spew

uncertainty is a bitch.
word.

on a lighter note, the quarter's almost over, which means i'm one step closer to graduation, one step closer to finishing the book i've finally started writing, one step closer to finding the answers, one step further away from the nothing that is now.

goodnight<3

come out and play

i've spent too long hiding in my mother's closet, trying on her long winter jackets and walking in the heels she never wears.
i'm realizing summer is over. winter is here, and i must buckle down and get to work.
reality is calling, and i can't put it on hold any longer.

realizations on a rainy day

Sometimes I want to lay out all the pieces of myself on a table for you to see. I'm a rainbow, a run on sentence or two, your last piece of gum. The best listener. A raving bitch (I'm working on being less 'bitch' and more 'raving')

On any given day I am the fifth chapter in your favorite book. Known to you, but nothing to anyone else without the beginning and end.
Blue and red make purple (if i remember correctly), but I cannot be blue and red and purple all at the same time, yet I still want you to know I can be all three.

There are two sides to every story, a million sides to a girl, and I wish I could show you them all at once, but I can't.

I am the sum of my past, my mistakes, my favorite books, my workout playlist, and the cheesecake I ate too much of for dessert.

But then I realize that I am only human. That I can only wear one face at any given time. That I am a lot of things, and that you will see this with time.

But most importantly, that I have nothing to prove.

good things don't come easy

I want to go to a park, lay in the grass, and see princesses and unicorns among the clouds. I want to see them and believe they're there. I don't want to pretend.
I want to write the book that's been floating around in my head for seventeen years, and I want you to read it. More than that, I want it to punch you in the gut. I want you to feel it.
I want to go for a run and feel the runner's high people are always talking about.
I want to buy my mother a house one day. A house with lots of windows that let the sunshine in, and a huge fireplace that will warm her while she watches Arabic sitcoms.
I want to be the best daughter, the best sister, the best friend.
I want to talk on the phone for hours and catch up, without once racking my brain for what to say next.
I want to get hopelessly lost without being hopelessly afraid.
I want to be able to give directions when I'm asked for them.
I want to know where I'm going.
I want to play video games with my little brother for a few hours, and jump on the bed with Ilyas until the springs break and all that's left is the mattress and the sweat and the rubble of remembrance.
I want to sleep outside and not miss my bed. I want to be okay with not knowing. I want to be comfortable in the dark. I want no more nightmares.
I want a bookshelf that reaches the heavens that holds all the books I've ever read, and all the books I want to read. I want someone to read beside me.
I want to read a poem to an audience, and I want them to know that I have given them a piece of me.
I want to buy ridiculously expensive shoes. I want to join the Peace Corps. I want to save the world.
I want to be girl that the song is about. I want someone to write poems about me, but then again I don't. I want to be the girl that can't be captured in words.
I want to take a road trip with no destination but away, and nothing but a full tank of gas and people that make me laugh.
I want to ride a Vespa down the streets of Italy. Write a story in a cafe in France. Backpack through Europe. Take a soul vacation.
Wear a hat without looking silly. Never take the bus again. Make the rules. Meet a boy. Be okay with being vulnerable. I want to play for keeps, and not just for the win.
Learn how to speak another language. Live in New York for a summer, move before it starts to rain.
I want to stop losing things, or maybe just lose less things. Replace those special earrings that I lost long ago. Find a way to go back in time, and then decide not to because I like where I am. Remember everything. Never forget. Smile and mean it. Find God and seek redemption. Wear hijab. Ask for advice.

I want to sing whenever I want, wherever I want, whatever I want, and as loud as I want. It would mean the world to me if you sang along.

What do you want?

so dip your pen in blood, and write

i write because i don't know how else to make you understand me.
don't look me in the eyes when i talk, or i will look away.
i don't know how else to show you that i am here, that i am real, that i have something to say, that i need you to listen...
so look at the words spilling across the page, dancing across the page, reaching up and choking you because they are so full of meaning.
this is for the poetry jotted down on post it notes. this is for the love letters you keep in the box under your bed, too afraid to send. this is for the conversations carried out in bathroom stalls, that no one can understand but the reader and the writer.
this is for you.

get well soon

Procrastination is a disease. A serious, serious disease. The poor, poor victims of this disease are too often blamed for being lazy, when they are in fact, very, very sick. There are many horrible side effects of procrastination, including but not limited to:
- Lack of sleep
- Sudden onset of stress
- Lack of sleep
- Skin problems from lack of sleep
- Crankiness from lack of sleep
- Falling asleep in class and getting yelled at because of lack of sleep

Is there a Procrastinator's Anonymous or something?
If so please let me know. If not please let me know so I can start one.
I'm always looking for shit to put on my college apps.
The ones I haven't started yet.