What to Write… As a Start
Well, I will start by telling the truth, and nothing but the truth…
It all started with a cheap red notebook in the middle school, at that time, it was my best friend, I wrote my secrets in it for years. I wrote about 50 pages in total using the only language I knew by then — Arabic.
In that nostalgic notebook, my writing was consisting of few paragraphs and poetry, mostly about love! I didn’t write by then anything related to sadness, anger or negative emotions that existed in the real life, because I was living in my own world, in which everybody and everything are blurred including myself, with exception of the girls I was falling in love with from time to time. Probably the only thing I was worried about, was me being without a real love — in middle school, I was looking for a real love -imagine that…
I kept on writing in the same notebook until my high school graduation. Then few years after that, I got my self a nice -fancy- notebook to start writing my real moments and memories. It was of the color of Autumn, yellow and brown with a hardcover as life itself. I started a new habit of siting on the top roof of my house and try to craft my memories with my ugly handwriting. My house is located at a hill where I can see Tartous city in Syria, the Mediterranean sea, Arwad -the small-too-close-to-shore island, Lebanese mountains and many Syrian hills and towns full of Olives tress. I can see it all in a panoramic view from my the top roof of my house, It is a fancy view, and hence, needed a fancy notebook.
My first subject I wrote was about few camping adventures with my friends. It was a success -in my opinion t least. I wrote many pages about many things, and till today, I can just go back, read what I have wrote and I can smell the desert at which my first camping took place, I can still feel its heat and chili nights, the emptiness and how close the stars looked in its night sky. Comparing to my old writings, I can call it a success…
Three years later, coming to the USA, forced me to cut-off writing regularly, because I couldn’t find the time, the place or the memories to write about. I spend my first year studying English on my own and working as dishwasher in a deli restaurant called Sammi’s Deli, which will become kind of my second home for the next 7 years or so. Then I worked on a 2-years degree in Programming which later I drooped out of it. I needed more challenges, So I started B.S. in Computer Engineering.
In this situation and for few years, you can tell, that my notebook was to be opened maybe once per year, only to be cleaned and preventing the dust from being mixed with my memories.
Finally, because every blog or article needs a summary, and because I don’t have one, I will finished this post by mentioning that most of what I’m writing here could be bull-shit and lot of mistakes to be made. However, I couldn’t just keep proof reading it because it will never be posted and I will never start my next post.