Archive for September, 2013


Posted: September 30, 2013 in Uncategorized

Sometimes, when I’m feeling down, I keep staring at my phone, wishing so bad for it to ring and get me out of whatever mood I’m in. But no, I still don’t feel like talking with someone I know, because I’d probably only start complaining, crying and making things worse. I want a complete stranger to make my day over the phone. I don’t know how, I just want to answer my phone and maybe have someone tell me something good about myself then completely disappear from my life, leaving me with a stranger’s smile forever carved inside my heart. I don’t know if that makes sense, I just long for some stranger’s kindness. I’m sick of friends’ kindness because it’s almost always out of sympathy. I don’t want anyone to sympathize with my problems, I don’t want them to be forced to do it, I just need some unconditional, free kindness. I need someone to fill my eyes with happy tears once again.


It usually starts with you feeling completely helpless whenever someone asks you to come up with a creative idea for something. You’ve never been able to do it, you think, and so you just start panicking. You start developing this idea about yourself that you’re a total failure when it comes to creativity, and you somehow learn to believe it, until you magically cross paths with that one thing you find yourself totally passionate about. And that’s when it all changes, for passion actually does more than magic.

When you’re so passionate about something, there are no boundaries to where your mind can go. It takes you to very different places than where you usually used to be, and knows how to move you around those places before you start limiting your imagination by permanently making homes out of where it mentally allows you to stay. You just start watching yourself coming up with the weirdest ideas ever, that wouldn’t normally cross your mind if it’s not about that particular passion. You start realizing the fact that creativity is not just about tightly squeezing your mind in an attempt to come up with something that’s so unusual; it’s actually setting your mind free and allowing it to wander all around and collect all what could be classified as usual, which through your passion will turn all magical and allow everything to seem unusual when in fact it could really be not. You unconsciously start wanting to do more, and wanting everyone around you to get that same feeling so you’d all make use of that and together start doing what everyone says is impossible. You start seeing new sides of yourself that you didn’t know existed, that you actually start forgetting all about the helplessness you once felt.

Passion is such an amazing trigger for all what can never even be described. And being able to find that one thing that you’re very passionate about is such an amazing blessing.

An upside of thinking (37/365)

Posted: September 26, 2013 in Uncategorized

I love that moment when my mind’s so consumed thinking about a certain thing that I don’t even realize I’ve been thinking about it until I’m completely done thinking. I love how the whole world suddenly seems like a dream, how the noise around me sounds like background music, and how very focused my features turn, whenever a thought invades all the empty spaces inside my mind. I love how I could physically be in a place yet mentally be in a very different setting that I let my mind choose for me. I love where my mind usually takes me when I’m not paying attention.

My protection (36/365)

Posted: September 26, 2013 in Uncategorized

Today is one of those days in which I feel extremely jealous about my religion. Today is the day I discovered the existence of one more weird mentality.

We were sitting in class, doing this group project. They were two guys, a girl, and myself. The girl randomly started complaining about how her scarf kept falling off, and out of nowhere one of the guys just let out a “Why did you even wear it?” question. Why did you wear your Hijab? We all fell silent waiting to hear her answer and all that came out was; “I don’t know!“.

I thought that was going to be the end of it, until the guy spoke once again and let out another shocking fact.

If I ever got married and my wife decided to start wearing Hijab, I’d simply tell her goodbye,” he said. “I totally dislike it.

Normally, I wouldn’t really bother getting into this discussion, but I felt curious then. I wanted to know what makes him against it that way. I was getting ready for a real conversation until I heard the answer I never expected.

I want to be able to go to public beaches and pools with my wife, and that’ll stop me.

I completely fell silent.

A person dislikes Hijab and would very easily let go of the love of his life for it just because he’d want to go to public beaches with her.

I’ve been repeating this sentence inside my head for the entire day, and I still can’t really grasp it.

I don’t really mind the existence of people who do not believe in Hijab because of their own logical reasons, but this.. This truly made me feel jealous about my religion. About my gender. About my entire existence.

When I decided to write about this, I only wanted to document this incident because it was starting to consume a huge part of my brain and I needed to let it all out. But now, having written it all down, I started thinking about my own Hijab.

Why am I wearing this? And why do I feel that jealous about it?
What would I’ve replied with if I were the one whom that guy decided to question her decision instead?

Am I hesitant about this? No. Never. It could probably be the only thing in my life that I’m very sure about.

Why, then, did I choose to wear it?

Thinking about it, I’ve never really done it solely because I think it’s a religious obligation. I started wearing it after getting into so many fights with my parents, and I guess I was too young to be doing it only for my religion. Maybe I wanted to feel I’m finally a grown up, and get a glimpse of what my sisters felt like wearing it. Maybe I only, unconsciously, wanted to be like them. But that was only the beginning of it, and I’m currently so thankful my young self unintentionally got me into this.

I could have simply taken it off when I grew up if I’d realized it wasn’t really what I wanted to do. I could have let go of it all. But I didn’t, because I’ve thankfully grown to love it.

