لا أحتملُ العمر، أعاني من صخب الأيام وضجيج الحياة. لا أطيقُ الانتظار، يقتلني بطء الثواني وطول الساعات. ولا أخشى النهاية، تُتعبني الطريق ولكن يريحني الوصول.
أُترك أقلامك خلفك واتبعني، رحلتك لن تحتمل التفاصيل بعد الآن. إرمِ مشاعرك بعيدًا وانصفني، ففي معركتي لن أصمد طويلًا. تمسّك فقط بكلماتك واصرخ باسمي كلما شارفتُ على النهوض.
لا تدعني انهض بل دعني استسلم. ربّما استسلامي يعجّل في وصولي الى النهاية. نهايةٌ رغبتها، اتّبعتها وسأبلغها قبل موعدها. دعني أفرح منتشيًا بلذّة الوصول، دعني أرقص رقصتي الأخيرة واحتفل.
لا تعاندني. أُترك أقلامك وراءك وامضي، ودعني أستسلم. لا تقلق، ستكتب عني يومًا ما، عندما تستفيق من غفوتك وتُصالحُك الكلمات. لا تجزع، ستعود إليك مشاعرك بعد حزنٍ سيجرف ما تبقّى منك من إرادة. وستشعر أنّك رافقت من أنهى طريقه باستسلام وستتعلّم. ستتعلّم أن الخوف من النهاية هو نهاية بحد ذاته. لا تعاندني واتركني وراءك وامضِ بسلام.
تتناقص روحي شيئًا فشيئًا فأغيب. أغيب في عالمٍ سوداويٍ بائس، لا مكان للحياة فيه. تموت الرغبة كل يوم، الرغبة في الحياة، في الابتسام والبحث عن البداية. بداية طفلٍ أسلم الروح بعد النفس الأوّل، وكذلك كل بداياتي. تُولدُ بداياتي لتموت فورًا، فحتى هي فقدت الرغبة في المضي قدُمًا.
أنا انسانٌ فارغ، لا مكان لي ولا أرض، أبحث عن وطن، أبحث عن أمل وأبحثُ عن زمنٍ ضاع وضاعت فيه نفسي. لن أجد شيئًا، أنا على يقين من هذا. لن أجد شيئًا ولا حتى صدى لضحكاتي التي ظننتها ستبقى. جتى ضحكاتي فقدت الرغبة في العودة.
الرغبة أصل الإرادة وأساس الحياة وأنا فاقدها وأنتظر النهاية عند عتبةٍ تتكسر عندها كل بداياتي.
لن أعود. سأبقى نسمةً عابرة، ترافق ضحكات المارّة وتقفز من تحية إلى أخرى.
سأركلُ هذا العالم بعنف وأركض في العدم إلى حدّ التعب. سأتعب واتساقط على أرضٍ جديدة، سأنغمس في ترابها وانتظر الشتاء. لعلّني ارتوي وأنمو، فأتحوّل الى زهرة. قد أتحوّل الى شجرة ساكنة، قابعةٌ في مكانها منتظرةً النهاية.
سيصيبني الجفاف واتهالك على العشب منتظرًا حطّابٌ ما ليخطفني وينقلني الى فنائه. سيحملني ويوقد حطامي لينعم بدفء رحيلي. ولن انتهي.
سأصبح رمادًا منثورًا على حافّة سجّادةٍ عتيقة لتنفضني يدا عجوزٍ وحيدة تنشد النظافة والراحة قبل رحيلها. سأتناثر غبارًا يعمّ الأرجاء الى أن تحملني ريح متناحرة فيما بينها، تُبعثرني في كل مكان وسأبقى عالقًا في نفس المكان.
It was late when he decided to call it a night. Thunder outside drove him mad. To him, it was like the end of the world. He decided to hide, to run away from that irritating feeling. Tucking himself in his bed was the most treasured thing he ever did. He is safe now, shielded and armed with wool covers. The heart is sheltered with peace. The clock is ticking, but sleep was away for this night. He had feelings to spill, and so, he grabbed his papers and the pen resting on them and triggered his mind for writing. Where did all the ideas go? They were buzzing all over his head. Did they hide? Did they leave? Or simply, they died? There weren’t any urge in him to dig them out, so he surrendered his papers to their prior refuge. What is wrong with him tonight? He wondered. This is emptiness in him, and he didnt have any ideas to write, so he decided to read.
