Friday, August 7, 2009

Sometimes


5:23 am in the morning, I was tossing and turning in my bed. I was so tired but I couldn't go to sleep! I had a migraine and a tummy ache and yet my insomnia was kicking in. My fingers were itching to write something. So I pulled out my big blue notebook and wrote something for the story I'm working on.
I know it's bad, and needs editing, but it shall do for now. Here it is:

[pssst! in case you didn't read the one I posted before, go here]



Sometimes I feel trapped by what others expect of me. Every move I make has to add up to the carefully painted characters I have fabricated; a different me for every different person I meet.

It might sound complicated, but it is actually a matter of simple mathematics. Here's how you do it: analyze the person you want to impress, add all the parts that will make you desirable to them, subtract all the parts that don't, and voilĂ  – there you have it.

But it is also a matter of simple chemistry, and - just like in chemistry - some equations are reversible. You think you're only heading in one direction: the end products.
Little do you know that another reaction is simultaneously taking place, quietly simmering in your insides, turning your end products back into their original reactants, until you reach a point of equilibrium.

But to every rule, there is an exception.

And, surprise surprise, that little exception is me.

Because every night when I lay on my bed, waiting for sleep to creep up on me, that equilibrium is gone, and I am stuck with nothing but the lies I have told, the ugliness, the emptiness - the original reactants, with none of the fascinating chemistry that created the desirable "me."

I tell myself,

There are so many people right now in my life, and they're all very different.
They all bring out different sides of me.


I tell myself,

I am not being hypocritical; I am not 32-faced – This is just human nature.
Different people have different opinions, different personalities, and different ways of accepting things. And so I expose different parts of me and keep others somewhere close to my heart for later use.

I am not lying to anyone.

My heart still feeds on those precious secrets that I haven't told anyone of, and that's why I keep them there.

Once they are gone, I am exposed, raw, unmasked – and I don't think that what I am at the core is all that pretty.
I am not sure if something still exists under all these layers of personalities I've created.
Once they are gone, I have nothing.
Once they are gone, I am nothing.

When I told you that my heart feeds on my secrets, I was only telling you half the truth.
My secrets feed on my heart, too.

The more I keep to myself, the more alive I feel.
But also, sadly, ironically – the less alive I am.

Maybe I am not lying to anyone.
But I am lying to myself - if I still classify as a human being anyway.


Because no, it is not human nature to have two MSN conversations at the same time and feel like I'm two people at once; trying to live up to the separate images I've created of myself.

Some people see me exactly how I want to be seen: Funny, clever, social, maybe even okay-looking.

And some people see me exactly how I don't want to be seen: jealous or arrogant, a loser or a freak, a misfit or a conformist.

But in the end – Everybody sees me.

So why can't I see myself?

***

I slowly drift awake, and I don't know where I am, or who I am. My view is fuzzy, and painfully, blindingly white.

Am I dead?

But there is a dull, throbbing pain in my head, and somehow it is hard to believe I am lucky enough to be that.

Pictures begin to fill my head: a woman grabbing me by my hair, a woman kicking me, a woman smiling coldly at me, and a little, still, blue-faced girl.

That woman is my mother, I realize.
That girl is my little sister – or was, because she is no longer with us. She is in a better place, I've been told. Why can't we trade places?

I am Laila.

Except I don't feel like Laila at the moment. But then again – when have I? Will I ever?

I don't know who I am.
Or what I am.
Except stuck.
Stuck in this drugged body on a hospital bed.
A body that doesn't feel like my own.
A body that doesn't belong to me, and a body that I don't belong to.

Maybe because I don't want to.

Who is Laila? Where has she gone? Why has she left me behind?

All of a sudden, I am filled with rage.
Rage at myself.
Rage at my mother.
Rage at the God that gave me a life when I don't recall ever asking for one; then tells me that I can't take it way, nor give it back.
No refunds.
Especially when the currency you've exchanged with is grief.
------





So what do you think?
Tell me how I can make it better, please!






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19 comments:

LUMBERZACK said...

I loved it. Definitely better than any of my pathetic writings.
I'm glad you're feeling some better, buddy!

Wuthering said...

This could never be better than it is right now. I think I need to read everything you write for ever and ever!

The whole thing is terribly clever.

The following paragraph I thought particularly brilliant:

Because every night when I lay on my bed, waiting for sleep to creep up on me, that equilibrium is gone, and I am stuck with nothing but the lies I have told, the ugliness, the emptiness - the original reactants, with none of the fascinating chemistry that created the desirable "me."


I also commented on the first part.

Unknown said...

Oh wow, I really really loved this post. :) And ya know, I am LOVING your blog. Procrastination is unfortunately one of my weak points, aghhhh.

Am following! Be sure and pop by & leave a note and follow! :) It would make my day.

Unknown said...

