Author's Signature

    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
View Profile



Archives


Tapping at my chamber door



In 2008, I'll Get Me A Shotgun


I will also:
1.
Yield
2. Get closer to
God
3.
Job hunt some more.
4. Get closer to my
family.
5. Learn a new language.
6.
Finish at least one screenplay.
7.
Lose the extra weight.
8. Get a
driver's license. I will not buy a car.
9. I will
rule my world.
10. I will have my
revenge.

« Home | Discovering Joe » | I am Joe’s long awaited plague » | Madrid » | I am Joe's bending container » | Water Breathing Potion » | Breathless » | Excerpt from My Page » | Stagnant extension of the preserved waiting room » | The space underneath my skin » | Folie de Grandeur »

I am Joe’s sinking regrets

I count to ten when I’m nervous. I also drink warm water. I also read a short surah from the Quran. Sometimes it gets too nerve wrecking I just look up and hope for the best. Divine intervention.
Sometimes it works… sometimes the wait seems endless.


Am I still waiting?, asked the wooden boy.


Lately, I just flip a coin and see what happens, bet on shit that I proudly can-not-get. The interpretation of a chance outcome as the expression of divine will… Touché.


I’ve busied myself lately with absolute randomness. A little Economics with Astrology on the side. Opportunity cost: Cost in terms of forgoing alternatives. It’s all about guns and butter, isn’t it boy? The avoidance of a conflict of interests which results in NO DEAL. It is always about guns and butter no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that maybe in a few months a new and improved third alternative would come your way.
But what if the guns seemed more appealing, closer to your heart, more fucking right?
What if…?


I’ve been travelling for the past few… I’ve been to new places, met new people, old friends, hooked up, partied and danced and laughed; but a name kept chasing me like a shadow. Suddenly, everyone bears the same name. Or perhaps I’m… just… pretending.
But the name chased me still, the color kept painting me leaving behind a trail of dried blood like rust you can brush off your coin collection… but you don’t. It adds value to a coin that was once worth a pint of milk.
The voice kept ringing in the deepest water of the same swimming pool I sunk myself in one year ago, calling me names, listing my regrets.
The world is not the same. My world… is missing what makes it revolve.


They say that it’s healthy to try hard, to move on, to give yourself a second chance… I’ll mark this chance the one millionth. But what if after all the trials, the attempts, the forward steps and the forgetting… you find yourself still there? What if you realize that it’s all been pointless, that your target keeps moving further away every day until the big ass cross turns into a dot that you can barely see, that you can’t feel?


What if you realize that the only traumatizing change that you’ve accomplished is the fact that food doesn’t taste the same, that your thirst for the better you can no longer be quenched? What if you find yourself no longer interested?


I shrink. I put on a mask shaped as a coin and toss myself up in the air and wait for my mind to settle and pray to God for an answer, for a reward.
Do I fucking deserve it?
Would it be more pleasing to land on my fucking head instead? Would all my troubles be over?


Would my troubled mind be at ease, finally?


I watched the eclipse the other day and wished that they were there with me, but they weren’t. I stared for about an hour waiting for a miracle to happen when my world gets painted pitch black, a fresh start, a new memory… but then again, it was merely an eclipse… and by the time it was over, along came the realization that… there is far more distance to run.
Where to?


Or perhaps I’m just escaping it.
Either way… I’ll settle.
I swear to God, I’ll fucking settle. Anything…
Get it off me… before it burns me into ashes.


I learned a new diving trick last week. I blow all the air out of my lungs and push myself into the depth of it all, then I cross my legs and sit at the bottom of the pool: Lung practice. I can hold my breath for a minute and a half with full lungs and for 37 seconds on empty ones. Pretty good for a smoker, I believe. It’s in the second right before you begin to fight your way back up that you begin to realize that your solid world can melt, that your indestructible walls can break, that your heart can shatter.
And so I practiced sixty four times. Feel your lungs collapse. Listen to your heart scream. Realize.


I realized what’s been missing. It was never about discovering myself. It’s about recapturing my true essence. The essence that I’ve left behind in my self-created, hypothetical pool. I’m the one to blame. I miss my soul. I can feel the dried blood blocking my throat. I can taste its chalk marks at the tip of my tongue.
Fuck it… I don’t want to post.
What if the earth rotates? What if the planet revolves?
Night… day… then it’s dark again. What’s the fucking point? When does it all end?
All I can do is wait for these lonely nights to be over for the one millionth time and hope that by the time I wake up the coin will have touched the ground.


Breathe…

incredible piece of writing.

Random.
i like random.

Post a Comment

Links to this post

Create a Link







Recently Judged


Personal Blogs - BlogCatalog Blog Directory
Blog Directory & Search engine