this, you write to ask me what I have done concerning your current problems. Yes let me repeat that, your current problems. Not mine and not anybody else’s problems. Let me tell you the story of the German hyperinflation of the 1920s, which led to a restaurant’s waiter to stand up on a table every 30 minutes to call out the new prices. Your heart my dear is standing up every 30 seconds to call out... 
Your effect on us is the same as the butterfly effect. A single swing from that wing is capable of throwing us face to face with storms that we had no hands in creating, but you did. You are not the pushy type you say but still you have always pushed us. You are pushing us towards our own extinction. A tear drop, drops down the pain. A tear drop, drops down the flame. The flame of a non-ending split.”

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And no f**k was ever given.
When it is all finished, you will discover it was never random.
They say a lady cuts her hair for a new beginning, what does a man do? Maybe cut hope, or cut ropes with the past and the future.
Goodbye buddies. That was one hell of a ride.
ناس تقرب للدنيا شوي, و انا نقرب للموت شوي شوي, خليني شوي.