We’re 24 days into 2021, and I haven’t even begun to write any 2021 resolutions, or check any of the simple tasks I had in mind, or even begin to think of how my days post lockdown will look like. Is it going to the same? Is it everchanging?
I feel like, for now, I am floating, and not necessarily in a good way, but not necessarily in a bad way either. It’s as if I am walking on a light cloud, and the only thing that is keeping me from falling is pure luck, or maybe the big guy has more important things to deal with that he’s letting me wobble around for a while.
I’ve had a serene week, away from the hustle of the city and the people and the empty streets, and close to the people dearest to my heart. This is now considered a usual, an addictive getaway that, if lost, will hurt so much. I watched the first snow of the year, and I felt the warmth radiating from my people as we snuggled next to the chimney, laughing at everything and nothing in particular.
I think this has been said already here and outside of here, but what would I do to live in a moment. I wouldn’t want to repeat the whole day, just one moment out of it all, one moment when it was too idyllic to think of horrid or the bleak little somebody living in me. Is that how heaven is? Letting us relive our happiest moment over and over and over, with the same mindset and bliss?
But… I’ve been overthinking; I’ve been overthinking a lot. I can’t say this week was similar to the others, I can’t say I was similar to the person I was, and it weirded me out, to be honest. There was something off about how I anticipated my surroundings and the way I felt about everything. Could it be that, as always, the closeness suffocated me? Or could it be that we weren’t close enough?
I’m not sure.
I do know that I need to sort some things out, put some new rules and regulations to myself so I stop repeating all my previous experiences because honestly, this is getting ridiculous. I can’t continue living the same events every time.
I’ve never felt like I’m multitasking more than right now, and I thought I’d share this with you. Right now I’m in an online communications meeting with work, and I’m listening to an online class (social philosophy) on my phone, and I’m translating texts, and I’m planning next week’s getaway in my head, and I’m also preparing Instagram stories for FoodBlessed.
Ah, and I am also blogging.
What else? Well it’s raining, and it’s cold again. Thank you for the rain, I highly appreciate it.
One of the many things that affected my mood the past two weeks-other than the obvious, of course, is that we are in January, and I was wearing sleeveless PJs because it is not cold enough.
How bad is that? It just started raining, and we’re in the middle of January! This is a catastrophe. This should not be accepted nor repeated. January exists for heating and coldness and chestnuts, not light blankets and PJs. This is a crime.
I’m glad it’s cold again, and if my plans for next worked out, I will be sitting near a chimney with my favorite people in the world drinking hot chocolate and singing loudly on the tunes of an oud or a guitar.
I woke up today with a newly acquired optimism, even though I think I have developed a new fear that I hope doesn’t get worse.
Today is the first day of a full 24 hours lockdown, as in I need to order my grocery home, and I need to fill an online form to obtain a permit and go out. I’m looking at the usually bustling street, and it’s empty. A car or two passes now and then, but that’s that. Everyone’s home, warm and unsafe, and some are less privileged to have a home and are hiding from the rain, cold and unsafe.
And I am scared. I’m not sure if I developed this feeling after my days of forced isolation, or it’s a behavior I developed throughout the terrific 2020, but I think I am scared of loneliness; I’m scared of being alone.
And I’m not saying sitting by myself alone. Whether I am walking, in a bookstore, getting my coffee, or in a mall, I love being by myself, I enjoy doing all of this alone. I think I am scared of being alone in general, as in living with no one by my side, having no one to talk to or see when I want to.
The fear of emptiness is something I know I had a long time ago. I am scared of having nothing, of the blankness, of a bleak, I am scared of being in one place my whole life and have no yesterday or tomorrow. This is why I find commitment much harder than it should because commitment is bounding to a certain one thing, and I am not sure I can do this. I always make sure I tell myself that with everything going on in my life, I have the option to walk out.
Well, one thing I know for sure is that I’m looking forward to my therapy session on Monday.
I was never a Charles Bukowski fan. Maybe because I thought he is overrated, a name used on Tumblr photos and social media posts, people using a famous name to reflect a vague virtual knowledge, or maybe because his poems don’t rhyme, and I love my poems to be always rhyming. Still, I never gave much attention to him.
Lately, he has been recommended by more than one friend, and I’ve been reading some of his best poems, and I must say, he can be good. It’s different when you read something that is a friend’s “favorite,” it has a different feeling, and there is a higher possibility you’ll like it only because it is a dear friend’s favorite.
