lately i’ve been changing the google chromecast’s photo gallery to rotate the ones i used to have on facebook. images of the past resurface – people i have not seen for more than a decade, from high schools to colleges to university to my own family and the random outing with friends.
it is strange to glimpse the past before the age where every inch of your private life was online – ones from the short-lived handheld video of my father back in 2009 – my brothers – one on a summer break after his accident in cairo – another one about to depart to america, while searching for myself. was i ever a subject?
there is a certain charm of videos recordings – they are unadulterated, video wasn’t something you performed for, it is just life happening and the recorder is a mere spectator, or at least passive interviewer. emotions were more raw.
n comes around for dinner with sonia, and we talk of schooling and religious upbringings. it is indeed strange, this combination of the four of us, somewhat drifted away far from our countries all the way to germany talking about growing up with ideas of islam then slowly one by one renouncing faith or belief in its significance. she celebrates her passing as a doctor the day after, and we celebrate with ananas prosecco and ritz.
therapy session number #8. i notice myself to have more clarity, as i describe to andrea things that have happened in life in general. i am still not sure to this day, what is the end goal of these things, but i begin to appreciate her techniques of actually drawing out clear bubbles of thoughts and patterns, although i might not apply them myself. i appreciate mundanity, nodding to feelings of accomplishment and bravery, where i would’ve discarded myself to ‘it was nothing’ months ago. progress, perhaps? as long as the insurance pays.
my fight with f intensifies. with each spatula unwashed , each sigh dropped, and each growing silence, each closing of the door – i believe, and it is only me, that my patience has almost run out. or my ego has gotten the better of me. i have outgrown my former self to abandon the idea of self-annihilation, no, self-effacement after marriage. – and I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself. it is only j that sees through me and asks til when i will keep this facade.
perkaraperkara 