Wickedness / Wicked August
“I can do my shit alone cuz we’re many in my head.”
Who would’ve thought that it’s possible to live with lots of personalities in one mind and one body? Having many in your head, each is trying to serve his own justice, each is trying to take over and to triumph. Each one has his own ideology.
You wake up in the morning and the first thing that comes up to your mind is: hmm I wonder which personality I woke up with for this day! It may sometimes seem interesting and attracting to have a personality for each one, a personality for each situation… The consequences? Some will see you as a hypocrite, but that is because they don’t know the way you see things and the way you deal with people and things. I always believed that I can’t treat all people the same way. No No I don’t mean that I treat the people I love in a certain way and those I hate in another way. I meant that I treat each single person in a different way than that of the other one. My personality differs from time to time, from city to city and from day to day.
Observers’ question: If as you say you have many personalities and bla bla bla, doesn’t that mean you could love and get attracted to many?
Ugh is that really the first thing and first question you thought of? I couldn’t be more disappointed.
Yes I could and I also could hate a person but still like him at the same time. One of my multiple personalities could hate a specific person and another one could like that same specific person and vice versa.
That also may be explained by my way of writing and how I always get off topic. I guess I find my ecstasy in doing that.
Although, that may result in antimony.
My mind doesn’t differ from a maze. Actually the humans’ brain in itself is a labyrinth. The thing that got me questioning a little bit is that each labyrinth is supposed to have an exit but does the human brain have an exit? Well anyways it doesn’t even make a sense to exit your brain but what I’m trying to say here is that you exit the labyrinth in your brain. Exiting that will result in you knowing all the hideouts in that brain of yours and acquiring all the necessary tools and skills to exit a maze. Finally that will result in you knowing infinity because I guess that’s what happens when you reach 100% knowledge (IMPOSSIBLE UNLESS YOU’RE A GOD OR LUCY). Well at least that’s better than what my friend Clay Jensen said “Maybe love is how you understand infinity. When your love has no limit. When it goes on forever. Maybe that feels like infinity.”
Even though the only thing that our generation is trying to exit nowadays is this country.
Ever heard of a city that consumes you? A city that consumes its citizens.
Well if you didn’t then you should definitely visit our lovely small city. A city that has its own charm but not everyone acknowledge it. Most of those who do acknowledge its charm are our grandparents and parents since they find themselves free and comfortable living in a small city that doesn’t drain you from all your energy just to go from a place to another. A city that has only the necessary sources that you need to live a normal life. A city that guarantees you a spot which is being the ambassador of it. When you leave to pursue your studies in another town, you feel like you are indeed an ambassador trying to tell people about your hometown.
A little bit of change never hurts. We can’t deny that there has been some associations, clubs, organizations and even free movements that are trying to make that change, trying to make an impact in our town and that are trying to advance even if the pace of advancing is not that big or that fast but it is still worth it and better than nothing.
Here I left again that town of mine after spending one consecutive month in it in order to again pursue a goal. I left taking with me two books with the idea of reading and writing in that balcony of mine. It always gives me the impression of it being old and as if I’m living in the 90s or something like that, still I don’t know why. Even though I’m not the type that gets fascinated or turned on by old things, but one sure thing is that my friend Hama certainly does.
I never thought I’d get pranked here. I opened the door this afternoon and I found a plastic bag full of plastic bottles. I got confused and I left it there, but when I came back at night I found that same bag attached to my door handle and that certainly made me more confused. Is it someone trying to prank me or is it just a misunderstanding? I mean like what the f**k is wrong with this neighborhood of mine? Is there anyone normal living here? Living in the house in front of mine is a crazy ex-soldier or so was I told, below me are a couple that are fond of having sex especially in Thursday and Friday nights’, above me are a family that always fights and screams at each other and when I sit in the balcony I’m open to all different kinds of people old and young, male and female, families, couples and single ones and believe me they’re also not normal.
Nothing beats watching your favorite team playing a football match in the stadium. Being surrounded by people you barely know, or you don’t even know at all but still you’re all singing and yelling together supporting the same cause and wearing same shirts.
Then maybe a walk on the beach at Marsa at sunset will suffice. Nothing to share but still a lot is going on your mind. Whoever thought that a walk on the beach will calm your soul is stupid, or else I’m the one with the problem. I guess the second one is more accurate since I do happen to be always on my nerves and always angry with everything and even angry with myself the most.
A year has already passed, a year since that last August.
Only me and you could relate and could understand the meaning of this, the meaning behind that wicked August. His wickedness started even before days.
I’m really starting to believe that this month is cursed. Even though there are a lot of things that I disbelieve but in this one I do believe. I guess this month’s routine is the only routine that I never hated. Us taking our stuff and leaving for our heavenly place. I call it heavenly place even though it’s full of people and scums but only we know its value. Talking for hours to each other about our failures and about our endless stupidity. Friends try to comfort each other, when the only thing me and you do to comfort each other is trying to out-best the other with who f**ked it up more. I guess I broke both of our last year’s records hamouch. Wait till you hear it all. I guess I should’ve been a speaker in F**k’up Nights after all.