Today, I stumbled upon another poem of his: Bluebird. It hit differently, much stronger darkness than I anticipated. I’m not sure if it’s because I heard it before I read it that it has a louder voice, or if it’s because the words are loud enough on their own, but the poem is screaming at me.
As I read it, it hurt me. It’s so personal. To me, it was so obvious that the bluebird is anxiety and depression; the bluebird symbolizes the darkness that Bukowski feels and the many attempts (whiskey, cigarettes, whores, and bartenders) he tries to keep it inside him. Because he knows that people won’t accept him if it’s out, his book sales in Europe will be affected, and if he let himself feel, it will mess him up.
But as I read through the video comments, the commenters had different opinions; they did not relate the bluebird with anxiety and depression. Some said it is innocence, true self, freedom, soul, and even vulnerability.
It struck me that each individual affiliated the bluebird with what they fear most, the thing they fear to show. To some, it’s the liberation of sorrow, and to others, it’s the liberation of life. When I first heard it, I thought it’s beautiful, but when I read people’s analysis, I fell in love.
I love feeling things I read, and bluebird is one of them.
There’s a bluebird in my heart That wants to get out but I’m too tough I say: “Stay in there I’m not going to let anybody see” There’s a bluebird in my heart That wants to get out but I pour whiskey I take a cigarette so the whores The bartenders, the grocery clerks Never know that he is in there There’s a bluebird in my heart That wants to get out but I’m too tough I say: “Stay down Do you wanna mess me up? Do you wanna screw up all of my works?” There’s a bluebird in my heart That wants to get out but I’m too clever I only let him out at night sometimes When everybody sleeps I say: “I know that you’re there Don’t be so sad, ” that’s what I said Then I put him back but he’s always singing I don’t let him die and we sleep together Like that with our secret pact It’s nice enough to make a little man weep But I don’t weep, do you? It’s nice enough to make a little man weep But I don’t weep, do you? There is a bluebird messing with my heart What should I do with this little bird? There is a bluebird messing with my heart What could I do with this little bird? I’m turning into a bird, I’m turning into a bird So I will fly with this melancholy
I started writing this on Monday during a work break. I didn’t continue writing as the day got busy and I chose to go back to work. Later that day I went out with very dear friends who make me laugh from the bottom of my heart. I obviously can’t finish this either, but sharing:
(Also LOL on planning a day in the sun for Friday)
The last Monday of 2020, and I’m sitting in my office on a day where I was supposed to be working from home, but voluntarily chose to show up, and I’m listening to Edge of Desire by John Mayer, so obviously I’m feeling idyllic and very much in love.
It’s ironic, right? I voluntarily woke up at 6:30 am, and I was at the office an hour earlier than 9:00 am my working hour, and I was the only person here for hours before Feras came in, and now Radwan and Walaa. This is all on a Monday and a few days before the end of the remarkable 2020.
I wanted to finish and publish the posts that I have started but didn’t finish, and I found this written on Christmas day. So I have no idea why I didn’t finish it, but I don’t think I can finish it now, as I am not feeling the same bliss I did back then. Sharing, nonetheless:
It’s Christmas, people; it’s that time of year where everything is so Godly and beautiful, and all the other things fade away. It’s Christmas; I hope you’re having a merry one.
I just painted my nails black, and I have my heating pad warming my freezing feet, and I’m still listening to the same songs I was listening to while I was car cruising an hour ago, and I’m so in love with this world.
It’s not a feeling of apathy, and it’s not fear, it’s just
I’ve written the first sentence of this and erased it three times now, and not because it’s too hard or because I don’t have anything to say, it’s just that I can’t find a main idea for this to focus on.
Like, I want to tell you about the fact that I was smiling to myself today for absolutely no reason, and I want to tell you that I walked this morning to work. It was so refreshing and dark, and it started raining while at the office, and it was cold, which is probably why I was smiling all day long to myself, but I don’t know how to put it.
I’m so content this Christmas, I’m so happy with the impact we are making, and I’m grateful for the people around me. I’m always feeling this wholesome around Christmas, but this year is different, I guess.
I haven’t been feeling lonely for a while, the loneliness that has haunted me my whole life. For the first time I ever, I don’t feel as lonely; I don’t feel like I’m carrying mountains on my shoulders alone. The loneliness, it’s still there, but it’s not as severe as it has always been,
I’m changing; I know I am. It is so bizarre, but the way I feel and think has changed in a few months; I feel like I grew up ten years from May until this day; it’s insane how much my views and feeling and the way I see everything have changed dramatically. I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is temporary bliss, but it’s a new thing, and for the first time, I’m okay with a new thing.
