Unsplash / Mikail Duran1. You might not have a boyfriend, but you are already loved — by family, by friends, by pets, by the universe. 2. There is more to this world than whether you have a ring on your finger. 3. Your relationship status does not define you as a person, your heart does. 4. Half of the…
We live in a constant race.
Race with time, people, life, achievements and and self improvement.
Why can’t we just relax, and think about happiness for one moment?
Happiness is also a race.
Who’s living their lives to the fullest?
Who travels more?
Who parties more?
Who attends all of the events in town?
who’s more successful?
Who has higher degrees?
Who’s more happily married?
Who’s more loved?
Even when I decide to run away from this race and be content with what I have, I find myself getting outside for one bit and feel like I’m going back to the game. The game is life, and it includes this race.
I feel that no matter what I do with myself, and no matter how I content I can be, I always find someone, or a situation that makes me feel less about myself.
This world of Facebook and Instagram makes us feel that we need to show what we have, and majestify it. We have to show the whole world that we are out there, alive and lucky.
Otherwise, we’re just letting others show their exquisite life.
We live in a constant race: who’s life is better!
Pictures of the Streets of Barcelona – 2016
“Windows and Balconies”
Barcelona and its fascinating architecture.
So apparently we live in w a world that wants us to dare do as many things as possible.
I found this post on some Facebook group, and apparently the fewer points you get the cooler you are. Because everything on the list is adventurous activities you must be proud to “Have ever” done them.
Everything becomes a competition, and to be able to present yourself to the world as an interesting, sophisticated, adventurous person you have to do many things you wouldn’t do if you were a normal person, or you’d have a normal living situations.
Looking at the above picture, I find myself wondering: What if I can’t give birth? Can I still be a daring person? What if I’m not rich, and I can’t go on a cruise trip?
Do I really have to do many things to prove myself as a daring person who likes going on adventures? What if I find the life I’m living an adventure? What if I don’t want to go scuba diving or skydiving? What if I don’t like tattoos? or weird piercings? why do I need to do daring things to be a daring person?
And when it comes to accomplishments, why do I need to be a person who keeps accomplishing things? isn’t my life an accomplishment by itself? Shouldn’t I be satisfied with whatever I have now?
I hear people saying constantly that they love trying and accomplishing new things every day, but isn’t that tiring? to never have the ability to be satisfied with what you have for a bit, and then when you’re quite at your leisure, you can try new thing?
New year began, with January. New year’s resolution we want to begin with, but there’s no time. Maybe after we finish our current assignments we can hit the gym to work out more. And after finishing some papers and exams, we can read more books we wanted to read a while ago.
There’s no time to start working on our new year’s resolution. There’s no time to start working on our new selves.
And there’s no time to say Goodbye to the dead.
January started with many posts of death announcements on the social network. I check my Facebook every day to find it flooded with death announcements. Many has died: old, and young.
January is still not over, and this month I saw around five death announcements of people I know.
“My condolences.” and “Sorry for your loss.” is now a mantra.
Has it been like that for a while? for January to bring deaths? and people to wait until after the holidays to die?
Why is it that January has to come with death?
Why does the beginning of the year must bring many ends?
Why is January the month of depression and grief?
A poem I wrote few years ago:
the month of death,
Why could not you resurrect?”
It’s six thirty in the morning. I woke up. I don’t wake up that early, but I’m happy I can get out of bed at that hour. I hear the rain falling down so heavily.
It’s a bit chilly. I wake up and look at my window near my bed. It’s all foggy.
It’s the perfect time for a cup of coffee. I enjoy every sip and every drop of rain.
It rarely rains. It rarely rains when I’m at my cozy home, having the chance to sit cozily with my cup of coffee.
It’s comfortable. It’s safe. It’s a bran new day – filled with new opportunities.
I decided to change the address of my blog. From arwa13.wordpress.com to strawberryfields.blog. (Yes, it’s the first time I’m using and paying for another plan on wordpress.com).
I’ve been blogging on WordPress for more than ten years, and I’m the most satisfied with this platform. It provides easy blogging, and the blogs/sites look professional and modern. I always enjoy using WordPress and like to explore every feature it provides.