Oh my life what has become of you! What a mess you’re in!
It’s like everything keeps popping up from nowhere. Me becoming a magnet. It’s like I’m the negative born while mistakes, failures, downs and wrong doings are also a negative one. But still we’re pulling each other. This piling up even broke the rules of physics that we know. I keep on pulling and they show no resistance at all, it’s the opposite they come rushing to hang on to me in a try to hang me.
My life’s becoming a manifestation of accumulation of shit.
I’m feeling chained and restrained. I have bonds around my ankles. I’ve always had them. They were always suppressing me and holding me back, not allowing me to take the right decision. For a while, I believed they kept me in the safe zone, protected from my thoughts and from my wicked heart. It came that time, when they started popping consequences out into the light. Consequences drawn by that so called massacre, that massacre between the two eternal enemies; brain and heart. They drew bruises on my heart and led to a tumor in my brain.
Seemed to be an enduring war of endurance.
Who could last longer? Who could endure more? Who has more stamina? Who’ll be victorious, crowned and stand tall yelling “I triumph”?
My nib did not graze the vellum for a long while. It was merely scribbling. Penetrating your brain searching for a glimpse of inspiration. This time nee within you.
I’m still a mess. I’m an empty vessel full of desire to write everything and nothing. A receptacle ready to even write about a strawberry if word don’t fail me like they always did.
Aches and pain always gave me that kind of ecstasy and pleasure and still that soreness of trying to break the glass between reality and a nightmare in disguise more than it being a dream masqueraded never felt better.
This life of ours never had the concept of perpetual gain, everything is temporary. The happiness, sadness, pain and pleasure. They are all a wayfarer passing by.
Walking down the aisle of uncertainty. Day dreaming about the memories displayed in an exhibition.
Life has always been a cycle of changes and fluctuations that touch you, your personality, your choices, your environment, and the people you hang out with and hang up to.
Three things cannot be long hidden “The Sun, The Moon, The Truth”. Apportez moi du vin fort so that I could make them four. So that I could wear the negligee of a melodramatically unpretentious receptacle.
I don’t want to admit to something if all it’s going to cause is pain, it is better sometimes to be a nymphomaniac. That way admitting won’t cause any pain. You’ll embrace that sickness of yours, embrace being emotionless. I thought that admitting will release me and will get me my getup, getup is a prison vocabulary meaning release and pardon.
I am cocooned in my own thoughts, writing, music and coffee. I just need to work this damn maze inside my mind. Standing in the shadows remembering the memories of what we weren’t. But it will never be enough for me. The truth and my lies right now are falling like the rain. Those wild thoughts of mine were like a star that fell to earth.
An innocent drink or a drop of booze could lead to dinner, and a dinner could start friendships and friendships could lead to confidences or even to attachment and feelings. Too dangerous.
Alice asked the white rabbit: How long is forever? He replied: Sometimes, just one second. But time went neither slowly nor quickly. It was simply time and sometimes you need to seize the moment or die regretting the time you lost.
That look she gives me as if I am what her eyes have been searching for all along. Like I am the very purpose for her looking and I wonder if this is the moment when I am found. But she ran from the moment. Afraid she couldn’t give me what I wanted. But all I ever wanted was the moment. (Diaries of a drunk dreamy lover)
This note book of mine is just making me feel as if it is a death note. A death note in which everything that is written is either being forgotten and sinking down the dark cold ocean or either being multiplied to make it always remembered and forever lasting pain. I wish you were just a normal death note in which everything that is written is promised a meeting with the Shinigami.
There is a story behind every person and thing. There is a reason why they are the way they are. Think about that before you judge someone. But I could give a thousand reasons why.
August has always made me feel as if the months that are prior to him are full of fairy tales and that it’s just him standing there proud of being special, special by its damn wickedness. August the month full of dreams and nightmares, downs and dooms.
I never thought I would say this to a non-living thing but here I am saying this to you August. I don’t hate you, I’m just not necessarily excited about your existence.
************
انادي بالصوت و نعيط
على دنيا ملاها وسخها و فيه تبيظ
انادي بالصوت و نعيط
على عباد في المسؤولية تفرط
على عباد في غيرها ما تفكر
و كي تعمل حاجة ما تبرر و ما تحكر
بالعكس بنتيجة و آثار افعالها في الغير تاثر و تزيد تكثر
حكاية و تصير, مرة و مرتين
و تقلب عليك عبد ولا ميتين
فيهم الحيين و فيهم الميتين
و فيهم الي تصورتهمش من هاك المرتين
انادي بالصوت و نعيط
على كيان مقام عايلتي خذا و من غير ما نخمم
و الأصحاب الي فيه العهد معاهم مذمم
One of the hardest battles we fight is between what we know and what we feel.