Does it have to do with somebody? Something? Someplace? It might, and I might have the answer to all of this, but I won’t admit it to myself, let alone to you, and it might be a temporary bliss that will soon leave me aching. (but I’m trying so hard not to think about this)
But for the first time in years, I’m not trying to get away. I do not feel like escaping; I suddenly don’t want to run away. Suddenly, I want to stay here, with you, in this coldness, and this darkness, and this mysterious feeling of hopelessness and relevance at the same time.
Suddenly, I am looking at people and sigh with relief at how beautiful they are. I am smiling as my heart is so full of loving them. For the first time in many years, I do not want to run away; I want to stay here.
I saw you today, and I realized that you affect me a lot. I talk a lot like you, I act a lot like you, and I am beginning to feel the way I think you do. It’s odd, right? To start feeling the same way somebody else feels about things. I know identification; I just never thought it could go this far.
Your influence on me is so bizarre because ever since I met you, we both were so bizarre, and I don’t know how we lasted or why I still count days to see you or why I still use your words, but you influence me a lot.
It’s still there, the feeling I get when you’re in a room, like a camera focusing on one body and blurring everything else in the room; that’s how I feel whenever you are around me. I lose my sense of listening or seeing anyone but you. It’s like when you appear; everything stops existing; it’s only you.
I love the way you talk or act; I do, it’s not like other people, and it’s unique. I find myself studying your every move because I know it will be different, and I know it will be unpredictable. I find myself in an enigma of trying to understand you yet personally preferring you stay this way, someone that I can’t predict what their next move would be.
Today wasn’t my favorite time seeing you; it was normal, and even below normal. I didn’t see you much anyway, but I noticed the way you looked at me that one time as if I’m special, as if there was no one but me. I saw your eyes smiling, and I loved that a lot.
I love it when you talk to me, and I can’t help but remember if I felt this way the very first time I saw you, and maybe thought to myself; “hey, he talks so special, let me study his every move,” or if this interest struck me after, after all that happened.
Why am I like this? Anticipating everything and still getting so happy to see you. I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t understand you, and it’s painfully mind-blowing. Can you help me understand the way you feel towards me? Can I, please, know what you want of me? And can you, for the love of gods and everything almighty, talk to me more?
I saw you today, and it made me think a lot, of you, of me, of us. I thought of you because you ever are so charming, and I thought of me because you affect me so much; it’s study-worthy, and I thought of us because, damn, what are we?
I wrote this inspired by one of my favorite poems (ask me about it, if interested):
You are trembling my dear but this is not what I meant When I told you what they said to me and how it felt That time I saw you late at night so heaven sent They said you’re a beast, a creature so hell-bent
It drove me away, the way they described your lazy eyes They told me you lurk whiskey and you smell like ugly lies You laugh with yellow teeth and an ego I despise Your shirts are thrifted and your shoes are incise
They said you’re no good but I needn’t be wary As you don’t come close, you distance, very Then why do you sit next to me, it’s scary Why did you come close in this huge lonely ferry
You’re trembling my dear, as I tell you what they spoke Do I hand you a cigarette? Do you crave a last smoke? I won’t hide my hate for you and I don’t mean to provoke But how can you be so beastly? I hope you choke
Love of my life, you hurt me I’ve been trying to get away, to be free It is true what they spoke, but I couldn’t see That you are a sin and all this, it mustn’t be
I hope you die because I can’t rid of you any other way I know you’re a predator and I was a passing prey But I still prefer you than a world with you away I still choose you over me any gloomy day
You are trembling my dear for you stand defeated You told me you are toxic, and very much conceited But you didn’t tell me about your victims and how they were treated You told me you are no good but then my intuition you greeted
I know you are soulless because of what she did You gave your all and she left you amid She took your favorite sweater and away she slid And ever since then you cut out hearts to feel vivid
She wore her red lipstick and gave you a smile As if you’re socks that got out of style She kissed you goodbye and you lingered for a while In trauma, you wondered: how can I survive?
