my favorite tailor

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It always impresses me how Picasso’s “La guernica” portraits me, and almost all of my close friends who have been through the same path more or less, except we look normal from the outside, the mess is only from the inside. I recognise how fragile my balance is when I can not engage in a conversation about how difficult it is to have your mother visit you over Easter while you have too much to study… my mom can’t visit me, that nice old lady will not see the beautiful red London buses or the stunning architecture. So yeah, I have more time to study; I will not have to be her tour guide in London, I will not take her to the Thames or London Eye. She will not see my room or the garden where I read my books.

My colleague was complaining how she doesn’t have time for her mom’s visit, while all I said was “Yeah, I know it must be difficult”, I showed a fake smile of sympathy and thought to myself, is it my fault that I don’t sympathise or that I get angry at this type of problems? I know that everyone is fighting their own battle, but why should my battle be this difficult? Why can’t I worry about my food not being organic enough or not having my vacation in the best island in Greece or even spending my birthday alone! These are the kind of problems my colleagues complain about on a daily basis, while I stay silent fearing if I talk about what worries me, I will hurt their feelings or ruin their evening. It worries me not to have a place to go to after I finish my masters because my country is not accommodating and is not a “pleasant” place to live in. It worries me not to ever see my mom again. It worries me that I don’t have a place to call home, the uncertainty, the loneliness, the exile of everything and everyone I love, death worries me… life too does… I wish I can just worry about global warming, then I would go every day to protest in front of Westminster with those nice people, but I am too broken to worry about the Earth. I wish I am that sane and sweet, but I am neither. If I am given the choice, I would probably choose to complain about the amount of field work I have to do, that I have to travel 70% of my time despite being paid three times more like that guy I met today, but I know I would be grateful to get a job unlike these people who would seize every opportunity to complain. I am not like them, I am broken. I would like to believe that I am unique because I left my pieces behind and tried to stitch myself nicely. I stitch myself on my own, I am not a good tailor, but I do my best. I do my best to be nice, to sympathise, to understand, and appreciate. I am not always a good tailor, but I am my favourite tailor.

I am sure that to other people in my country, I am like my colleagues who complain about spending their birthday alone. I live in London and I share nice photos on Instagram, oh God! We are all broken, but do I want to be fixed?

No, I don’t…

a year, a tear and a smile …

Two days ago, I typed the word “Levant woman” in google search engine, my blog was the first search result. I clicked on it and noticed an orange cup, it was the first time I get such a notification. I clicked on it and waited for it to tell me what is this cup standing for, the internet doesn’t always help me here. then this sentence appeared “Happy anniversary with wordpress.com!” ….

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yes, It’s been a year since I first tried to speak up my thoughts. That sentence made me smile and go back in time. It sounded a long long time to me, and that depressed sad lady who lost her way seems to have foggy lineaments that makes it hard for me to recognize she was “me” but the truth is, she’s really me, though my hair is longer than hers and my eyes are colder with less tears waiting on my hem. but we’re the same.

a year is a long long time…

In this long time I learnt that time doesn’t heal as we’ve been told.

I learnt that we don’t over come the pain in time unless we decide to.

I learnt that in time, we become the character we choose to play in life theater. if we choose to be the victim, we become what we choose. if we choose to be the hero, here we are , the heroes. it’s all about your attitude.

finally, I learnt that I’m the queen of the universe 🙂 and that was the most precious thing I discovered this year.