About the me that got lost in you and the me you lead me to!

I can't find words! I want to weave words of waiting, of slowly watching the once vibrant fibres of your heart turn into scar tissue, but then I remember that you are at the end of my lines and my heart comes alive again. I want to speak of the constant buzz of feelings at the back of every mundane life thought and how exhausting they are, but then I flow with them all the way to you and stop; the very thought of you has become the home of all my thoughts, like mundane is not so boring with you there, like you there right next to all the "me"s in my head is the most natural thing in the world. I want to speak of the frightening intensity of all my thoughts, I want to speak of the sharp edges of my feelings, and the blinding glare of all this new, but then you take my hand in exploring and it all just becomes milder, not because the light dimmed out or the edges were dulled, but because your entity is my shield! I can't find the words because I am too busy hanging on the edges of yours; I can't find the words because all the corners that used to collect the shards of me have been occupied by you.  All I want to share now is you, all I want to say is you, all I want to connect to is you. The three small letters of the word "you" have gained the weight of my heart ever since they wore you! You are enough... Minions, you're going to have to share my spaces 

About the strumming of my chords in alternation and the loops of fantasy!

Minions! I come to you at the last possible expansion of the stitches that keep all my chocked mouths closed. Hope is at its essence a play with words, it adds a myriad of layers to every minor insignificant event in our lives, it makes signs out of every spoken word. Deflated hope is also one of the main reasons our hearts turn into a mess of shards as we grow older instead of the slippery smooth of their origins. I soar me up with no regard to the lack of any safety net, with no regard to the gleaming blades below, and even though there is no gravity inside, I spin around myself in so many loops that I create my very own gravitational centre, bringing me down from the height of hope to the stagnant pool of my blades, in the most pleasant excruciating pain my heart had ever squeezed through; pleasant with the temporarily undone knots, excruciating with all the new shards formed and remoulded into semi function. Minions, never before have you wanted out this bad, never before have I wanted you to be; yet now.... now I can barely keep you in, even with all the will power I can muster. I want to allow all my colours loose, be seen, judged even if I am to be found inadequate, this is the one time I can't fathom the possibility of another silent passing through! Minions, validate yourself, and in due time, you *will* be let fly to your callings as you please.

About the shrinkage of words that lead to shrinkage of worlds, and half deliveries!

Minions! I am selfish. Connecting to others is a strong driving force to human behaviour, it is a need; I have never had that need satisfied. I am too vain to risk showing people my cracks, I can't connect without showing them. Instead of focusing on all the things I want to say, I drown myself in all the ways I could say them but won't! I break and rearrange the letters a thousand times; I play with synonyms and admire the beauty of antonyms! I dance with words till I lose the urgency of saying them, then I wake up, sweating, tired and as always disconnected....  If I use "like" instead of "burn with love", then I can test the waters... if I use "tired" instead of "maddeningly lonely" I can disguise my weakness, if I use "No" instead of "I have been waiting a thousand years to say Yes!" I keep my walls up... I use words that are always half burning with the deepest conviction of their meanings, the fire gets put out by fake half jokes and I fizzle instead of ignite! Minions, deliver me out of halves. 

About the confinement of my skin, and the sealed doors!

Minions! I come to you jaded. It blows my mind how my internal worlds could be falling apart into new realities while being completely still on the outside, talking, joking, being "social". Lonely is when I can vividly see me banging my head and fists at the solid surface of my skin from the inside while the soft skin of the outside remains composed; as if my cells are bound together by melded iron and steel instead of organic matter; as if my physical borders are riddled with armed forces. I wanted to yell out things that wouldn't even fight against the lumps of my throat, so I settled for another defeated sigh. Today I typed what I didn't want to say... today I fell out of denial and into a razor sharp new reality... today I melted, solidified into a new mould, and lied. Minions, help me find the door back to denial, it was kinder to my heart. 

About trust and the inches of our faith!

