By Majd Radwan
So tell me, what do you do when you’re not having fun anymore? What is your plan to fill the gaps in your heart; and what’s left of your time on this earth?
Tell me about the hidden demons, the strange and discreet unease inside, and the vacant look in your eye.
Tell me about the urge to disappear, and the reason behind every heart beat of yours.
Tell me about the long-sought love, the not-yet-felt-contentement, the aspirations locked in the drawer, and the overwhelming power that draws you to your own company each time the surroundings fail to touch you.
Tell me about your sorrows, and if you ever managed to uncover the hidden message behind their existence. How does it feel to stitch a broken heart?
Tell me about your first reaction to anything, your nostalgia, your first love and your first kiss.
Tell me, how does it feel to carry a heavy weight that doesn’t even belong to you? does it leave you the time to watch the smile on your child’s face?
Tell me about the golden bars of the cage, the handcuffing obligations, and the forgotten wide-open-door. How does it feel to swim with the current and cut all ties with the poetry of simply living?
Tell me when your tear becomes warmer and your smile is brighter?
Tell me, when was the last time you watched the sunset? or sent wishes with the wind on a starry night. When was the last time you stopped counting days, and threw your watch away?
And then tell me, is it worth it? To trade your soul for a flat life, to tame your wildness for security, and to worship forced interactions instead of celebrating the rawness within.
Is it worth it? To stick to normal instead of testing the bonds of your imagination only to discover that there are none, to hold on to patterns while you have the whole world to shape and re-shape, to shut down your sense of wonder instead of enjoying blissfully the odds all around that you took for granted for so long.
Tell me, tell me that it’s time, time to wake up to the fact that you are here to Be, not to Become.