Static

https://soundcloud.com/petitbiscuit/night-trouble

The age of protest, against everything.

When a seed is planted in clutter, and it grows into a flower

It will realize its misplacement

It will try build its own empire because they say nothing’s holding it down, but rain will pour and thunder will break it stem because the world would have just witnessed another rebel

If fighting against clutter is a sin, consider me the devil.

What does it mean for one to not want to sit around anyone for too long?

It means one simply can’t. Don’t think too much.

It also implies one is angry- and if one sits around people for too long, one will hurt them.

one is angry. I am one.

When I say I can’t sit around anyone for too long I mean everyone- even family.

As a matter of fact it’s more intense with them than it is with anyone else, because I don’t think I’m capable of saying the things they would like, therefore the mouthguard I wear around them transforms events and stories into ones they’d be intrigued to know about- or agree with.

When do spoken words turn mute?

When they’re of little importance to someone else.

One is mute- I am one.

I like to argue against ideas I do not support

I like to test myself sometimes.

If you convince me, It’s game over. I shut up.

I’ve lived around a phenomenon for the longest time possible- I even developed a name for it

I like to call it “Mulism”

Relax it’s Mulism not Muslim

Mulism derives from the word Mule- بالعربي: تيس

And it describes the case of not absorbing facts and proven support against the pre-conceived notions passed down generations.

I’m not implying that science overrules everything, but logic does- I was given a brain to think beyond what make no sense to me.

I once interfered in a discussion about how it’s not only the man’s fault for causing rape, but some of the blame falls on the girl too for not covering up. My arguments were the following:

1. I know females covered from head to toe who still cannot sleep to the memory of someone pinning them down

2. When someone bluntly states in the name of religion how removing the plastic wrap off a piece of candy contaminates it with dirt, don’t expect me as a woman with self-respect to very pleasantly take that in because I really don’t see myself as candy thank you very much.

3. I believe it’s the air that should be de-contaminated, not the piece of candy.

In other words, stop praising boys for getting girls while righteous girls with pure intentions are often openly referred to as candy.

Afterwards, the person I very clearly silenced proceeded after what seemed like his minute long pause of brain nothingness and static, with the word “kofor” meaning “paganism”.

At that point I was truly convinced that no one will ever have the power to convince me to look at the glass half-full because the moment I take a look around to give the world another chance, my neck stiffens to the sight of nothing.

Not using your brain is disbelief on it’s own, disbelief in god, humans, and the organ’s ability to keep you alive, but what might not make sense to me, can also mean the world to someone else.

There is no identity in anyone, they’re all just zombies swept away with promise for money and safety!

Where’s the safety when my soul is being beat up by the second in complete disorientation because it knows nothing about itself.

It’s not prayer, nor the devil who beats me up mother. I know It’s not. It’s the world.

Maybe I cannot get myself out of this state of anger because everything firing up inside of me is a reaction to all blank spaces I am trying to fill with the truth, but can’t seem to do so because I can’t even get past myself.

I can’t even decode the truth to myself, how am I expected to live in certainty?

It kills me to know that the pillow I sleep on every night witnesses more of myself than I do.

I am anxious, and scared.

I can’t keep wearing the blindfold I was handed since birth.

I am anxious about the jobless future the current economy is promising me with.

I am anxious about how everyone is somehow totally okay with the fact that we’re practically breathing poisoned air that rusts out our lungs

Like batteries

First-hand poison

Second-hand pollution

and our generations die very slowly.

I’m anxious about all the flat lines I see, no variation. Uniformity at its finest…

I’m anxious because I think too much and my brain never stops working

I’m anxious because I can’t stay awake in a 2-hour class without 2 mugs of coffee and a panic attack by the stairs

I’m anxious because my ego drags people to pour glue over my car handles, yet my ego is the only thing keeping me alive

I am anxious because again, If I were to exit this delusion I was brought into and step into the real world, I wouldn’t know how to survive.

I’m also anxious because if I were to be asked who I am; I would have no answer.

Just static.

I was once told that when in doubt, I should always remember that I’m on a scholarship. This happened when I opened up about a portion of what worries me- (something I choose not to do very often)

Once I am slapped across the face with real life, I can’t pull out my scholarship and expect all complications to magically vanish away. If I were to be defined by my scholarship, then I sure as hell don’t know any more to tell the world who I really am other than a scholarship student.

The nightmare of self-doubt haunts and it makes my mind think too much

Am I secretly hidden where I am not tied down by society, control, or the box I have learned to adapt in? Maybe I’m lurking somewhere I can sit alone and think for myself only. What is good for me? What makes me happy? How can I achieve my own emotional stability? How will I know that all my surroundings are around me for real? When will I not be afraid of getting in touch with my feelings?

Somewhere I feel powerful enough to voice myself, without being spoken over.

Where I can look around and find no difference in the way I am treated- not because you’re afraid of the word feminism and you’re repulsed by it, but because but it’s 2019 and people still manage to openly practice sexism.

Somewhere I feel safe to express my thoughts without experiencing the agony of having my tongue cut with scissors

Where I can wake up every morning feeling worthy, without the weight of a boulder on my chest

Farfetched much?