Red Room Where the Writers Are

 

Well I feel pretty much guilty for not getting around to writing as much as before , but I thought instead of having so many unfinished pieces laying around in the computer i’d put them all in one blog and may be the comments I ’d get back would help me finish them off ... very sorry for the confusion :

 

#1  Curiosity killed the cat 

 

“ Who do you think they are ???” I questioned my cousin.

  “i don’t care “ she said while looking around hopelessly. 

“where the hell is my mom???” I shrugged my shoulders partly because I really don’t know and also because I was dying to know who they were . My guesses are usually in their place but this ... this isn’t like anything I’ve seen before . As i slowly limped through the huge lobby I looked around to get a final glance of the people that were still there by midnight , of course I saw tourists sitting at the bar .. each one with his room key hanging from his pocket. From the first glance I thought they were huge body builders that were dressed in tuxes and thought that today was triplets day. Surly I was half a sleep but you don't see this every day . I looked again , this time opening my eyes till my eyebrows ... on a second though I think they are body guards. Sure but the question is whose ?!

“oui oui mamon ... je sai .... bof quesque te panse>??” my cousin mumbled in french on the phone . My cousin was never much of a friendly person when she wasn’t in the mood . so I stepped off and let her claws come out .  Anyhow , back to the subject. Yeah , the body guards . Whose where they ? Gosh why did I have to have such annoying curiosity . I’m the kind of person that if I’m sitting in a restaurant I’d like to know what everybody was talking about. Well not EVERYBODY , but just the cute ones . The fact that a five exhausting hour party just finished was enough to make a person simply tired , But the fact that I had had only 3 hours of sleep last night wasn’t . I could barley open my eyes . But you know me even if I hadn't had any sleep for the past week and was dying out of sickness and of a disease where you can’t open your eyes after midnight I would still open them even if i had to use chopsticks and a bit of elastics-An old method we used to use as kids-. Any ways I heard a thick voice come up behind me , and say “sorry , you dropped this...”. I was dying to look back , but I had promised my self I was going to become less nosy . “Ahhh , what the hell ? A little peek wont hurt !” I thought to my self .

 

#2 Diary 

 

Have you ever felt like you feel guilty for being sad , mad , depressed ?!

well I have , and I can honestly say ,it’s not the best feeling in the world.

How can I be sad , mad , depressed  ? How can I cry ? When this girl that sits by me in class mom’s died a couple weeks ago and she’s fine , laughing , smiling , living normally not one frown , not one tear ?. I seriously feel guilty for worrying about my little stupid problems , that may seem like the smallest problems on earth comparing to so many people. 

I’m in the car .. listing to music .. feeling sad that this guy doesn’t like me back ... we stop at a red light . I un carelessly look to my right , expecting to see just another person in another car worrying their worries away. but instead I see a view that hasn’t left my mind since . An old guy , a beggar , sitting on the side of the street holding his child between his arms and weeping . at first look i thought it might be a baby , but when i looked more carefully I noticed it was a boy just about my age , but sadly with no legs . his father had rapped him in a blanket just like an infant and held him close weeping. I quickly glanced over to the dash board . I could feel my tears running up my eyes . I noticed something that broke my heart even more . The temperature outside was 3 centigrade . The poor old man and his son had torn off clothes on . I thanked god for the blessings that I lived in. I couldn't help but feel totally sad , depressed for them . 

 

How do i find my worries big ?! I’ll never know . But till this day , weeks later I feel guilty for feeling sad. unfortunately that feeling adds more stress to me . I feel like some kind of ADD possessed person repeating consciously and unconsciously the phrase “ You can’t be sad , you’re worries are small , compare your self to other people, you can’t be mad , you have no right to have any emotions other than laughter , happiness and joy” over and over in my head. I think that this is the reason behind me feeling like I'm about to have a nervous break down today.

 

I felt the need to cry , the need to shout , the need to jump , the need to weep , the need to run , the need to relax , the need to sleep. the need to get intoxicated .I felt like i had so much worries and problems like hoes people you see in movies that just get wasted because of how upset they are. but I just took a moment to my self and said “ What is so big and upsetting that can’t be solved ?!” and as I whisperly answered my self back “Nothing” I knew right that moment that I was back to normal again .

 

 

 

#3 Random thoughts 

 

 

Who am I  ?

Why am I important to this universe ?

What’s my purpose in life ?

How do I improve this world ?

 

Well I can assure you that I can’t answer these questions yet . I’m a person in the making , or so I hope . To be more precise I’m just another 14 year old living in syria , trying to have a social life and to pass school . Well or something like that . I don’t know who I am ? I’m serious . It’s not that I’m the daughter of an EX president that make people like me . It’s not that I’m rich that people like me either. Well lets just say I’m not even sure that people like me after all , But I do my best to be nice. I’m not miss “popular” , and I’m not miss “genius” either . I’m not the class clown , and I’m not the computer freak . So in other words I don’t know what am I . I’m different that’s for sure , cause I don’t usually get along with many people . I don’t make great first impressions . I  over think things usually . And I have weird mood swings. 

Usually when people move many schools they expect them to have many friends , but not me . I just kept moving , kept suffering . Well its not like i don't have any friends but not really close ones . Sure I have friends that would say hi , call from time to time ( usually when they want something ) , urm hang out rarely . But that’s about it. My mum keeps consolidating me by saying that all of this is simply cause I’m more mature , more deep , at least I hope so . You know what would be hilarious ? if even by the time I reach college I still have no friends  , then it would be a little to late to recognize that the fault is mine , not theirs .