Number Two

I go to the toilet with my phone ,

she doesn’t mind this,

girls always

go to the bathroom in pairs or more

And I have a feeling that I

might be in there for a minute .

Of course my phone is female,she knows

all my secrets so she can snitch anytime

So I’m sitting ,

Shitting

thinking about how

not everyone gives a fuck

about what the other person is thinking.

And quite frankly,

Sometimes I don’t either

I am not always listening to what

the next person is talking about

And not because i can’t hear you

I’m just not paying that much attention because

I may be having thoughts of mine own at that time

Of how I could be doing other things instead

But even so

it’s very important that you feel heard by me

In those times where

you feel like no one else is listening.

People shit a lot

They talk some too

A number of us even once

everyday.

And I don’t know why we keep comparing

Life with excrement

Is life one big toilet?

Do we shit on it

Or does it shit on us ?

Why

do we say ‘That stinks!’

And when something doesn’t make sense to us

Its bullshit?

Why are other people pieces of shit

And others full of it ?

Did the former half arse being a shitty person?

I was walking the other day

And noticed someone noticing me

I noticed them right back and wondered ..

If they have ever felt self conscious

when they noticed someone else

Was noticing them ?

I haven’t mentioned

That I admire people

who notice me ,

Wow ,you have the guts to look around?

At other people too

concrete jungle

Is like visiting a public zoo

You see

I am very frightened

Of being criticized

I could have something on my face

I could be walking funny ,

I could be having a stain on my clothes

Or maybe I feel like something is wrong with what

I choose to wear that day

Thinking about this makes my head ache

I have experienced being a failure

to one’s self before

I was a failure just the other day.

The disappointment was profound

Imagine this when someone asked me

‘What do you think of yourself ?’

Friend,

I don’t think anymore

I have just proven to myself that I cannot

trust myself with myself

Time to throw the whole self away

I am 20 and something

And

I have questions I ask myself

What am I really living for ?

Where am I going?

Is this really worth it ?

Does this person really like me ?

Will I have enough money when I grow up?

Will my parents be proud of me ?

What if Im a disappointment?

What do my friends think of me ?

Can I really sit with them ?

Am I where I want to be ?

Am I who I want me to be?

*remembers academic failures*

Have I always been this dumb ?

What am I not doing right?

Where am I going ?

What is my future ?

What if I fail to be the person

I want me to be ?

How do I survive the pressure

My parents have a whole life

I don’t know anything about

Survivors of countless traumas

For sure,

I wonder how much of it they

Had control of

That made them think they can control

My life and how i live it.

‘Can I please go out today ?’

‘My friend-you’ve met her before

She’s having a sleepover and I was wondering ..

There always seems to be a definite answer to these questions of mine

One that prevent me from seeking further requests

I do not make the rules in that house

The rules make me.

It’s been two and a half days

Since I took a shit that day

I’ve not visited the lavatory to shit again

Is it safe to say

The toilet is my escape

And if I take my phone with me

It becomes a haven

I will have you know

I shit real good that day,

And I can’t wait to shit that good again.

20 something.

Is what I will call it when I do decide to do it .Fix my life,myself,my art..(in which order though really..?).I’m not sure if I’ve matured enough to do some serious pondering,I can’t seem to turn into the well -organized ,ambitious individual I aspire to be no matter how hard I think I try .And why are other people good at it ?God I see what you’re doing unto others

I realize how much of a wuss I am when I recall certain traumas.I should go back and beat some people up when I have the chance to .

I’m not the best at what I do ,and yet ,Im still here,this page still exists,And each year I add a bit of ME to it ,.. not sure if it’s considering sharpening tool .After all they say you make something better by practicing , but fuck sake at this point I don’t know if this is considered practice anymore.I don’t have a shite idea what I’m doing ,or if it’s leading somewhere ,feels like I just come hear to write my thoughts .I can never grow probably .I don’t have any political ,economic,social drive in regards to this precious site of mine,for all I know this might as well be a diary .

I often wonder if I’ll end up becoming that person who gave up on their dreams,their drive.Will I look back and start thinking; ‘God,I used to write and do so and so all the time back then !’

And will I wonder where it all went ?Will I wonder if it was okay to let it all go ?Will I want to do it all over again ?be that person ?

Am I that person right now ?

Hunger games but it’s Ramadhan

Being Muslim

You realize

Ramadhan is for life,

Just as it is for a moment

And to master it

actually takes a bit of skill

I struggle to remind my stomach that

It’s not the end of the world

that It lasts

roughly ,4 almost 4 weeks

4 a couple hours a day ,

I can eat whatever i want at night

Wallah ,anything i like

I Look forward to it

I build psyke for it

I want to keep busy

I want to be thankful

I want to be at peace with myself

nurture my mind

and my body

I ask myself if it possible

to see this one month as food for my soul

Because it can be hard

to be tempted

Until you feel like you can’t make it

And you start to give up

But try to shake it

you break down on certain days .

But when those bad times are over

(because nothing lasts forever )

You want to live every year remembering that

Not all has been lost

You want

to keep being better than the last time

Omega.

