Photo by: Mohamed Tarek
Before you run out of perfectly squared sided shares, eat the first slice of toast.
Drive on a deserted shortcut of unpaved broken roads, covered with sand and rocks, with the car radio on instead of a playing purchased CD to decamp from a predicted crowd.
The order for the keys of Mozart’s piano ringing in the background as you dine, or the New Orleans’ Jazz music electrifying your dynamic soul, as you hang out with friends in a frayed pub, shelter you from your very own chaotic thoughts.
Buying a staining ink newspaper every morning and listening to the forecast as you head, is where you would like to be.
Thinking and believing that whatever is cooked at the moment, takes you somewhere better where the absolute design of a perfect future resigns.
Remember when the smirk curling on your father’s lips was your treat. Your mother’s cooking, that couldn’t match that of any restaurant, was what you longed for. Sketches of your plan were bigger than you and your little hands were blackened with carbon that you never needed coffee or assurance. Your mind was your mere inspiration for the time and the world was your playground where all you needed was your inborn potential.
We seem to fall in love with what made us feel familiarized and happy; only when happiness was more of a feeling than a word. Nostalgic, we all are, to someone, to something and obliviously to ourselves.
Memories of what broke us, have us corrupted. We forgot the ones of what we honor when once we had the courage to stand up to everyone, speak our minds and hearts out, rebel, and persist. We neglect the serene life we always fancied. Now, we accept and play victims of all that consumes us.
In weddings and graduation ceremonies, we vow, but never to ourselves.
I take a stand now, don’t you?
I vow to eat the first slice of the toast and turn on the car radio,
I vow to take the turbulent road,
I vow to make my younger self-proud and speak my mind and soul,
I vow to accept only what I know I deserve and to do everything I love, even if no one does it anymore.
Furthermore, I vow to let those who need to remember, be reminded to vow to do right by themselves.
Edited by: Jasmine Yehia