Watch your thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions.
Watch your actions, they become habits.
Watch your habits, they become your character- Jared Leto 

Mariam N

Hello there

I somehow find myself , battling with my demons
My inner fears, hopeless dreams and insecure tears
I have always known, they tend to mix up into something evil
But noway , that can't be the real me
Those little demons..
I forgot about them but i knew
that someday it will be due
and then smiles expose sharp edged teeth
and the liquid I'm sipping on calls on the devil from beneath
I put him down to sleep
I thought I learned how to control him, but tonight he defeats
In the morning , I read the confusion on the faces
I'm trying to fix the damage and wipe out all its traces
I tell them it wasn't me
but maybe it was
a side of me locked up and wanting to scream
but i cant lose my skill to conceal
to hide what i really mean
its necessary
to hide how I really feel
what i really feel

Mariam N

Living in a grey spot. Having a hard time figuring out right from wrong, sin from redemption, love from lust, confidence from insecurity. Figuring it out. But its getting gloomy outside and grey's not my color, so lets keep it black and white for now. Simple and clear. Tired of over analyzing...

Mariam N

Some say love is cursed by monogamy 

Mariam N

Unleash me

   I'm having a minor aneurysm due to this writers block. I delete, refresh, sanitize and try over and over. What do I want to say. Overwhelmed with my thoughts. I guess I just can't write when I'm in the middle east. I need some tranquility and surprisingly, home just doesn't do it. All I know is that when I can't write , a weird feeling starts to cook. Thriving somewhere in my deep recesses, growing and mushrooming. Driving me crazy. But what do I want to say: That I'm hard on myself, that I'm scared of not being able to recognize innocence, that I'm not as perfect or strong as they think, but my imperfections reflect my true authentic self. What you see is what you get. I want to say that I rarely don't get along with people , but I rarely connect. If this curse would unblock I would say it all, like the fact that I hate dogs, and I love drake. That I wont judge you if your shit aint designer , that makes you less fake. That I no longer believe in love , and thats not because I'm bitter. Infatuation yes, but love is a complete mess. Who knows what it is . I would say that I want so much but I need someone to motivate me. Push me around, even though i fucking hate being pushed around. I would say that very few people really get it , so you just have to pretend.  Trying to emerge from this block so I can say it all. But wait didn't you just say it? Oh , theres more. I'll embellish it for you  next time. I'll make it sound pretty. Like a song. I'm having an aneurysm from this writers block. 

Oh this is by far my favorite Vogue editorial , very "girl interrupted" :

Mariam N

Tonight let all your pain be champagne

She stared at the cracks in the ceiling for a while. Soon enough she created shapes and figures in her head. She thought about her friends. She knew she was blessed with a strong support system. Yet, she couldn't have felt more solitude. She remembered the new sandals she brought a few days ago. I don't deserve them. They were so extreme. She thought that was exactly what she needed to smash that glass of numbness. A big piece of glass, she sat behind it , and observed. Un-engaged. She admired how sexy skinny girls looked in such high heels. They gave her temporary satisfaction. That'll do.. what is permanent? 
11 am. Too early to start a day that she wanted to end already. She forced herself up. The sun hit the water so beautifully, and immediately elevated some of that heaviness. She heard them talking about a conspiracy and the chaotic revolution. Everything about Arabs is messy. She thought about him. Wondering how he would feel if he came here. She breathed in a brick. She was bothered and relieved that she had noway of getting in touch with the world. She realized how hard it is for her mind to connect the duality she lived. Her life in the north seemed like an illusion under all this heat, and after he left her she started to believe it never happened.That drove some of her sanity away.

No longer the person you left. Suddenly, she felt the unfamiliar. A new feeling that was racing through her every cell. Pausing for a minute, admiring the beauty of the water, she recognized what it was. She felt ashamed. She was never in her life the one to hate. It was necessary, uncontrollable, undeniable and completely justified. She decided to let herself have the moment, and maybe just hate the pain away.

Mariam N

Victim of your own optimism

It's like when you buy a carton of milk. You need it, you use it , your meal is incomplete without it. Normally, you know better than getting hung up on something that will eventually expire. It will rot. Try having it after the marked date.. it gets bitter.
I'd write more, but I have so much to say, that I can't say anything. At least not yet. Forgive my muteness.