Minions! I come to you in my loosest grasp of myself yet. As humans, our wanting feels most pressing when the possibility of it satisfied is strongest; we are the most hungry at the sight of food, and we struggle to convey with most, almost hopeless, sincerity when we recognize fitting docks for our bridges. As humans, we are driven the most into corners by losing those close possibilities from our almost grasping hands; at the culmination of my struggling to connect with all the matter of my hand stretched full, an inch of space persists, one that can only be closed by free falling out of all my familiar, out of denials, comfort zones, and "white" lies.... my chains ring out in protest to moving their rust.  Heights have always unsettled me, not for fear of falling, rather due to the tightening of the chains of my not being able to simply fly off! People who understand have always unsettled me, not for all the space covered, rather due to the tightening of the chains that can only be broken with my eyes closed and senses sealed, due to the one inch that still needs covering! Minions, I don't really know....

About the sine waves, the scattering of my parts and the truths!

Minions! I come to you rapidly alternating internal explosions with implosions..... I spend my days building boxes, perfecting the walls, looking over the cracks with content smiles, rattling the bars and pulling on the chains to make sure everything is secure and then panic when I find out I'm on the inside! I then proceed to cower into denial, imagining how easy it would be to bring the boxes down when I want to, how I am in full control, and how I don't mind them in the first place..... and then panic when I realize, I lie. Having the heart of me all but beat out of my wide open chest one second, then slowing into a worked trudge against the caving in of that same chest walls the next; I feel as if every cell of me is me, pacing the floors of my head, banging their heads against its walls, stubbing their toes and clenching their fists, stomping their legs and rocking on the balls of their feet, biting their nails and twisting their hands to all the shapes they could and could not be.... maddening with search for the lines between truth and comforting lies, lies and truths we hope are so. Minions, colour me braver so I can handle it, then face me head on, and most important, rock me into sleep! 

About the pretty of assemtry, and mental resonance!

I've always preferred pretty to beautiful, always loved things that existed despite themselves rather than because of them. There is something so inherently resonant in all things that hold their own with all their imperfections. My favourite bracelet is a rosary missing a bead, it was in a stall, separated, declared to be of less value, to me though, the missing bead is a speed bump; a simple glance towards my wrist breaks me out of the automation of everyday life and into memories of hot weather, good company, places that had soul and how I enthusiastically declared my eternal love for the unbalanced rosary. There's something very distant about sleek perfect things, things that are too smooth for memories or soul to latch onto and grow, things that are so full of themselves that there is no room for connections, things that are too shiny to show anything but a reflection! There's an instinctive bond between souls with all their indents, grooves, nooks, scar tissue and rough patches and things that feel like they have had their share of life too. If not for the areas of compromise and shape shifting in us, how can we make contact? If not for the small value-diminishing faults in industry, how can you see each thing for it's irreplaceable own? If not for our scars, how could we be ourselves?! Minions, we're OK. 

About detachment, my mysteries, and the sharp and the dull!

Minions! It's been so long... I am again alone enough to turn inside, to turn to you my ever supportive figments of imagination. I've always felt a certain affinity to incomplete things, things that should be symmetrical but are not.... I've also always kept myself to myself, never wading in to further than up my ankles, never to my knees much less my heart. Looking in now is like looking through tens of old filters, windows, murky waters and years' debris. I can't see me no matter how many cobwebs I blow, and after a certain threshold of sharpness to my feelings, their cuts become too swift and clean for me to notice! If I can't see, or feel me.... then what is a lie and what is truth, to myself or to my people. Are my extended hands sincere? My bridges have proven themselves flimsy time and time again, no matter how sturdy I think I've built them, they fall apart with the first sign of time wearing, with all the work invested, I never add anything but the bare minimum of emotional involvement, I build my bridges on salt..... Minions, help me face you properly... lay me out clearer, and for once, cement my salt! 

About the winds that went stale!

