Mold is filling everything

I am filled with a hidden feeling of immortality, that everything I love is going to the end without me.
I wasn’t experiencing a sudden mania, when I asked for just a piece of paper to write. They sell apples like this and everything.
I am not a journalist, I mean, I didn’t become so, and this willful abandonment to things around me may indicate that I have never felt powerless in my life. I have refused to enter any faculty at university, to marry any random girl, to be judged by a dictator, or at least to have a child in this world. I was seeing special charm in my negativity and my own mockery because I could control it or, at least, I had the justification for it. But when that happened, and I’m sure that “that” was a case to discuss, but not a book for example, because I remember what I read very well, I concluded that I actually never meant what I was calling for, or it just wasn’t affecting my own decisions.
Sorry but I didn’t order a coffee. Of course I love coffee, I adore coffee, but you don’t understand. I don’t like to be given things unless I asked for them. That’s what keeps me focused.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, on the contrary, I used to be more kind with strangers, because I don’t have anything against them. I also trust everyone who reads books like me, well, reading was once part of my balance.

First day:
I yearn to take violent attitude from things around me, not to let nostalgia sneak into me. It is not the war, it’s my details that led me here, and all those fragile images, all those scruffy clothes, are just miserable memories now.

Yes, I am too picky, naturally, and I do believe that a man shouldn’t try everything in life.
I’ll think about writing a novel later and publish it on parts. Only then the narration would be sequential.

Second day – morning:
It seems like even on my holiday I will not get rid of the “waking up early” curse. I mustn’t miss the hotel’s breakfast.
I am here, in Geneva, one of the most important places in the world, but I live in a small city in western Germany. I chose it because it is not a big deal, just like me. I am starting to love it.
May you excuse me? I’m a bit confused, because my experience is not really qualified, and I have been through time, when I knew exactly what I wanted and I was asking for it insolently. But in the end, following the evolution of a character is a tedious task and I know that big successes need a whole life, a certain time of period to take a meaning for itself. And those who don’t have the patience to raise a child won’t be able to write a novel, or at least a long one, but will keep coming up with complex confusing texts just as a wet dream.

I would also like to tell you, well, when my father dies, that will really be tragic. But what happened between us was a distortion that I didn’t want to get, that’s why I averse it.

Second day – evening:
Romantic sentences are grammatically weak formulated.
I haven’t found yet someone who listens to my music playlist in the same order I do, so I can share my room with him, the emptiness. I‘ve become aware of it.

Third day:
I can’t describe the amount of internal violence these developed cities can create inside of me. I wake up in the morning and I want to shout at someone, I go to work and I need to kill someone. I come back with a particular desire for random dancing or jumping.
In Berlin. I went to Bergheim. I let someone I don’t know kiss my neck. I saw people having sex in front of me. I masturbated, shuddered, took few drugs, not something heavy so I cried a lot. But there was a moment, or less, when I was unconscious. I woke up to say that I don’t want all this, I don’t want to repeat it. Then I took the way back home, for eight hours, with fast heart beats and high temperature. These memories – the details – are all not really true, because they don’t resemble me.

Forth day:
I missed the breakfast today because I am not interested. Everything that came out of me was just a reaction because I am such an emotional person. I am the mirror. Hahaha.

The fifth day:
While you were trying to imitate adults in their steps, you become a mean person who can’t handle seeing any kind of faults.
I would really like to forgive you, if I wasn’t guilty, too.

Day six – morning:
There is a new exercise I would like to practice, to look in people’s eyes while I am talking to them.
Excuse me, I thought I could cross over here. No, not the business class, I didn’t pay attention to the signs, yes there, he is also there, but I am not understanding.
I will be patient with things until I finish them. But the other things, my things which I love, I will repeat them every single day.

Geneva 30.03.2018


Farah Alnihawi

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