Pride. Everyone has it. Everyone. But sometimes, you might forget. C'est la vie.

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I'm overworked, underpaid, under-appreciated and unintelligible. But somehow, I feel blessed. Wonder why....

I'm tired, so fucking tired.

I do not know how to say this besides how it is. A guitar string broke today. The 6th. It seems to be a sign of impending doom in my pursuit to conceive a skill in creating music. Sure, there are 5 more strings, but each does not signify a life; 5 out of 6. You need all 6 to play it. Instead it is now 1 piece short of a whole and thus cannot live on. Of course it can be repaired, but this begs the question: will it be the same as before? The horror of it breaking and its repetition continues to torment me. I've put the guitar aside. Not wishing to see the damage even though it already has burnt itself a hole in my head. There is no hurry, there is time, I tell myself rather unconvincingly. I will take care of it another day. Procrastination, you might call it, pessimists would refer to it as delaying the inevitable.

Dear God, give me strength.

Every single endeavour we undertake, out of passion and not our abnormal human quirks, we perform with the slight consciousness that it would affect the future of our genetic line. We seek knowledge, we pray and preach, we take risks with our wealth and our lives, not for any rational self-benefit but with hope that the descendants of our kind may live in a better world. We fight our wars, of strengths and wit, we conserve life, preserving nature's best and it is too hard to simply point these as altruistic acts in our endless desire to prove that there are better ways to live. We save, engineer, innovate, do it all, for the kids. Tell a mother that she needs to die for her child to live and she will not hesitate for a moment. But tell the same mother that her child needs to die to save others and the task would be gauged for much longer. We make similar choices everyday, if you think about it. The question is, are we trying too hard? We try to believe that providing our future generation with entities of which we ourselves did not enjoy in our time would enrish their lives. Are they? And is there such a thing as trying too hard? Right now, I think the real challenge is merely getting through the day.

empty . every conversation sucks me dry . words free of emotion . why do you insist . why do you toy

Time, the only true fluid
that exists on this world.
The only thing that flows
and flows, and flows.
Yet we attempt to stall
this force with mere thoughts,
memories embedded in
our hearts and mind.
Images captured in episodes of jest.
Life divided, as you remember
time you had your first/
time you had your last/
time that broke you down/
time that you were lifted up/
time you took that step/
time you had to step back/
time to strive/
time to sacrifice/
time to forget/
time to cherish/
time to speak up/
time to listen/
time to reflect/
time to forget/
time to move on.

I had a thought today. And you know how powerful thoughts can be. It can fill your mind with such joy, brilliance, or hatred. Waiting for my afternoon class, I had felt an awful feeling at the pit of my stomach, as cliché-d as this sounds. I was agitated, my mind was going in leaps, skipping the important parts that could have let me in the loop. No reason, at least none I could figure out. It was a perfectly normal day, as normal as any Tuesday could be. There I was on the 3rd or 4th storey and I looked down below and wondered what it would feel like...
Acquaintances pass me by and I could only give a polite smile to mask myself. I felt dry. A change of view only allowed my imagination to grow. Will I just hurt myself or will I go the whole way? I mean, is this how those people felt...before they did it. Huh..here I go again separating myself..us and them. The mistake people like to make is that 'they' who had done it were ill. They were deranged, beyond helping. They had a motive. But what if you didn't need one. Not an excuse, not a justification. Just because you felt like it. Cause I felt it then. Or I merely thought I did. I'm here aren't I. Was I stronger than I thought...or is it the other way round?

I look into the mirror, and see changes that have confounded my visage, minute traces of me have  disappeared each day i wake. Who is this person staring blankly back at me? I see lines, blemishes, contours, unfamiliar. He raises his hand to the glass and I mimic him. Who are you I ask? No expression. His voice pervades my mind, much too easily.

"We're the same, you and I," His voice does not falter. "Same face, same body..the same 10 fingers, same matching toes...same voice, same heart, same mind. I am you. And you are me."

I feel the hatred in the recesses of my soul gather might...pushing, pulsating through my veins...through my heart, through my mind and he sees it too. Arm cocked, I thrust my fist into the reflection. The deafening silence of the moment does not filter the sound of glass in its agony of breaking. My sight goes black as I feel my skin tear, flood of crimson pours onto the surface. I stand there, drips of blood on the tiled floor. Knuckles feel the fever of hurt. Now there's not one, but an infinite number of him on the pieces of mirror left, and on the pieces on the floor. They laugh, mockingly at the despair they see in my eyes. And I join them. What else can i do? What else is there?

Stranger M.Rushdy

The Day The World Moved Without Me

• 1 call
• the book
• sway
• wet peapod
• watermelon kids
• icy-cool ride
  
• coffee doesn't keep me awake for Nobody
  
• white belts and fashion sense
  
• fucilli
• metro
  
• words unspoken
• Wanda
• dictation
• lost (and found)
• 1 call
  

It has relatively been a good year. And my new year's resolution has been the same for a while. Well, it hasn't failed on me yet. So here's to the new year. Cheers!