Minions! I hate pickles. there is something very melancholic in the way pickles are made, pushed into tight spaces, submerged in salt and vinegar and acid, having the water dry out of you and replaced by the pungent vichyssoise of burning chemicals..... no wonder they emerge in colours close to those of imagined zombies! There is something very eerie about the slow character of the process of making pickles, time has a frightening effect on things kept tight, though it seems an oxymoron, the slow passing of time is the most powerful accelerator to the festering of things under our skin. For some reason, the expression "put a lid on it" reminds me of pickle jars; I used to talk a lot, I used to express and connect and share, granted not all but the important things.... now I just put a lid on it. It's easy to turn the green clear of a cucumber into a dead swamp of a pickle, you just need to add feelings that burn and put a lid on it. To turn the healthy pink of my heart to a muddy swamp of fear, add salty constrictions and put a lid on it. It used to be easy to wade through the lakes of my mind, now I get stuck in the stifling stale air... and I still put a lid on it. Minions, open me up before I shrivel into a zombie coloured lidded jar. 

About the rooms and drawers!

Minions! I come to you exasperated. I find my self breathing out "I don't know" quite often, which only serves to wondering what exactly don't I know. I lose track of my questions to the point I don't realize I'm walking tight ropes till I reach their ends... if I could build pillow bridges between the rooms of my head, I could maybe find my questions and only then get past my "I don't know" sighs. Minions, connect me clearer!

About communication, mouth jails and shaky bridges!

Minions, I come to you extended to a self enforced halt! I have watched my heart boil and spill over in the spaces of my chest a million times over, a kind of spilling over that mysteriously and quickly turns into upward avalanches of words that unconventionally choose to go up stream clutching to the grooves and specific indentations of my vocal cords. Most of the times my head gets jealous, why are those words so big, why do they try so hard to be spoken, what is it that makes them brim with layers and fold themselves to fill the shoes of their meanings and surpass the depth less surfaces of their letters... why don't the brain words go up in flames too... and in those most of times, the head, in what might be its only senseless childish act of petty sabotage, stops those avalanches... halts them at the very tips of my tongue and watches them tumble over each other in hollow victory! In terms of myself, I am the hesitant head whose fear of burning out is wrapped in petty jealousy, I am the heart that keeps expanding only to suddenly shrink and ooze all its light out... I am a guru of ajar doors and words just barely left unspoken! Minions, expand the overlapping of courage and cowardice of my warring halves, align me with me and as ever be there! 

About facades, obsessive behavioural patterns and shape-shifting pills!

Minions! I come to you on a shaky psyche. When someone is chronically scared, things and people that make them safe become addictive and escaping becomes as instinctive as it is demoralizing. Fear becomes an underlying propeller of everything that is perceived as "me"! Sometimes I hate it when people call my name, it builds more walls when I say yes, it makes a liar out of me when I say yes...... Minions, you need to be undone! 

About the constant migration of the borders!

Minions, I come to you purging! I have practised till perfection and beyond it till permanence the act of looking for me.... when I was young, I was maybe behind that test grade, in this story, with those friends, in that mold.... when I was a bit older than young I was maybe in that protagonist, in this song, maybe I was unique and I was in the exact opposite of that mold..... now maybe I can be found in the patterns, maybe in people's views on me, maybe in my best produce rather than best state of being, maybe in conversations where practical strangers praise me on goodness I know I do not have, maybe in those most honest lies, maybe I am in my steadfast belief in their falsehood..... when I'm older maybe I will have found me already, maybe all I will have found are new nooks and crannies to look for me in. I honestly don't know any more if people are really supposed to find themselves, or if there is nothing to find, if our lives and our"selves" are simply built and designed by us along the way. Minions, against what people said to me over and over again, the older I am the less I know and the wider more complicated the places I need to look for me in get, and that... that is just not fun! I have practised till perfection, and beyond it till permanence and beyond those till meaningless the act of looking for me.... Minions, find me, or at least find meaning, till then I wander with you in apathy.

About personal space, social dances and walls!

Minions! My stretching extensions of personal space, I come to you perplexed. Between the cauldrons of my heart and the gaps of my lips have always lied a thousand doors and locks, yet to some, feelings and thoughts are continuously flowing as if they have their hearts barely inside them at all! Our relationships with people are like intersecting venn diagrams, for every inch we are offered, an equal portion of us is expectedly gobbled up.... we are most easily invaded by being lured in rather than heavily attacked, and thus my minions, sincerity unnerves me. Minions! Help me find a middle ground, semi permeable walls that can go one way or thicker skin that can hold me firmly while under the invasion. 