Mariam N

I demand you take it off

I have a suggestion, how about you take off your masks and join the world? You'll eat better, see clearer, breathe easier. Trust me its an amazing thing to be real. Take off your masks and live in transparency. Don't live an illusion, don't take fashion advice from super heroes! Show your true colours, beliefs, emotions, ideas, opinions, share your secrets, your twisted wishes, your regrets, your sorrows. Accept the pain, live in the moment, love back, initiate love, give birth, turn on the lights. Take off your masks! 

When words fail to come out

ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVS. 

FLAMING STRAWBERRIES 

US/MEXICAN  BORDER

M is for Muse It

I don't know what I feel about humans, but I love the music they make. I will always escape to music. It always fits in somehow. No one wants to walk, jog, clean their house, or have a drink with their thoughts. Music. This is a link to my dearest friends blog. I used to have a scheme. I would charm him into giving me his best, never heard before songs ( I have no clue how he finds his shit), then I would fall in love with them and immediately spread the word about those stimulating tunes. Yeah he'd get upset, but I just couldn't control myself. The music was turning me into an addict. I had to always sneak behind his back.  He's finally come a long, and realized that music is the universal religion. Bringing us together, uniting us, all into one. Heres the link. Get ready to be amused. http://muse-it.blogspot.com/

Don't you wish you could turn the switch off sometimes... 

Sumaah tayme

Time is running, feels like we're moving at the speed of light.. I don't have time to look at the sky, or even time to allow myself to get upset about the things that are upsetting me. But, I see a bit of light from the sky after months of dormancy. I missed her. I need her. She's here. Cheers to many more sunny hot humid days!

Everyone's weird

I always wondered why I'm so attracted to broken people.. 

LLL

I don't know about you all , but nothing can send me on a self destructive path like silence. Big apartment, parked in the sky. All I hear is the loud sound of silence, paused by a few coughs. I don't know how people do it. Living alone? I won't understand it. I've never really liked being alone, so I made it a point to always be around others, till I find myself at a bottleneck, at the verge of chocking...and then I complain about it. Sometimes I hate it, and find myself begging for a few moments of no one or nothing  but me. Just when I find that my wish is granted..I feel loneliness's grip slowly suffocating me. Forcing me to hang out with my thoughts. So I try to distract myself. Grab a book, flip through the cable, but we both know that soon I will be defeated. My thoughts. My inner dialogs.  Definitely not my favorite friends, but I give them a chance. I try to engage with them in some kind of conversation, only to realize how unpleasant they are. I don't like them. So I pick up my phone and send a shout out to one of you, to come here, or at least talk to me, consume me with your reality, because at the moment,  I just want to escape mine.

Awkward

Maybe self-improvement is not the answer sometimes. Sink to your lowest, hit bottom rock, linger there for a while, start to like it, knowing you actually hate it, then blame it on whatever you want. This is not me, this is not how I usually am I swear.......

I think you need to bring that version of yourself to life. Materialize it. Become aware of it. Then emerge victoriously, with a sharp clear vision of the person you never want to be. Thats self improvement.
Also, MS anonymous , really?? I know who you are. People like you are the reason this world is falling apart.

Sunday morning blues.

Reality is a story told to us by our brains. When I first heard my psychology professor saying that 2 years ago , I thought he was wise and that I completely understood him. It took me 2 years to realize that I actually do not understand. So at night when I'm alone, I contemplate. If we all have separate brains, hence different ideas of reality , then what is it then? An act of fiction, an idea? Whats the point of getting close to someone, if our perceptions will never be the same? I wonder..or maybe we're trapped in a loop hole of trial and error.

Oh Well..

Im walking with my coat on , but I hear them say its April. 11 pm . I hate passing through these ancient buildings at such a late hour. Its cold. But I wont stop till I get there. I have to ride it through. What a mission. Then I accept it, I pick it up, and I'm on a roll. I take my hand out of my pocket. I look at it. Its holding a pack. I light a smoke. 10 more minutes of systematic footwork. Damn it , ipod's running low. But im still puffing. Only when Im close to the bud do i realize.. that i have lost most of my senses in my hand. Red bruised. I wonder how i didnt notice it before. Then in a single moment of clarity in this dark night, I figure out how valuable these mouth to side movements are to me. More valuable than having a warm hand in my pocket. Addiction and conditional training. Our minds and bodies.. you are what you train yourself to be.... I wonder how many things I'm obliviously conditioned to ...and what happens when you become aware?