a daylight dream

I could hear the dawn prayer calling resonating against the vacant town, all voices hidden underneath sheaths of dreams and soundless sleeps. However, I wake rather diligently, tapping into consciousness, my first sensation the coldness within my skin, numbing my feet completely. And it being mid December, I find it quite dark to call it a morning and I’m skeptical whether to leave those comfortable layers of sheets above me to carry on with that they called a day. I turn around in my place, and your face is facing the other side and I cannot see your closed eyes and morning hair, all tousled and messy, so I carefully touch your feet with mine, and they’re soft and cold like Antarctic ice. I smile, remembering us joking that we terribly failed in reaching the standards of having both of us to keep ourselves warm, and we had believed our closeness would cure the chill out of our bodies but it seemingly didn’t help. I eventually get up, drawing the blinds to find daybreak gr

I always ask myself: can I do more? The answer is not always “yes”, for some days, I feel like I’m doing well enough; my studies, teaching, writing poetry and stories, enhancing my photography and keeping up with this blog. On those days, I usually feel the acceleration of change, the force of freshness bustling into my life that keeps me motivated and eager to push past those opportunities. But other days like today, the answer is: “yes, I can do much more.” When I hear stories around me of people doing their best to achieve and break free from the surrounding restraints, I’m thrilled to do the same. But so often, I don’t know how. I don’t know how to take my opportunities past their level to open up new doors of possible dreams. Sometimes I think, I really want to be a known writer, or a blogger, or even be able to write regular articles to a magazine or a popular online platform. What about finding myself another job? Or perhaps going more in my current one? What about

Of a broken heart, I slept yesternight. Lone and lust, up a hill. Lost my balance, Into smithereens, I turned and rose, Layers above. From down below,   The winds were a breeze. They blew silently, Paleness in my cheeks, Rustling leaves, Paths, I trailed. Yet skyward, The winds are a torrent, Numbing me, Completely. They take me, I thought I was lost, But what am I, Now? I learn to cope, To stay present. Feel the clouds, Glazed by sunsets, Toppling somewhere, Transforming a mindset. I learn to rule, To lead, A kingdom in a realm, Tame me in my wildest scheme, That no one ever sees. Need not I you, For you give me nothing, Respect shall suffice, Your love, unnoticed, Reality sounds clearer, Resonating deeper, Purposes of achievers, Like ones before me, Shall be my symphony, Your wails I need not, Comprehend. Of a broken heart, I thrive tonight. In my bed I sleep, Winds airing my

From today, Earth will rotate more vividly and evidently. With every passing week, I shall consider putting on more layers on my skin to keep me warm and comfortable. Mornings will become darker, but I shall be there whilst the sun rises, colourises the sky, adding chromatic expectations for what is to come during the shorter days and longer nights. It is November, and a fear is tingling the edge of my spine, questioning my abilities to cope with the cold and the captivating darkness. Also, there is a shallow sceptic disbelief in how I’ll manage to reclaim my health and leave that vicious cycle of relapses for good. But oh, leaving that all behind, November looks brutally hopeful again; the clouds are approaching carrying more than just vapour, but providing the world with a cooler shade of colours, which makes the skies and infinite numbers of azimuths less blue and more foggy and uncertain. But oh, let that be. Let November be. Just as we should all let ourselves be,

Never did I ever attempt to think of breaking the rules or even believe they didn’t have to apply to me. I was always the conformist by nature, though inwardly resisting its significance. But you, keeping up with me, sparking my hidden humour with every day that passes by, makes me want to challenge the world. The passion has grown slowly yet evidently and I have to keep reminding myself to act mature and self-sufficient. But isn’t it so hard to keep up with those ridiculous reminders when I’m spending the sacred hours of the unearthly moments with you, in my dreams? Oh the things I could do to see you, and you, as well. You’re more than just your words and promises, which you take no time to translate. But I’m used to taking my time with my dreams and make-beliefs, formulating those many promises and making them to myself before anyone. And, it has taken me so much time and effort, dear, this you ought to know. But now, I want to promise you so many things, but I no longe

