I must hurt you so good to reveal all this madness and ugliness. some people feels the insults deeply and they can’t forget when they get hurt. I get punished once for insulting someone for 3 years of my life, and I don’t know if he will still keep punishing me. First days of this month I was blogging a lot of shit on tumblr and I read many remarks for Hermann Hesse and Vladimir Nabokov. I’ve watched the danish girl it’s really beautiful and deeply breathtaking, so romantic and peaceful and the real painter Einar Wegener is a true hero. Monday, 6th of February, the weather is cold and sullen today, 14 degrees in the morning. Me, drinking coffee and touching my glasses and I feel like a real writer, I want to buy a typewriter one day so I can complete the image I’ve drawn in my imagination for myself. I want to write a thousand word in this month and hope for every month, just like September of 2016. It’s not a word race more than a mind trace, I want to organize my thoughts and experience writing many words on a paper and finally I’m finished for today. Tuesday, 7th of February, I was talking to an Egyptian man on Facebook, from long time I didn’t talk to someone and he’s a civil engineer by day and music producer by night. He made a beautiful song dedicated to me and he named it ” Ode to Somayah” I really loved it and he’s absolutely talented. We’ve shared photos of each other and I was shocked because he was black and I’ve never been in a relationship with a black person, although he likes me a lot but I’m sure that we will never be more than friends since I have enormous troubles with a black guy I’ve mentioned before in my previous journals. Saturday, 11th of February, today, I’m breathing and happy that I’m a live. I’m going to enjoy these small moments and I’m going to live in the moment without worries of tomorrow. I’m not going to carry the past for I’m a new person everyday, I’m not going to ask for more or less, I’m going to avoid distractions and I don’t want anything to disturb me in my journey through life. Tuesday, 14th of February is a rainy day with lots of memories and laughs. I read many citations for the poetic of space by Gaston Bachelard and this book is on my reading list. I remark, “We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world will never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.” And here he said: “And all the spaces of our past moments of solitude, the spaces in which we have suffered from solitude, enjoyed, desired, and compromised solitude, remain indelible within us and precisely because the human being wants them to remain so. He knows instinctively that this space identified with his solitude is creative; that even when it is forever expunged from the present, when, henceforth, it is alien to all the promises of the future, even when we no longer have a garret, when the attic room is lost and gone, there remains the fact that we once loved a garret, once lived in an attic. We return to them in our night dreams. These retreats have the value of a shell. And when we reach the very end of the labyrinths of sleep, when we attain to the regions of deep slumber, we may perhaps experience a type of repose that is pre-human; pre-human, in this case, approaching the immemorial. But in the daydream itself, the recollection of moments of confined, simple, shut-in space are experiences of heartwarming space, of a space that does not seek to become extended, but would like above all still to be possessed. In the past, the attic may have seemed too small, it may have seemed cold in winter and hot in summer. Now, however, in memory recaptured through daydreams, it is hard to say through what syncretism the attic is at once small and large, warm and cool, always comforting.” I’m in love with his poetic language and atmosphere, since we’re in Valentine’s Day, philosophy seemed glimmering in a new uniform; in his words and works. Monday, 20 of February, “you get ready you get all dressed up to go nowhere in particular, back to work or the coffee shop doesn’t matter cause it’s enough to be young and in love” Lana’s new single, I didn’t like it that much, she actually released it on 19th of February. It has her touch and like most of her song’s lyrics: young, dressed up, party dress, cruise, blues, crazy and so on. Hope I can complete more than 20 book this year, I usually read around this amount per year but this time I want to raise my attic.
Published by Somayah
Born in 8th of July, 1993. Jeddah, Saudi Arabia living in Taif now! somayah m. is a home-loving person, who values intelligence, paper journals and hot cup of chocolate on a winter night. I enjoy the peaceful moments, Mahmoud Darwish’s poetry, reflecting, reading & writing and never neglect the small things or the little enjoyments. View more posts