Mushy

I've been writing things but feeling too restricted to post. I don't feel like it's the safe quiet blog like it used to. I've been reading psychologies magazine , a new addiction, and there was a good article about creative writing. The advice is wake up 30 minutes earlier and write whatever comes to mind even when you don't know what to write about just stare at the wall and write what you see. When you're done, don't read what you wrote, just hide it and that's it. The mind in the morning is most clear of the day's worries so it's the best time for creative writing.

Most of my writings are done this way, not in the morning ofcourse since I'm usually rushing to work, but whenever inspiration hits in, pouring it in to paper or keyboard, saving it, and not reading it gives the best results. The more you think, delete or correct, the more it gets difficult.

There were many times in which I posted then deleted what I wrote. I hope I don't get to do this anymore. Flamingoliya, just pretend blogspot is your safetybox, and that no one is reading, except some dear ones whom their inbox sometimes gets filled with my random thoughts.

This Arabic piece is edited by Broke , many thanks to her!
Updated at 3:00 PM

بين ليلة و ضحاها

وجدت نفسي أسيرة لإهتمامه

لرجولته

لسلطته

و لأشياء كثيرة

لم تهزني في رجل غيره

أنا التي لطالما عشقت الحرية

أصبحت في قفصه .. بلا جناحين

أطير

أطير

أطير

فكلمة منه تروي روحي

المتعطشة للكلام الجميل

و همسة منه تجلعني أرى

الحائط الأبيض أمامي أخضراً

و صوت دعايات ام بي سي تو

عصافير مغردة

و لكن يا لسعادتي و شقائي

بما يفعله في دنياي و قلبي

فحبنا بلا أمل

و إعجابي بلا تعبير

و أمام كل تلك الحواجز

التي تفصلنا عن بعضنا

لا أملك إلا أن أحبه عن بعد

و أمضي

I am put on hold
My life stands still
I enjoy the moment
and wish it lasts forever

Chambers of my heart
are filled with his love
but once reality bites
my chambers empty
because of messages my brain sends
that vacums every rust
every stain
leaving me with only pain

Pain that withers
but then blooms
as soon as I listen to his tunes
be careful, go to sleep, it's not safe there
All birds are chippering
in my hearts trees

Let us both agree
to worship this devine love
this sacred insanity
Let us grow
let us play
let us run
let us sing
let us tickle
what is left in our hearts chains

I don't know why, but sometimes I hate reading people's mushy posts. I wish no one feels this way when reading mine!