About the fears, reluctances and chains that won't go away!

Minions! My only spaces of ultimate freedom, I come to you scared. While we spend our lives fearing worst case scenarios.. it is in fact the things that we already know that could have immense power over us and within seconds could run us to the ground cowering! Even at the very moment we think we're on top of the world old ingrained chains pull us right into the mud again. Every cell in me is shivering in alarm of undefined consequences, almost as though if I only loosened up a minuscule bit they will burst in escape in a hundred different directions and I will be no more... so I grip me tighter. Sometimes it feels as if the only safe place is inside, so I imagine me going into myself in a crescendo that would only lead to self doom till the exhaustion from the image drains the adrenaline. Sometimes even that wont do... fear is a strong cage minions and I need out! Minions, dispel my chains so I can run in joy rather than fear, and back me firmer so I won't turn back.... it is with faith in you that I jump into the fray again.  

This I just like!

KamOna: "رسائل لن ترسل": هنا ساكتب أحداثا قد يراها البعض هذيانا .. أو قطعا متفرقة كتبتها فى أوقاتٍ متباعدة لاستعرض مهاراتى اللغوية.. قد يرى البعض انها لا ترتقى ل...

About the glue, the ground, and the strings!

Minions! My honest specks of self-awareness. Finding solace can be a blind force! Control is at its weakest when it is under the impression of being its strongest and the glue that keeps fixed facts in place... well everyday I wonder about its strength and everyday it proves more frail than the one before. While we get zealous and firm, we are at any given moment one small perspective away from an annihilating reconstruction of our "granted", "familiar" and "basic", like a simple small snap in the string that holds us together... the snap is minimal but it made all the difference between lost and found! Minions, I need you to root me deeper, back me stronger and solidify this ground already... it is with a flailing heart that I await you! 

About points, lines, circles and Shangri La!

Minions! I come to you today, as always, in need of your rearrangements. In between A to B straight and A to A curves lies a struggle, because while straight is definite, it is also shallow, short in its length and unsatisfactory and on the other hand curves are deep, stretching and intimate yet easily side tracked and flimsy! To get over our inadequacies, past out fears and perfectly in the face of our doubts balance must be held.... between the line and the curve lies our definite solid ground! Minions, help me shed my abrasions and find middle ground, it is with resolution I await you.

About the new, the scary, and the engulfing!

Minions! My ever brimming patches of thought, I come to you in guises. Sometimes the perplexing doesn't lie in uncharted territories beyond our lines, sometimes it is dropped smack in the middle of our supposedly known, sometimes it squashes all the granted, and sometimes it leaves us there static with a half extended arm, half withdrawing heart and a fully bustling mind! Like a starry black sphere of questions in the middle of my lush green, it mocks "safety", because sometimes we can't know with poking, looking, smelling or touching.. sometimes we have to venture. Minions, bridge my gaps so we know, and promise to mend when we do... it is with resolute faith in you that I shun control...

About cowardice, facing mirrors, and the people who see!

Minions! I come to you today as your dependant material rather than your proof of existence! To eyes that have not been open before, spotlights can drive people back into darkness. Granted lives were not made for us to tip-toe around or watch silently from the sidelines, but a constant hundred percent could be exhausting. Between the risk of a hundred percent and the apathy of the sidelines lies all of you that make me, pulling to either side! Minions, grow me bigger than I am, push me further and shield me thicker. It is with a rare hundred percent faith, I await you.

About drama queens, disbelonging and second natures!

Minions! My disconnected connections, I come to you in contemplation. It is so easy to forget the reasons that drive us and fall into patterns, animosities, cycles of love, hate and revenge over things we couldn't have cared less about had we remembered the reasons! Perfection is a great driving force, but it's never a result, and being fair might be the most subjective cause for humans, but it can be as simple as do unto others what you would have them do unto you! Finding resonance in our anti people is a very hard thing to do, but when achieved can burst open incredible new spaces in our hearts.

