Saturday, 30 September 2017

Extract of My Travel diary #4

Day:  2 Aug, 2016
Location: Amsterdam, a random coffeeshop. 
Time: 3pm

"Unfortunately, whether we like it or not we're subject to circumstances and to the illness of our time.
-Vincent Van Gogh-  
I am standing in front of this giant quote on the walls of Van Gogh Museum. .
I proceed to look clumsily in my backpack for a pen then scribbled the quote in entrance's ticket.
I am shivering…
I am surrounded by tourists
I am alone…
But, I am finally here.
I can see with my own eyes the texture of his paintings, the strokes of the paint brushes , the dried driplets of watercolour.
This is something the little brown girl (I once was) could only dream of.
She only saw the paintings of Vincent in school manual and the wall of her school library.

Sunflowers: 

I was an awfully sad nine years old, struggling with issues I couldn't comprehend. I just lost a friend, the only friend I had. It shattered the notion of noble friendship I believed in before even knowing who Plato was.
During recess, to hide my loneliness from the other kids, I found refuge in the library of the catholic school. There I was introduced to the injustice and the filth ramping on earth when I read books such as Uncle's Tom Cabin (Slavery) and Friedrich (Prosecution of jews during Hitler's regime).

Sunday, 10 September 2017

Chronicles of a 20-ish Moroccan Lady #16


Welcome back,
Chapter 16: Insomniac Visions


01:39 a.m : My eyes are dry, yet wide open. The drugs on the nightstand didn't work. I am trying to capture all the messages running through my brain cells before they disappear into a hole of oblivion. 

02:45 a.m: In this pitch dark room, silence reign on an iron throne. A throne shaken by small revolutions like the sounds of steps on the floor above, noise of opening and closing doors, friendly fights in the neighbouring dorm, my stomach grunts. I am too lazy to close the faucet, drops of water creates a rhythmic torture. The most successful revolution of all is the soothing tribal pan flute melody coming from my roommate's speakers (it helps her sleep at night).

03:37 a.m: My soul is located in my lungs. I feel feathery and dissociated. I am entering a state of trance, an out-of-body experience. All the molecule of my body dissolved and through a tunnel I traveled to an island. Where in the globe? What timeline? God only knows!

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