My lost writing journal
I always dreamed of having a writing notebook.
An aesthetic little journal that looks perfect.
No ink stains and no ripped papers.
I always failed.
My writings are as messy as I am.
Just like the scattered clothes around my room, my writings were everywhere.
The ink stained paper in my bag.
The last page of my university's notebook.
My writings are scattered around Cairo.
That wall in Zamalek.
That bench in Sheikh Zayed.
"Rip the papers before you throw them in the trash." my mother always said.
But how will I rip all the papers I left all over Egypt?!
How will I gather all those pieces of my scattered mind and rip them just for the sake of hiding my deepest secret?!
One day I will own a journal and one day I will purposely lose it because I knew my writings were meant to be as lost as I am.
An aesthetic little journal that looks perfect.
No ink stains and no ripped papers.
I always failed.
My writings are as messy as I am.
Just like the scattered clothes around my room, my writings were everywhere.
The ink stained paper in my bag.
The last page of my university's notebook.
My writings are scattered around Cairo.
That wall in Zamalek.
That bench in Sheikh Zayed.
"Rip the papers before you throw them in the trash." my mother always said.
But how will I rip all the papers I left all over Egypt?!
How will I gather all those pieces of my scattered mind and rip them just for the sake of hiding my deepest secret?!
One day I will own a journal and one day I will purposely lose it because I knew my writings were meant to be as lost as I am.
