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.
By Majd Radwan
I’m a defiant spirit, unruly and hard to handle, rebellious fire against all parrot-like behaviors.
The words system, authority, control (and sometimes sharing) make me nauseated and alienated. I may look normal, but if you stare long enough in my eyes you’ll get burnt. Don’t try to tame me with boring normal rules. What makes me furious or content is hidden in the last sources you’d expect.
You get to choose to stay around my storms or leave peacefully to your favorite comfort zone.
If you expect the below list to include words such as love me, hold me, I need you, I’m sensitive, don’t make me cry, then you live on Earth and I on Mercury.
* Don’t bring me half-dead innocent flowers. Let’s just sit on a bench outside, contemplate the same flowers swaying lively with breeze. Now this is romantic.
* Don’t hush me if my voice helplessly rose. Get your soul closer and never say a word. It’s all about the distance between our souls.
* Don’t buy me lingerie on special occasions, for you’ll be only gifting yourself. Bring me your true self, with few warmhearted words, and your name on it.
* Don’t seek perfection with me, it’s boring. I’d rather spend the night talking and laughing about our small and big flaws than worshiping our ultimate achievements.
* Don’t tell me you feel I’m too much for you… for that will make you not as much for me. Seek my empathy, not my pity. Remember: you’re my man.
* Don’t frame me with adjectives such as delicate and romantic, for wilderness and wildness are my two main hidden characters that may make a glowing rainbow of me. Dig in deeper.
* Don’t take off your clothes in front of me on purpose… the intention to act sexy without spontaneity is not sexy at all.
* Don’t sit in the very same room with me because you have to sit in the very same room with me. Go find your passion. Follow it. There is no rule but one: there are no rules.
* Don’t take me for granted, for edges and cliffs are my passion.
* Don’t read books about Venusian women. It’s individual. Know that I feel humiliated if you keep telling me how beautiful I am.
* Leave out the pointless concepts of domination, possessiveness, and expectation. Ban them from roaming poisonously between us. They’re no relatives to love, they’re its worst enemy.
* Don’t drag me to pointless conversations. Take a 10-minute rest before judging the situation, let calmness sweep the air around, and peace shall be found.
* Don’t ask me to show you all of my sides, for each moment comes with its own emotion. Give up the flashlight, and plant a seed of love instead. You will definitely be showered with warmth.
* Don’t judge me by my short skirt or hot lipstick. Take a glance at my library. Watch me while I’m asleep, or hugging my child.
* Don’t try to shape me. Take me wholly, a package of transparency and mystery, advantages and flaws.
* Don’t ask me to wear pink because I’m a woman and I’m supposed to wear pink. Embrace my differences. I shall be more feminine in blue.
Chers men, they may come as clear as the sound of a bell, or disguised as a dark shadow of a good act, an unintended letdown, small gestures of yours that may have a negative effect on your woman, especially if she’s one of those accurate observers of details and echo-feelers.
Here’s a hint that it’s happening: read your woman when you say or do something for her. Pay attention to this empty smile, blank look, opaque tinge on her face. These signs happen in a fraction of a second, then comes her thoughtful reaction followed by a long silence.
They’re so different from her reaction to a wonderful surprise, just so different. This is it — the nudge, the alert that you’re coming across poorly, a quick wave of disappointment is spraying her up, even with your good intentions.
If you feel the burdensome responsibility weighing your shoulders about this whole thing, then read again.
You must have missed that all it takes is a big bunch of your mindfulness to turn her back on.