A cloudy humid day for smudgy Maybelline mascara. For Haruki Murakami’s maze of people and indirect insults. For imagining a world without women. For allowing oneself to imagine a world without women. For really not being so self-centred. For letting oneself not think about oneself. For broken Havaianas and lazy drags of flip-flopped feet along sandy dusty cemented earthed floors. It is just the day to be horizontal. A day for counting bristled white hairs that suddenly grew out like barbed wire on my head. Today is a day for a health scare: A blessing in disguise. A day to pay a dire price for lack of self love. A day to realise the gift of health and how delicately balanced our intestinal flora is. A day to have GUTS to acknowledge how intuitive a woman’s organs are. To actually heal one’s gut, core, centre, soul. To stop cherry-picking and selecting what one sees, for heaven’s sake. It is the kind of day that one seeks so much to click on the Pause button. And then one clicks on it. A day to set the handles of the minutes to circle counter-clockwise. What a day it is to question and measure how grateful I have said I am and how grateful I actually am. It is really a good day to feel totally ashamed, and to be super self-critical, and to feel that it’s all out of mad love for my small self. I feel like it is the best day ever, in my almost-35-years of life, to face all of my saboteurs, all of them. They are all me and yet strangers to me. But it is also today that is a fun day to take out the storyteller child I always and and who knows me better than my sabotaging judges. We will go for a walk, or read a book together. And I will tell her things I said I never could. It is a day to stop thinking of the day. It is really just another day and far from just that! So much beyond that.
Beisan A. Alshafei
August 23rd, 2019
Beisan's Burble 