I love my Hijab so much. I love it because it’s one of the very few ways through which I feel so connected to my God. Praying, reading Qur’an, or even fasting, could all sometimes give me the spirituality I need, but none of them does it the way Hijab does. None of them gives me the same feeling I get waking up each morning, looking through my scarfs, picking one that matches my mood, standing in front of the mirror, and trying to perfect a nice tie that would probably get all distorted the minute I leave the house. That moment of standing in front of the mirror, knowing deep down that I’m doing this only for God; that I’m letting go of one pleasure of mine in return of the billions of blessings He’s already given me, is like no other.

It’s my protection. It’s what makes me feel safe. I don’t usually like how most girls explain that by saying they’re protecting themselves for the right one. I don’t do that; I was granted this body of mine to protect it, not for anyone but myself. I protect me for my own self.

Hijab is actually my most favorite way through which I’m able to get closer to my beautiful creator. Every time He grants me the strength to let go of one thing I shouldn’t wear, or one thing I shouldn’t do out of respect to my veil, I feel like I’m being exposed to this amazing inner shower that changes so much about me. I love giving up things because of my Hijab; I don’t feel it’s controlling me, at all. It’s one of the very few things I’m proud to be doing in my life. It’s one of the very few decisions I’ve taken and never ever regretted.

I could keep trying to describe how special this simple scarf makes me feel yet I’d never be able to convey it all through words. One thing I’m sure of though is, I’d never let go of it just because “I’d want to go to a public beach“. I’m not that oppressed.

I wish (35/365)

Posted: September 24, 2013 in Uncategorized

I wish you wouldn’t be asking me that many questions only because you want to feel so involved in my life; I wish you’d ask all these questions and more, because you know it would make me feel so much better letting out their answers, especially to you. I wish you wouldn’t want to be around all the time just to be able to tell people you know everything about me; I wish you’d always be there because you know I’d need you to be. I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me of why you should be a huge part of my life, and only leave me to feel how much of a difference your presence truly makes. I wish I wouldn’t be trying so hard to avoid you; I wish I’d be able to experience the feeling of impatiently counting down the minutes until I can finally get to be around you. I wish I wouldn’t tell people about you because it’s a must, I wish I had the chance to choose doing that on my own.

I wish I didn’t have to write down all what I wish to find in you because I can never say it out loud to you. I wish you knew how much I need you to know all this without having to tell you I do.

Finally content (34/365)

Posted: September 24, 2013 in Uncategorized

I always thought the hardest there is, is to have to live with a memory like mine; one that never seems to forget anything, not even the very tiny details of the most irrelevant events. Today I discovered there exists what’s even harder, and that is simply going through old pictures.

I hadn’t done that in a really long while and I kind of forgot how it felt like. Now that I’ve went through pictures for almost the last four years of my life, it felt really weird. I discovered I’ve been through a lot, really. And I realized how I used to look back and complain about “having been through a lot” during almost every stage of those, thinking then that it was finally the time for me to stop going through more, and how days always proved me wrong, every single time.

I had the weirdest combination of feelings, but what amazed me most is how I had an unconscious smile spreading over my face as I was moving through the pictures; that was a first. I’ve spent a great deal of my life -literally- crying over the old days whenever I remembered any of them. Now that I’ve started accepting that nothing will bring back those days, and really accepting where I am now and what I’ve turned out to be, they only managed to trigger a smile. It wasn’t a happy smile though, but a smile that seemed aware of, and very content with, how each stage I’ve passed through has greatly helped in shaping the person I am today, and not even regretting a single detail about them.

The people whom I used to consider close back in the days managed to make their way out of my life almost every year, and I never seemed to stop longing for any of them. Now that I’m -thankfully- friends with some of the most amazing people on Earth, I realize how I wouldn’t have met them if I had continued refusing to let go of those who had to leave. I don’t regret knowing them, never. I just know we currently do not belong together, and I’ve never been that content with the divine plan of my life. I honestly wouldn’t have wished for a better plan.

If, four years ago, I’d been told that this is where I’d be now, with this current mentality of mine, surrounded by the people I currently know, I would have never believed them. And even though I’m not living my best days, and I still keep going through hardships and losses until this very moment, I understand that this is where I am supposed to be, that this is what God has chosen for me, and that this is exactly what will get me ready for the next phase of my life. I’m not thankful for all that as much as I’m thankful for finally realizing and accepting it all.

I wonder where would I be four years from now, and how much more my mind would’ve matured by then.

You. (33/365)

Posted: September 24, 2013 in Uncategorized

You’re my favorite hiding place. You’re where I love to run to whenever I can’t the handle the world’s cruelty anymore. You’re the only one I’d automatically think of calling whenever I have so much to say; not to open up, but to listen instead to the tiny details of your very own day. You’re my favorite thought that gently forces me to completely let go of the tiniest particles of my brain whenever it crosses my mind, making room for all that has to do with you. You’re my thoughts-wording trigger, for you allow me do it so naturally when I’m doing it for you. You’re the reason why I survive the very worst of my days.

I mentally hug you each and every day, for you’re all that, and more. Yet you don’t know any of it, neither would you ever know. I’ll just keep writing about everything you are and everything you do, wishing you’d one day get to read it and know it’s all about you.