As people scream out their true nature, his books did the same. They were his loyal companions. What he didn’t know, was that his night was a very important phase in his life. It is the night where his life will change forever.
He couldn’t read, the pages were blank to his eyes. Despair claimed authority of his heart, and his life rolled like a short movie in his head. “When will this still life end”? That’s it! The end. The end is what only matters now. He bumped out of his bed, opened the door of his balcony, climbed the iron fence surrounding it, spread his hands in the air, and got ready to jump.
His legs mesmerized in their place, his heart thundered faster than raindrops and louder than the noise around, but the raindrops were magical. They washed despair out of his system. He felt confused, betrayed and peaceful. Confused by joy, betrayed by emptiness, and peaceful by embracing hope that will lead him to a life where ambitions floated all over. He must be a different person now, he must make a difference. If it wasn’t for the world, it would be for his little lame life…
Hard floor under his back, extreme darkness surrounded him as he was not sure if his eyes were open. He focused for a second, tried to remember why is he lying on the floor, but nothing came to his troubled mind. Moved his hands around, waved them up above, but nothing was there. He got up on his knees, tapping his hands on the cold floor to make a way and suddenly, light flashed all over the place. He tried to cover his eyes with his elbow, waited for a minute so his eyes could get used to the light, and opened them to have a look around.
He was in a room of white and smooth walls. But something was missing. With a frown conquering his crumbled face, he searched thoroughly for the door of this room, but there wasn’t any. There wasn’t even a window. To his amazement, light came from nowhere. It was just there filling the creepy room. Putting his thumb and two other fingers, he squeezed his forehead trying to summon reasonable answers. How did he get in here? Why? When? And even where is he? But these were questions he couldn’t answer. Black visions roamed his head.
Reaching the more static questions, panic was taking place. Who is he? Who was he? What is he turning into? Only the echo of his questions thundered in his head. He doesn’t remember existing before. He doesn’t have whatsoever knowledge. An empty vessel worth nothing to fill it with. He must escape this nothingness and get out to existence. But fear is taking over. What will be waiting for him out there? What should he expect to find? Starting to exist? There might not be any place for him to fit in. With the drums of these thoughts, a squared crack started to paint itself on one of the walls.
But, no! He will not escape. He must stay and maybe fade away. At this very thought, the walls started to dissolve. The floor turned into millions of pixels and his balance was running away from him. He is falling down. No, he is not falling, he is fading away. Darkness is eating him, swallowing him into a deeper level. Maybe it is too late to fight it now. His last thought turned into dust, scattered in chaos, and it was only darkness again.
I will put my hand on this pillow, lay my cheek on that hand, grab my knees closer to my chest, and try falling asleep.
Something is wrong with my bed. Your smell laid no more on my pillow, your fingers swayed no more on my forehead, and your breath traveled no more on my chest. And something is wrong with my room. My stairs drummed no more with your steps, my door trembled no more with your dancing fingers, and my walls echoed no more with your laugh. And something is wrong with me. Your frown faced no more my jokes, your fingers trembled no more in my hand, and your gaze met no more my eyes.
So I close my eyes, squeeze them to see you there, between them and their lids. I calm down, to find your smile hanging on my curtains. I turn around to confront your shining eyes in the darkness. And there you are, sitting in the corner of my heart, unrevealing yourself until its the right time.
And there my eyes relax, my body surrenders, sleep must be on the way. My eyes are heavy, the voices from outside are gone. And then I open my eyes, my body tightens, I hear your voice, I hear your calling. I call you back, I’m here, I’m Here, where are you? There is my hand reaching out to you, there is your voice fading away, there are your steps thundering away.
I open my eyes again, the pillow is wet, the bed is empty, the room is dark, and I am all alone. I close my eyes again, I squeeze harder, I search for you again, but you are gone. Did you knock and I didn’t hear it? I jump out of my bed, open the door, and its just that empty dark alley, with that broken lamp. I should have fixed that lamp, maybe darkness made you change your mind, maybe you are down there waiting for me. I run the stairs down, pop up in the street, and there it is empty. My tears are falling, I have to get back. I will not stop crying, maybe my tears will lead you to me if you forgot where my house is.
I will stay awake, I will watch the road, maybe you will come from that end, and with you sunrise will come. I will stay awake and wait.
وائل يكتب 