Last month I made a decision that I’m going to upgrade my account to the paid personal plan. My weblog is personal, and I don’t think it should change. I share my personal experience, thoughts and writing. I wanted to boost my blog and give it a more fancy address which includes a domain.
I spent a month thinking about a new domain for the website. And I knew I couldn’t be creative enough to come up with a very unique and creative name, so I looked at titles of my favorite old songs. And it wasn’t easy, and it was nearly impossible to find something that would look like a name of a blog, until I decided that the name Strawberry Fields would sound so poetic and simple at the same time.
Strawberry Fields Forever is a song by one of my favorite all time musical bands in the whole world, and maybe I shouldn’t have used it as a title of my blog, but I feel that my blog itself is a fields of Strawberry.
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It’s getting hard to be someone
But it all works out
“For some it wasn’t perfect, for others it was totally wrong, for me it was the fantasy …”
It was seven years ago, when I was a child. I was naive, and I wanted to learn. I was eager and passionate, and I had no idea how to learn. I’d known I was a special one, and I needed to exploit my distinguished personality.
I was at the wrong place, the wrong stage, in front of the wrong audience. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was constantly surrounded by the wrong people. People who didn’t understand my essence or my desires and passions.
I imagined myself performing my own fictional identities. And I had some of them, most of them were beautiful and pure.
I was thinking about the whole perception of “The New Year”, and “new beginnings”. I was thinking about the notion behind writing New Year’s resolutions, and why we do that.
I live in a country that doesn’t really make a huge fuss about celebrating the New Year. It’s considered a Christian holiday, and as a Christian you take a day off from work/school and celebrate the holiday with your family.
I go online and I see people writing thing about not bringing their 2017 problems to 2018, or starting new adventures in 2018, etc. And I’m sitting here, thinking that after 2018 I’m going back to work, and to my school assignments.
2018 will not be any different from 2017, or 2016 or any year. It’s just another year, and another number. Time goes on, and we’re only responsible for our actions, decisions and what we do in our lives, regardless of the concept of our plans for the upcoming year.
For instance, I want to write more in 2018. I simply plan to write more in the future, regardless if it’s 2018, or 2019. I want to lose weight this upcoming year, but I’ve been saying that for the last 5 years (when I started gaining weights again). It has nothing to do with the New Year, we’re just taking this new year as an excuse to start thinking about decisions we’ve made.
2017 has been a great year for me: not great as only in a positive sense. It has been a year filled with both success, failure and great changes. I simply wish that 2018 would turn to be a calmer year. Though I have a feeling, it wouldn’t be.
I wrote few resolutions for the New Year (See previous post), and even though I don’t need the number 2018, or the term New Year’s resolution to write them down, I felt great writing them down. And sometimes I feel that we should write resolutions every few months. Simply because we need to be hopeful that we’re doing good things in our lives. Regardless if we feel like taking breaks from accomplishments, or just hoping to accomplish more in our lives. Knowing that we can improve our lives makes us carry on living an exciting life.
Sometimes I feel that if I have no resolutions to think of, I have no life to live, and I might as well do nothing in my life, or die.
Keep writing resolutions. These are just plans that will make us believe that we can become better versions of ourselves.
And Happy New Year!
It was Christmas few days ago. And for some reason, I’m kind of glad it’s over. Indeed it’s the most joyous holiday or time of the year. But the fact that it’s considered the greatest holiday of the year, puts a lot of pressure on me as an ordinary person who has no idea how to celebrate. And my life isn’t a great accomplishment: I’m nearing the age of 30 and I’m still single. For my family, I have nothing to be proud of.
This year has been a great year for me. I started writing down everything that has happened to me this year, and I highlighted two elements that made my 2017 a great year. For many people my accomplishments this year are nothing, but for me they made a huge difference in my life, and I feel that for the first time in my life, I am indeed happy that the current year was not a complete waste.
I always measure my success with my previous accomplishments (that is when I convince my self to avoid comparing myself to others). I always measure my age with my previous age. I am in a complete different place than I were 5 years ago. And that is indeed amazing. Five years ago I had no real job, and I had no idea what I wanted to do.
