the mind of a self-proclaimed كنداكة


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Entry #6: thoughts vs thots

When he looks at you
You feel the whole world spring to life inside of you
You breathe in his scent and sense your whole soul being set aflame
A flame that burns like the coal skewering the familiar mixed molasses and tobacco consumes your senses
Sensing his eyes bore deep into yours and feel the sheer nakedness of who you are
Are you even yours anymore?

She tells you she loves you for the first time
Time ceases to exist. An ultraviolet supernova replaces the vacuum where your heart used to be.
Believe in it. Feel your fingertips lose sensation and nurture the fire that runs in your veins.
Venture into the hesitant lines of her smile and walk your lips along that trail.
Trail your soul behind where ever hers goes.
Is your soul even yours anymore?

I belonged to myself. I lost all possession of my being when I met you.

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Entry #5: Woman

I walked out into the harsh winds, ignoring the incessant biting of the cold winter into my frail bones. I walked down the marble steps, my worn out soul trembling, my faith shaken, my energy withering but my body resilient to any discomfort. I walked straight onto the rough granite pavement embedded with the footprints of distressed civilians, inconsiderate of whether or not I was crossing a pedestrian’s designated path.  I walked down the street, dressed in an abaya which served as a constant reminder of the tyranny I was coerced to live in harmony with under false pretenses of the religion I devotedly believed in, avoiding to look into anyone’s angry eyes in fear of the accusing glares deeming me a harlot in spite of my consented full coverage. I walked past the first man, lowering my gaze as I was expected to and felt, I felt his searing gaze scanning my body half-longingly half-distastefully, wrongfully judging the oppressed woman, the silenced voice underneath the humble black garment. I walked towards my destination; bearing the word “underdog” in my mind but having the taboo of a word “woman” emblazoned on my chest and carved into my features, ensuring the indifference my expression conveyed. I walked past the string of grimy stores, ignoring the monotonous words of the citizens while having my mental voice engulfing my thoughts with its anger and struggle to attain my lost rights. I walked on as the thunder rumbled wildly and the sky began to water the earth, inhaling the sweet scent of tobacco mixed molasses which reminded me of the fact men chose to harm their health while women couldn’t due to the social unacceptability of females smoking. I walked, embracing the soon to be transient nature of my suppression, promising myself it wouldn’t be long before I could behave the way I wanted to. I walked, swearing to Allah that they will rue the day they chose to regard women as the weaker sex. I walked and walked, hoping my legs wouldn’t give out and my mind would finally be quiet for once.


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Entry #4: An unapologetic apology letter

For a long time now, I’ve been apologizing for things I cannot control. I’ve been apologizing for my appearance, for not fitting into everyone’s standards. I’ve been apologizing for my attitude, for being unacceptable and unbecoming of a lady in the making. I’ve been apologizing for my ethnicity, for being unworthy of your respect. I’ve been apologizing for my beliefs, for oftentimes contradicting yours. I’ve been apologising for my capabilities, for not being a supreme fusion of all existing aspects of knowledge and talent. For a long time now, I’ve been apologizing for being myself.

The rest is under construction.


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Entry #2

As I adjusted my font to 10-point Helvetica, I contemplated how I had been battling myself endlessly on whether I should write about this or not, thinking it is far too ridiculous and insignificant but also believing it is necessary as I need to get this off my chest. I have never been much of a person who had it easy, talking about their feelings and clearing their head, since my annoying habit of overthinking usually behaves as an obstacle. Along with my writing/speaking complexities, this obstacle morphs into a brick wall, which further prevents me from growing as a person, something I find rather aggravating. Having grown sick of being stuck in cul-de-sac, I decided that I needed to get out of my comfort zone and start doing things which little ol’ me would not usually do. Seeing as “talking” is an issue in this area, this is me getting over it. Proud of me or what?

I suppose this blog is supposed to help me expand my horizons and explore my writing capabilities so I hope for everyone’s sake that I don’t sound as atrocious in reality as I do in my head, because believe me, sometimes my personal analysis of my thoughts and writing style perplexes me, and mostly not in a good way. I think the main issue here goes back and forth between courage and self-esteem issues. There is no wizard here to give me heart nor is this a situation where my “hidden talent” gets “discovered”; this is real life and I’m going to take it one step at time.

My writing issue isn’t the sole purpose of this post. As I mentioned previously, I honestly hope that through blogging I’ll be able to go through each individual thought I’m currently too preoccupied with. This isn’t going to be the only tactic I’m using to approach this issue, I sure hope I don’t become that spineless blogger who hides behind the screen all day long but this is one method I’m hoping to be effective.

Anyway, thank you for reading this and until next time!