a daylight dream

I love that this love is a secret. Unbeknownst to ridicule, conversations and dialogue. Something that was meant for just you and me, something a little bit more than stolen glances and broken smiles. Something just a little bit more than that. Because it's a little secret in my mind, making me acknowledge that the world is easier to fight with you devotedly by my side. Inside, with the little cloud of understanding you allow to linger, it's easier to know that I'm alright, that some things were meant to take their time, and that strength is the only thing that can keep me from adding insult to injury in this troubled path of mine. And I know it's meant to stay a secret for a while still. Even in a long time, an eternal part of our story will be a secret. On pictures, we are just glamorous, laughing, adventurous people but never have I ever before known that just a gaze from eye to eye can emit messages a million light-years would never dare to try with. And our gaze is

Today, I turn 22. I can't believe a year had passed since turning 21 for, in retrospect, I could count the milestones of my 21st year on my fingertips. I must say it was one of those tumultuous, spiraling years. My 21st wasn't calm and kind, but pressuring and alerting. Every day was some kind of wake up call of some sort, shedding some light upon what I keep ignoring. But I won't talk too much about my 21st year now that I have a whole year to dream of. Oh, it's going to be so intricately different in every way possible! I might be graduating soon, working as an English teacher for fifth graders, and experiencing this very new and bright beginning. I have been thinking of this day since high school, and I must say none of those sleepless nights were taken for granted. All of the puzzle pieces are starting to fit now, all of those unattached passions and ideas have come to know their place and I'm quite ready to start fathoming the bigger picture. It's

I have written about emptiness perennially, over and over again until I memorized how it felt like to have a heart that is chipping off, rusting, losing its glowing vitality, leaving the inside unprotected and vulnerable. I took my time feeling this pain. The accomplice was surprisingly anger, frustration, and hatred. I did feel hate towards so many things in my life; the neighbors which made no effort to beautify the block we live in, the dreary governmental decisions and bureaucracy, the monotony in our home, and the outbursts of aggression I have to deal with almost every day. I spent some days completely silent, talking only when necessary, slowing down every moment, aggravating the pain, and strengthening its accompanying, infuriating narratives. But then, I chose to be grateful, not only for the things I have but the things I don't have at the moment. I chose to believe in a future in which I have everything I currently lack; family, close friends, adventures, pr

All along, it was always about the little things. Eyes waking up to a welcoming, loving beam of sunlight. The feeling of being at home, right where you belong. The taste of crystal water. The steam ascending from a warm tea in a mug caressed gently by your fingers. It's the sound of footsteps in your home. The simple conversations in sleepy tones. It's the ideas to make the day a glimpse of heaven. Saying good morning to smiling passers-by. Walking with a dance in your step, eyes looking upwards to a clouded sky glimmering with beaming sunshine, or perhaps rain descending from monstrous, grey clouds. It's always about the present moment, and never about the past or future. It's not about the next big thing; the restlessness, the hours spent constructing ways to escape, to get better, stronger, happier . It's knowing that there is a bigger picture you're on your way towards, but there is no reason to rush it. Today is good as it is.   Perh

I woke up this morning to a wave of sweltering heat in the room, despite having the AC on at night. My dad dashed out of the room, sighing, releasing his tension with a couple of loud exhales. I took a deep breath and walked to the balcony, finding the horizon blurred by strong sun rays that have moved a misty veil and bickered it to ascend and disrupt the blueness of the sky. It's summer. I don't mind the heat, I must admit I actually revel in it. Spending the day with light clothes on, drinking lots of water, snacking on crisp fruits throughout the day never fails to soothe my heart. Yet, I woke up feeling quite down. It's okay, isn't it? We all have those days.   Because I'm reading this really remarkable book which is teaching me to connect to my inner child and most genuine parts of who I am, I decided to have a conversation with my little self. I asked her why she felt bad and I was astounded by what she told me. She told me she misses the

I was walking home after our run with my dad, the sunshine was warm and just right for a late-May morning. We engaged in a fruitful conversation about love and found ourselves asking:  is love enough? At once, I saw this visual in my head. A vision of a crystal ornament shattered into a thousand pieces on the ground and a mystical, invisible force rearranging all the pieces mid-air and bringing the ornament to its original, whole shape. We all know that once things are broken, there isn't any way to stick the pieces back together and at the same time have a shape that is free of cracks, gaps, and imperfections. There isn't a way back to wholeness once things get broken. There isn't a super-glue which can bring perfection back again to life, not once things are completely destroyed. But is that true for our hearts? I mean, they get broken all the time. We feel shattered, lost, fragmented many times a life, but in some magical way, some of us find themselves on t

This Ramadan was unprecedentedly different for us all, a month we had to spend exploring different modes of living, doing things at different times, filling our hours with activities we aren't used to. It was different for me, too, and there are things which I've adopted and learned that I'd like to take with me, beyond Ramadan, onto a new beginning. I started this month with crossed fingers. I had clear intentions and nothing but that to start my month. I depended on the universe for helping me out, since Ramadan is not always that beautiful and mystical for my family becayse we deal with loneliness, long days and pointless hours to get by with. With all the difficult news I was receiving, motivating myself day by day to do the best I could with what I had, there was no way out but through the present moment of today . Even when the day was too long, all I had to do was pick up my notes and learn, call my sister and my friends, engage in conversations and go the d

Yesterday, I finally received some news which I was waiting for restlessly since, without it, I would be so unsure of my future. Since it's my last year in university, it's a requirement for me to take my exams, and they were just being delayed and delayed and delayed. I thought for sure, I'd be over with it by mid-June, like any other year. I prayed and prayed and hoped and dreamed just to keep myself hopeful, to keep myself going. Yesterday was the day I knew that I'll be examined in July. The news weighed me down as soon as I heard it. My face turned pale and ghostly and I kept thinking about how painstakingly trialing it would be. To spend a month in Egypt? At home? Waiting? That's exactly what I was not born to do:  wait . For a moment I was going to isolate myself and lock my mind in the darkness of it all. But, I decided to be vulnerable with one of my dearest friends. We talked and rambled and found opportunities. I talked about my anxieties

There is a lonely place that I call my heart and it loves everything it sets its intention upon. This heart which endured years and years of fighting and surrendering, breaking and healing, experiencing magic, filling its gal with faith but then letting it go all again. There is a lonely place which I call my heart that loves you tonight. It thinks of you and wonders whether the future will have enough space for both of us. I look back at myself and question whether I'm a jewel in your eyes. I wonder if you'd look into my heart and fight the way through the obstacles life will throw in our way. I wonder if you'll feel my hands in yours and have faith that we will go through this together instead of far apart. This heart of mine is filled with question marks because it always wants to know, and once it does, it tries to find yet more questions to answer. Somehow, looking into your soul mystifies me with a deep mystery that I won't ever be intelligent enough

The past couple of days have been slow, mostly and imperfectly present, a redemption towards more stillness and peace. Less time on the Internet, more time spent decorating my study notes, more time spent praying, connecting with friends and staring at a blank page of a new chapter, writing down a few pages or one, or a sentence or not at all. It feels regenerative to accept my imperfection and deem it as wholesome. Today was also my last day of online work. I wasn't expecting to be let go until the end of May or even June, but under the light of the current circumstances, less is definitely more for many organisations. It felt searingly painful to acknowledge that I won't earn any money or do something valuable for others for a very long time, and it even got me to feeling a little bit anxious and not enough. But, a few deep breaths later, I knew I was enough. I was grateful for this opportunity hidden behind this setback and I felt my original sense of resilience, on