It’s almost 1 AM, and I sit at my desk at loss of words for what I want to write. A maelstrom of thoughts storm in my mind, leaving me confused and battered as the ebbs of the day sail me to long hours of introspection. This is not a post for me to talk about these political movements that are shaping our world. Nor am I going to talk about how, every day, I feel there is something bigger out there for me to do, to discover, and to shed light on. This time, there will be no rants about nonsense that bothers me every day. And there will be no talk on the meaning of life or uncovering The Truth.
And I won’t sit here and talk about how terribly hypocritical I feel about going to eat sushi in Dubai when my own parents in Syria probably have little to go by on (and they’d never say). I won’t talk about how many times I’ve cried reading the news and how many texts and phone calls are beings written and made to make sure my friends and family are OK. There is really little point in expressing how difficult it is to go to work every day, to study, to go to gym, to do some photography work, and pretend and live life as though nothing is going on, because life is going on for me as it is for everyone in Syria and Palestine and every place in the world where a rocket falls.
Complaining about how little time there is to get anything done and have time for myself is something I’ve discussed many times and still fail to grow the balls to say “no” to things and pay attention to myself. And talking about all the “inconveniences” of life is really just arrogance because there are a billion things I forget to be thankful for and all these “inconveniences” are imposed or self-imposed perceptions.
Saying “sick and tired” and being sick and tired of being sick and tired really will not solve anything.