• Amira

where i am right now.

Updated: Oct 27, 2019

Why do I always feel like venting here, on this soft paper version of a what feels like a diary. A diary that is open to the world. I know people are not attached to websites as they used to be and of course I know hardly anybody reads these days so sometimes I think I'm talking to myself and other times I think I'm talking to myself in front of the world. Am I making any sense?

I don't care, because as i just said, I am here to vent.

I kind of lied before when I asked why do I always feel like venting here. I kind of know exactly why I'm venting here. I am a writer. A writer who tries to avoid writing because it brings out too much of...me.

Sometimes I think that's a good thing, other times, not so much. But on days like today, when I am not feeling my best but I am very hopeful of what is to come, I want to write every thought that my mind holds.

Ever since I was 6 years old, my father would get me to write about anything and everything and it was the preferred means of communication in out home. Everyday before bedtime and prior to my one hour of reading I would need to write a couple of lines at least about how my day has gone.

I never felt like I was forced to write, if anything, I always felt privileged to. That's the way I was raised. My mom and dad would tell me to write about whatever I wanted as long as I was writing. That sort of freedom opened so many different doors in mind within the realm of imagination and depiction of reality. I was telling my side of the story and the whole story, for that matter, all the time, in my own words. The world began when my pen was put on paper and ended when I took it off.

You see I have been struggling for a while with what I want to do next. This has always and I think will always continue to be an issue for me. I just can't seem to relax and take it easy. I think this stems from believing that in this stage of my life, during these years is when I am supposed to make the most out of every thought and idea I have. Everyday is a new struggle and it is also the same struggle.

It seems I cannot cope with this routine and yet I love it. What's wrong with me. I love what I do but I don't like being confined in an office to do it. And thus, some days I am alright and others I want to escape. I feel suffocated.

The pursuit of a purpose.

Oh the pain of living.

- Amira Shohdi


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