Sometimes I still feel that I have no idea what I want to do, but I have a good job, and I’m preparing for Master Studies. I’m not entirely a different person, but my lifestyle has changed, and perhaps for so many people, like my family, I still lack the husband. It’s like I chose to lack a husband.
I think I’m blessed that the year 2017 made me go through an adventure: losing a job, moving to a new apartment, trying to find a job, doing some activities, wasting time on nothing, and finally find a good job and go back to the academy.
Just because I have no one to share my year with, it doesn’t mean I can be put down for just a minute. I have many plans for the future, and I can’t wait to see what happens next year. Though I’m a bit under the weather these few days, and I can’t feel hopeful, I should remind myself that I’m doing fine, and things will be fine.
I’m going to write few resolutions for 2018 now: (very simple and casual)
1. Lose weight (and workout more).
2. No more wasting money on clothes (which don’t fit me that well).
3. Study more. Just a bit more.
4. Go out less. (it’s not like I go out a lot, and it’s not like I’m missing anything out there).
5. Reduce the number of my friends. Not all of them are worth it (no worried, my friends don’t really read my blog).
6. Travel. Really, even when I have no one to travel with.
7. Don’t date. At all. Unless they prove their worth.
8. Write more in this blog.
I just hope to keep at least half of these resolutions.
Cheers to everyone who’s reading my blog. Just don’t get too drunk on New Year’s Eve. I know I will, if I physically feel better by then.
Time goes by and you look back at who you were back then, back in the good old days. And it was us, a group of passionate, eager and ambitious Literature students. We studied literature, and we wanted to know everything about it. We wanted to explore the world through literature. We read, analysed and discussed. We argued. We lived in what we read. We devoted our days and nights, our vacations and our hectic times, to only be with our books. We were obsessed and sick.
We thought we knew everything. We thought we are taking over the world. Nothing stopped us from wanting to be the legislators of the world. In our worlds we were already kings, and gods.
We thought we knew everything. We thought that whatever Literature said to be true, was real for us. Literature was our religion. We prayed for poets and authors, they were our gods.
We didn’t want to live in peace, we wanted to live in poetry and remain wistful.
We thought we knew everything. And everyone around us was ignorant and unfortunate. We thought we were the lucky ones, the chosen ones. We are already in the quest of immortality, and ready to rule the world.
We were pure evil. And looking back at the good old days, we were purely naive.
October is a very important month for me: mainly because during this month, on the 13th, it’s my birthday.
I never had the opportunity to have a very special celebration for my birthday. I always celebrate my birthday with few friends and some members of my family. I don’t have many friends, I know many people, but no one loves me enough to organize a grand celebration for my birthday.
I spent my birthday at the Dead Sea with some members of my family, which for me was enough. The whole day was not organized for me specifically, I merely joined. But it was fine. We spent few hours at the Dead Sea and the rest were on the road. It was fine.
And I keep saying fine, because it wasn’t entirely amazing, but it wasn’t that bad. I could have spent my birthday in bed, logging in to Facebook every two seconds to check who wished me a Happy Birthday.
On the day of my birthday, I had the chance to see a relative of mine in the US, whom I visited ten years ago, in New York, on my birthday. “Ten years ago, today, you were waiting for us at the airport.” I was 18 years old. I was young, just finished high school, and had no idea how the world works. I had no idea what I was doing, and what I was aiming for in life. Not saying I do now, but I changed, a lot.
Now, I’m 28 years old. I’m older, a bit wiser, and more successful than I was 5 years ago, let alone 10 years ago. I have a good job, and I started studying for Masters degree in English literature. Some people would never think this is a great achievement, but for me, it definitely is. I try not to compare myself to other people around me, but sometimes I do. But mostly, I would compare myself and my lifestyle now to my lifestyle 5 years ago, and this is a success for me.
I’m 28, almost 30. I’m single, and mostly tired and depressed. But why does that have to negative? I don’t need a lot. I’m a very simple person, and when I lack anything, I try to find a way to obtain it. As long as I spend my days and night doing what I feel comfortable doing, why do I have to worry much?
Je suis contente.