Today, I’ve decided to silence a lot of voices, and the air when silenced is much clearer, alluring and just happier. I was working on silencing my anxiety, which came out of nowhere these last two weeks. As you probably know, I’m quite occupied this year with my double teacher-assistance jobs and my sophisticated university courses.. What really brought me to the edge was the fact that I was falling behind studies, which didn’t happen for like years. This makes me realise how perfectionistic my life was, and it created those unrealistic standards I had to live up to in order to reach the comfort zone, where fear and worry melted away. But this year, I’m more challenged to actually fall behind, but go ahead in building myself up in different, more beneficial ways. It’s what those voices failed to acknowledge. A few days ago, I was fatigued; had coffee for the first time in two months to stop me from yawning, raced alongside my heart beats and restless thoughts. It got to t

Coming back from Poland, I thought I’d be coming back to the memories I had left when I took that airplane and fled. In the airplane, I visualised myself running away from it all; my room, balcony, the heat, the ignorant society, monotony.. etc. I thought these were the things that were making my life often lacklustre and at times, miserable. I thought it was that I didn’t feel at home in Egypt, even though I had spent 11 years of my life here, making memories, building dreams, meeting people.. living, in general. The days before I came back from this summer vacation, I was dreading my return. I felt as if all my monsters would creep up to me again and turn my life into living hell since I was already primitively exposing myself to the concept of positivity and self-care, taking one small step at a time. Coming back to Egypt, I assumed, was going to collapse all my efforts and lead me back to square one. However, quite the contrary occurred. The first day was rough, an

16.12.2015 “Dear journal, Winter is cruel to me, I thought you ought to know that. It deliberately creeps into the inside of my bones and finds its shelter between the tissues that surround them.. I have no idea how, but I’d like to find out. I’m occupied by study these days, as you can see. Oh, and I drank coffee for the first time in like 5 months to give me energy to survive until 8 pm studying. My eyes didn’t droop today but it’s the vindictive chill that buries my handwriting and urges me to hide my skin under an insulator. I’m really tempted to build s fire next to my desk to blaze me s little.. hmm.. why am I always so cold? I think I’ll sleep in a while but I promised myself to write one 2016 resolution and it is: Self-compassion. I want to accept, embrace my physical and spiritual self and embed them within a deeper identity-related meaning. I am Soraya. I want to open up my self to love and peace of the soul and the body. I want to be the soul God cou

I’d like to wake up one morning and find the room dim and quiet, something other than your breaths echoing back and forth. You turn in your position, and we are face-to-face, your eyes closed, creating dreams in a headspace I tell myself I don’t know, for you are inscrutable in every way imaginable, and every day I get to know you better and better.. But you are changing everyday, but in a good way. A way that helps us grow, thrive, expand. I am wearing your t-shirt, and I confidently slip from the covers, heading towards the balcony, drawing the blinds open. The sun is rising on the eastern coast, and the clouds are accumulating near the horizon, and a faint line of light is bidding the sea, before it goes on, extending its bounds, renewing its dimensions. Slowly as not to wake you, I find myself sneaking into the balcony, greeting the breeze, thanking it for every shiver that trills across my bare skin, the hair bouncing in joy, my lips tilting to the side, forming a

My career choices are starting to loom into my mind, and they’re starkly adorned with well-built judgements based on experience and study. I’ve been working as a teacher assistant for almost a year now, and I’ve grown to become particularly partial to becoming, somehow, a teacher. I’m working full days this year, and I get to see the life of a teacher closely; their routines, attitudes and behaviours. I see myself in the idealist version of what it takes to be a teacher; the complete empathy, shimmering optimism, support and unconditional mentorship. The career itself requires so many traits I already believe I have, though I need time to let them develop more steadily and righteously. some of the things I like to see at school. :) The empathy required is quite astounding, with every single task throughout the day. Every student is like a customised book of life, and you’ve got to handle it with great care, extreme personalisation yet a fair equity. I admire the way t