You look at your victim’s eyes and all you see is hers You cry as there is much melancholy your heart bears And then another girl smiles at you, a wink she even dares And you think: let me fill my lustful void with theirs
So you kill to get over her and you chose me to kill But I know what you are, so ugly and so ill So I think of killing my own self, to jump a hill I won’t let you get to me, your revenge to fulfill
You are trembling my dear for you will get your desire I stand at the top of the bridge and I look at you with ire I loved you a lot, I still do it’s dire But I won’t let you kill me, I’ll be my own misfire
You are trembling my dear for you realize what you have done She threw you to the wolves, left you undone And you wanted to do the same with me, kill and run So I chose to jump off the bridge on my own, I will be gone
You were beautiful my dear, an angel in the dark Wears cheap perfume, it stains and leaves a mark I won’t be very far away, I’ll be a skylark So every time you see a skylark you say: Here lies the girl that loves me, and there flies the proud skylark
This is me getting back on my coffee challenge for this week. I finished it, and I loved it because 1) it helped me finish tasks I should’ve finished weeks ago in the areas where the coffee shops are, and 2) I got to drink coffee.
I’ll be breaking down the list of coffees I tried this week; the story behind the coffee shop, and the coffee itself, but before all of that, I have a few disclaimers to start with:
Disclaimer #1 my knowledge of coffee is zero. I love drinking diverse coffee, but I have no academic background in anything coffee-related, and I don’t find myself appreciating high-end coffee; I only know that Ethiopean black coffee is an amazing energy boost because my waiter friend at my old favorite coffeeshop (now closed) would tell me; “looks like you’re staying here for a while, let me get you an Ethiopian black coffee to stay awake.”
I’m just a very coffee drinker enthusiast, and I love trying all kinds of coffee. Thereby, my feedback is purely based on illiteracy and my love for coffee shops and the aforementioned.
Disclaimer #2 I’m not sure yet, but I might have missed the blissful sparkle I was feeling last week, but I’m not sure yet. I know that having Black and Breaking The Habit on repeat isn’t a good sign, but I’ll try to keep this as cheerful or neutral from whatever I’m feeling as possible.
Day 1; Starbucks
First things first, no, I don’t love Starbucks for its glamour; I genuinely love their coffee, I genuinely find it so good. My favorite is Caramel Macchiato, and it’s absolutely addictive, much to my pocket’s despair.
Any notable story: Just one. It was back in June of this year, and it was during my 4 days anxiety blackouts. I left home at 6 pm on terrible terms, and I had work outside of Beirut, and I could not stop crying all the way. When I finished, it was already 9pm, and I knew I could not go back home.
I waited 30mins until I found a car, with 3 men inside, that agreed to get me to a place close to Beirut. They let me ride with them until I found a bus, which took me to a place close to a Starbucks. Not having anything to eat since morning, I got myself a Caramel Macchiato and walked another 30mins to my best friend’s old abandoned house that I had the keys to (I spent the night there, but that’s a story for another time). I felt like death, and the only warmness was my coffee, so thank you, @starbucks (sponsor me, will ya?).
Day 2; Concierge
Concierge is a cute little coffee shop in Badaro, with a very cozy interior and perfect quietness for studying/working remotely. I had Caramel Macchiato, which tasted good, but not how I remember it used to taste like.
Any notable story: Concierge was the last place I went out to before the March COVID-19 lockdown. I had happy moments there, but they need to brew their coffee the way they used to.
Day 3; Backburner
The reason why I chose Backburner is to try a new coffee shop that has been on my list for a while. I tried their Spanish Latte; it’s good; the coffee is a bit intense but in a pleasant way, but it was way too sweet, which I later discovered is one of the specialties for Spanish Latte.
Any notable story: Not much, but I met our head of office’s husband there, so that was a bit awkward. I also tried out their chocolate chip cookie, which was INSANELY expensive, and I regretted not asking for its price before I bought it.
The size of my overly expensive cookie. Look at the size.
Day 4; B Hive
B Hive might be the busiest coffee shop in all of Beirut, maybe as crowded as Sip. I love their B Hive Latte, and I love their friendly waiters, who I for sure find more common topics with than the husband of my head of office.
Any notable story: old B Hive, the one in a building with a small nice garden and a snug upstairs studying area, was my to-go studying coffeeshop at university because it was quiet and because my friend liked it. I don’t get how people still can study and work in it now with all the crowding and buzz.
Day 5; a coffee from a street espresso
We all know this only tastes good when we are cold, thirsty, hungry, or not feeling okay. I personally love it a lot when they don’t overdo it with Coffee-Mate and condensed milk.
Any notable story: I never enjoyed street coffee until 3ammo Abu Mohammad, our coffee guy from FoodBlessed’s office. He might be more home to us than our actual homes, went through so much with us, so many days where we ate nothing and only drank his coffee. “It’s 3000 LBP for everyone, but it’s 2500 LBP for you,” he tells us every time. (It’s 2500 LBP for everyone)