About spring bugs, old mosques, and the warm and fuzzy!

Minions! My swarms of warm and fuzzy, I come to you in the light of a revelation. Man thought up restrictions are always the reason why most of us miss out on life. To shrink the radiance of a hug to human arms is absurd. The surge of love and happiness of a hug can be felt in an old building's silent smiling embrace, in nature's filling up one's surroundings, in being swallowed in a swarm of insects or birds, or even in the silent, knowing and deceptively far look of a friend in on the joke! Life's embraces come in many many shapes and forms.... and to truly enjoy them all one sometimes needs to loosen one's grip on molecules. Beyond physics or chemistry, beyond Xs and Ys, beyond humans..... the sooner we realize that we are not the centre or the source, the more we get to see!

About Stars, patterns, and waking up!

Minions! My barely tangible masses of cosmic matter... I come to you today in awe! Of all the variables of the matrix, you my wee ones came to be, and of all the variables I found you along with all my other peoples. To see beyond the nights, to see into mornings like this, to let up, go and in, to experience brilliance from within and above all to see the miracle of regeneration as it truly is.. a miracle! I am truly blessed to be aware of my pinch of stardust and the all the universe inside.

About realities, denial and compromise!

Minions! My sanest push to the brink of sanity.... I come to you today bewildered. From behind the curtains everything seems hazy and out of place, yet without them the sharpness of colours doesn't leave you unscathed! Because red can burn, black can weigh one down, grey can confuse, yellow can hurt, blue can weaken, and green... even green can overwhelm! Minions, I need your protection without losing sight. Guide me through, with fully seeing eyes and resolute faith, I await you.

About points of overlapping and entity's perception!

Minions! My fleeting trances into balance, I come to you spilling over and in need of containing. There are days when I feel like I want the forests of this earth as my carpets, the volcanoes as my fireplace. Days when every living thing feels as though it is a loved kin of mine, when I feel like I can speak all the noises in the world, cry all the oceans, breath all the air and build up all the mountains! Days like this one it feels as though I have enough space to gulp up the planet and all that dwells on it if I just release my mouth! Days like today! I need your absorbing stabilization sooner rather than later please, come take my excess and let be in peace.

About internal watching, perception and air!

Minions! I come to you today as your unnerved observer... you, my minions, sometimes expand so vastly that it feels like a whole multiverse of chemistry could bubble up inside and yet sometimes you huddle in so closely, and shrink into each other so minutely that I can almost swear I'm seeing black holes forming! How is it that you are a small imagined part of a small insignificant creature, and yet you can hold the entirety of the world leaving no room for anything but a bit of air?! In what dimension could you possibly reside in between my fleeting connections, I wonder... Till I know what I could not live to tell, I will continue being your unnerved observer.

About nostalgia, life friends and growing up!

Minions! My frail blobs of steel.... I come to you today as my eternal disguise of appreciation. Through the eyes of all that's still we are moving and yet through my eyes, in our motion, every still has gained its own precipitating accumulative changes. The cold ice cream of the winter may not be the cold hail of the winter before or the silent walk of the winter in between, but minions; it is the same significant little cherished adventure. The ever changing streets with the million different molecules of tar that went into it and out over and over again, and the million shops that lived and died over the years still feel like the same still home that watched us grow! The people that used to belong to our conversations died and new ones came, but the conversations are the same somehow.. the clothes, the minds, the granted all changed yet feels familiar... Maybe belonging my minions does not need constants, maybe belonging is simply whatever makes sense. You belong to me like I to you... and thus you to my people like I to them.

About the small fights inside the box!

Minions!! Break free! I am asking you to give me the key to these binds and break me free.. free from the levels of walls I have to go through, free from the nonsensical fears, free from fictitious realities, free from my own inadequacies and free from my own definitions of me! Break me free!!

About the matrix and the perks of the sidelines!