Oh wow, I really really loved this post. :) And ya know, I am LOVING your blog. Procrastination is unfortunately one of my weak points, aghhhh.

Am following! Be sure and pop by & leave a note and follow! :) It would make my day.

Anonymous said...

Wonderifulous!! :D Yes, I just made up that word!

Writing wise, this is hard to improve on. Theme wise, well, a bit too dark for my liking! It's the writing that caught me!! But hey, you're not writing for me!

Wonderful WONDERFUL job. I swear, I am NOT exaggerating when I say I feel like I am reading a work of a professional writer! Masha Allah!

PS- you CAN write!
sincerely,
captain obvious!

Anonymous said...

Definitely keeping me interested even if the story of why she feels like this seems a bit vague at the moment, but perhaps you're going with that. (and I guess this isnt like the direct sequel to the first post :P)

Never give up what you believe in. It was beautiful.

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Anonymous said...

I'm hooked. Oooo baby I'm hooked. I might have to sneak a peek at your blue notebook next time I pay you a visit. It's so tempting, just lying there on your bookshelf....

You're amazing. Blow-me-away amazing.

I'm so glad you're finally sharing some of your stuff.

- JJ x

Moondust(: said...

dude--
i liked the first one the most, but this one was just as amazing.
We should work on novels together!
Maybe when we are both out of college, me and you can Move to Ireland and buy a nice little cottege together and become old hermits that write strangely addicting, eye-opening, heart-wrentching words.

you so know you want to.
I love you cousin dear!

Mark said...

That's really mind-blowing amazing. How do you do it? It seems so.. real. How do you put yourself into that mindset?

I'll be first in line waiting to buy that novel!

AJ said...

OSSUMM!

You sure do know how to write! Masha'Allah. Would love to see this character of yours face even more torture... before you spell out the mystery as to what led to these events...

an interestingly mysterious and THRILLING piece! keep up the great work!

Danya A. said...

Zack, thanks buddy! And your writing is anything but pathetic. Pootert.

Wuthering, thank you so much! That really means a lot. And I was about to publish the post without the chemistry thing then it just popped up in my head and I wrote it down quickly. I love analogies :P

Laila, thanks for stopping by! Procrastination will be the end of me, I assure you. And alright I shall do that :]

Ahmed, that's nice of you. Making up words on my expense. I feel so flattered. Too dark for your liking? Okay Mr. Rainbows and Butterflies, I'll post something more lighthearted from the story next time :P Thank you!

Anonymous, haha yes that is what I'm going for. You're just going to have to wait and see :P Thank you. So much.

JJ, open my blue notebook and I'm going to have to kill you. The secrets behind the existence of the universe are in there. What you don't know.... might just kill you.
Okay, in all seriousness, you can't. I'll hide it :P But thank you (=

Moondust, gosh I don't mind. Not a cottage though. A tree home. Ahhhh, bliss. Yes I so want to. Danke, cuz. I love you too!

Mark, weeeellllll I do have a terribly overactive imagination, as I'm sure you're aware of. I exaggerate some of things I experience, and take mental notes of how people behave, and make up little stories about them. Easy peasy. And thanks!

AJ, thank you =) haha don't worry I have big plans for her. If only I didn't procrastinate, this thing would be done already, instead of lurking around in my head. Thanks again x)

Unknown said...

ahahaha, I know what you mean about ruining the movie. SImply hilariousss! I dunno, I just feel like if I am not liking what we're even watching, everyone else should suffer. hahah

Fatima said...

Well.. You know how I feel about your writing so no need to comment on that.

O ana g3d agrah g3d a7s enha shway zayek.. mdri lieh++ lma glti el shay 7ag chemistry t5ayalt abla 3abeer oo lma glti el shay 7ag equilibrium t5ayalt Ms. Hanaa :P

And blue notebook? Why haven't I ever heard about that before? And since this is one of the very countable (3aks countless) ways to communicate with: Eish 9ar 3ala Soug Al-Johara? Lazem nsoweh bsr3a o gabl Rama'6an.

Unknown said...

Ah yes, and I left you an award! Love your blog!!

Unknown said...

new favorite blog, eloquently jolting - i enjoyed going through the thought process with you - touching on aspects of everyone's subconcious, i think...

Anonymous said...

I'm so depressed right now.
Not that this isn't a brilliant post because it is.

Sara said...

Ah Mashallla!I LOVE IT! I like the part about different personalities.. Its soo true...and when u mentioned 2 MSN windows, I dunno bs a7s ana b3d :\..

Amazing post!

Naimah said...

I can't even decide which is better ! It's like they're both equally astonishing. Well duh, you wrote them both haha! yaaaalllaa finish the novel, I wanna read it now!

Naimah said...

Oh and seriously, it's just human nature! Lama u said " a different me for every different person I meet" ana b3d ketha! Trust me. When you ask people about me, they're each going to describe me in very different ways