When you died

I read the last message you sent me one night

I do this annoying thing where I’m online

-but not for reasons of replying to my texts and messages

I never stopped to check my notifications

I just assumed you would call if it was urgent

When you died,

I didn’t talk to you that last night

But I watched the show you told me about .The one about the power of friendship (basically a lot of the anime you recommended)and I wondered if I was a good friend to you ,I knew your favorite snack ,music and the fact that you could rap ,so I guess I am .You always put yourself out there and I thought by now you’d be releasing tracks or performing your pieces but you were never a show off ,I know I tried my best .As your friend I knew you were always writing ,even if they weren’t all your best pieces.Did you know I actually watched AoT??makes me sad that you’ll never find out how it ends, I wonder why I think about that a lot.

Please don’t die

Why did you leave your girlfriend behind ?I look at your Instagram page and her name is still in your bio ,she recently put up your initials on hers too.I often wonder how she copes,what about your mum and dad ?and the rest of us?your close friends?I don’t know why you liked to disappear,you were always changing numbers ghosting and reappearing whenever you felt like it .So are you coming back this time ?or did you change lives too ?

Window reflections🚍

It’s something about the street lights that simultaneously remind and make me forget how late it’s getting.

It the person seated next to me gently snoring ,mouth slightly open ,head slightly hanging .

It’s the messages on my phone that keep me occasionally preoccupied on the screen .I reply to the same person thrice while I leave a bunch of unanswered texts pending and a list missed calls,deadass ,from an acquaintance who just saw me crossing the street not too long ago .I know they saw me because I saw them too .But atleast it’s not my mom calling to find out how far I am from home .

It’s whatshisface looking at me from the bus beside mine.He has his earphones on ,was probably listening to music or something-at this point it could be anything from the radio or a podcast to porn sounds.Is there such a thing as porn sounds ???I actually want him to be listening to porn sounds because that would be overall the most bizarre thing ,i don’t know why but I Stan a social maverick .

The bus im in moves away as traffic picks up .

The person on the opposite bus will never see me again .This almost feels like a scene from a commercial ad or a music video.

It’s the song playing over the radio that reminds me how beautiful life can be .Also a welcome distraction the sound brings nostalgia,I suddenly feel emotions I cannot quite put my finger on (mind you this is Nikki Minaj The night is still young playing)because it suddenly feels like a 2016 summer night ..,wtf we don’t even have Summer from where I come from really .The Equator makes sure we are always in a constant state of season,its either raining ,cold or warm ,nothing too extreme.

But not to brag ,the weather is great here ….you should visit and stay a while .

Netflix and Feels

Watching the third sequel of Kissing Booth with my boyfriend I was reminded how much Young adult films can be adorbly cliche ,with him criticizing it the first 3 seconds we started watching it and me explaining emotional scenes he was inadequately equipped to understand.

I would be lying if I didn’t tell you his heavy criticism didn’t frustrate and amuse me at the same time,and at said point I loved him for always staying true to his character.

I was thinking …what a man ..

The couch,a comfortable safe haven ,his laptop because he had to catch up with work, a light fleece so we could put the bullshit to rest when it needed to be done .

MaryJane a trusted companion .A welcomed distraction.A constant friend of ours.

Naturally we gradually dissolved into doing other things with eachother a few minutes into the movie because my humor keeps stirring his thoughts .

We shuffled to the bedroom and I proceeded to wrap my legs around his neck because I did a headstand on the bed and wondered if I could bend my legs to his shoulders.

The other day I had cat hair on my panties and he shoved his tongue up my nosestril.

I don’t want to dive into the fart jokes, But let me tell yah,they’re rather fanny.Ha! I know,I did it ,I dived into it ..and flanked.

He’s gotten into the habit of visiting the gym ,and I ,the habit of hitting and massaging the various aching joints of his body because why not ..it’s fun,it induces a nice sort of pain that actually feels good and maybe ..maybe I like the way he laughs so loudly when I play masseuse with him .

In the back of my head,I related to the movie ,it made me recall certain situations I’ve been in before and made me feel ..call it empathy maybe ,like when Noah told Elle that he was scared to sacrifice everything because what if they didn’t end up together and how he didn’t want to also be just another person telling her what to do ,and weeeeeell they ended up breaking things off ..things sort of took a turn for the worst I mean …I cringed so hard because at that moment it felt like I was outside looking in and I could see just how wrong certain people were taking things .I really don’t fancy naming names at this point.Second hand embarrassment becomes too real for me.

uncomfortable conversations I tell you .

It is moments like that that make or break relationships and I couldn’t relate more .

Keeping it going.

I’m ready to write that haiku

I’m ready to write that essay

I’m ready to write about my day

I’m ready to write what i can’t say

I’m ready to write whatever comes to my head

I’m ready to write like I never left

I’m ready to write when I’m doing well

I’m ready to write when I feel unwell

I’m ready to write to feel powerful

I’m ready to write to feel vulnerable

I’m ready to write except when I’m blank as hell

I guess then ,

I’ll just read other people’s shit.

Expression

Sometimes I hate what I write

How I write it

And why I write it

I tear myself apart about it

I analyze

I judge

I despise

I erase it

Too many mistakes .

Sometimes I love what I read

How I perceive it

How I relate

The feelings it ignites

The thrill

The rush

The humor

And the total trust of a strangers words

I admire it

I envy

I bask in it

My God

What a price to pay for expression.