Minions!! My fleeting renders of perfect reality... I just come to you today... I'd like you to join me in musing about the fine lines of our existence, how a million tiny choices can lead to different paths or no path at all.. how the jokes of yesterday can quickly grow into the bitter realities of today, and how perfection is the most fragile state a thing could possibly be, just because it's perfect! I'd like you to be my companions in silent watching of the world go by, and trying to decipher its absurdity, all the while not regretting the exclusivity of the seat but rather enjoying the view and the safety of our place.

About inner strength, and the cold waters!

Minions.... my ethereal vestiges of a higher self and physical ties to a higher calling, I come here today to pay you some overdue respects! You are the ones who keep me going, discovering, and venturing. You are the ones who provide me with the bridges, the courage pills, the oars to paddle right out of my comfort zone and the words to thoroughly live there and not regret! You, my minions, are the tiny significant walks that make the path worth walking... so thank you for allowing me to live within and by you. Aishiteru!

About social awkwardness, the stern and efforts!

Minions... my preserving remnants of sanity, I come to you jaded. With dead ends much like a toy car that keeps rebounding off a wall to hit it again, I seek you out to help me burn a path through! If it was only me and you dearest minions, I wouldn't have to wait, to understand, or to fret the inconsistencies of this place, but it is not, and as such I do. Contain me in your bubbles of serenity for a little while and then help me move.

About the physical perception and the chemical mess!

Minions!! It's been a while my floating shapeless figures of speech.... I come to you in hopes of removing my mind's feet out of this gelatinous mess of feed. It is as though a quick sand of contradictions expanding with no end in sight, from a head impossibly filled with worlds to a throat filled with lumps to a chest void of air leaving almost no space for my heart to encapsulate the emotions of the very first mind stuck in a gelatinous mess. Untangle me and use my spaces to soar even higher within, I anxiously await you. 

About words, sticks, stones and debts!

Minions!! Gather around my finest grains of existence, I seek you out today to be a cradle that fears not the cuts of the shards. The taboos of our Pandora's box have been broken, and their fragmented aftermath is so very cruel! It is in my frantic moments that I need your stillness, and with the buckling of my metaphor that I need your pull. Shape your shapelessness into a cover and engulf my metaphor till it heals... your favours are forever and always the only ones that free me rather than not.

About internal surprise, fear and bubbles of extreme!

Dearest minions, my particles of crumbled wholeness, today I come as your comrade in arms not your puzzle of constructions, I come confiding into the comfort of you as me. You have been expanding to the extent that can withhold the limitless stars and matter into your seemingly limited entities, you have been ebbing with no flow in sight, and yet no consequences or near visions of mortality either..... I thank you for that, I salute you for that, and more, maybe most, importantly I warn you, and in essence me, of that! Much, if not all, of my fear and love to you dearest, I have faith in you....

About definitions, searching and turning in!

Minions!! Gather around me my dearest fragments of non-existent blobs. I talk to you today, not as your core, but as your dependent extension; you are very much needed to light up a spark, to form a split of a sign, to open a crack in a door. Though you are formless in essence you have to frame a reality into clearer view. Rise to the occasion my minions and the occasion shall raise you with it. I'm, with utter faith, waiting.

About the path, Steve Jobs and setbacks!

My minions, my sweetest tiny fragments of xzibit-ian circles, today I urge you to share with me my growing respect to those who can whisk their fantasies into hard felt physical beings, it is not only moving forward that should be recognized as victories and fortunes of fate; the truly victorious are those who recognized moving in every direction as a freeing path. I have with amazed and amused train of thought recognized the undeniable fact that we know the names of those who decided to move upwards by heart, that a man who did nothing of novel nature but the same in a sideways track departed as an idol and that by merely bringing a talking mouse into life one could become a legend. Minions always keep moving whereverwards until we find our pulling upwards, it is only through breaking we are able to make.

About bugs, plans, earth and Allah!

It is to my minions that I direct this special piece of late night rambling. My dearest tiny minions, my floating rhombic beings of thought; it is to the deepest depth of a green haven you depart and I with you, to enjoy a violet haze is within our grasp and to truly love beyond the foretold ways of man is our chosen path. We are not bound by just humans, only pre-acknowledged ups or "naturally" forsaken beings. We belong to one and only when we're fully within him that me and you my precious are truly free.