Untitled

At 6 years old, I remember having a moment to myself in the room I shared with my sisters.

I sat on the ground, cross-cross apple sauce style, and I realized two things:

1. That I wasn’t going back to Iraq anytime soon to see my aunts and cousins.

And then I got up and looked at myself in the mirror that was next to our bunk bed, and I’d realize something else:

2. That for some strange reason I existed.

Every so often, like tonight, that image replays in my head. I questioned my own existence at 6. I don’t know if many people recall that moment in their lives (if they ever have it), but I do.

And tonight, among the many conversations that have been programmed on our phones and TV’s, I again, questioned my existence.

Are we just doing what Mother Nature intended us to do: live, eat, sleep, procreate and die? And are we taking ourselves too seriously, or not seriously enough?

I’m appalled by this. It seems that everyone is programmed to make something work — and if you have no talent, you can surely sell yourself.

I’m lost. Honestly. I have few memories that direct me back to where it all went wrong — but can’t we live with the fact that some things are unfixable?

That maybe, we’ve made human life too complicated.

In 2018, we literally have to teach people how to have sex properly, and how one should not go on about raping one another. I mean, how can we create all of this technology — but still not understand that a population of people who protest ‘me too’ aren’t stupid — yet, the people that get us to that conclusion are.

I mean, it’s great that it’s happening. But it’s a sensitive subject to all of us — right?

What makes matters worse is that every other day our president seems to sympathize with all of the wrong people. And while many brave souls protest, others are okay with calling him an idiot and collecting the coins.

Collecting the coins until, one day, your son gets hooked on drugs, and your daughter is raped — and your husband is deployed to another country to die for it all. By then, one begins to take a stand on what causes these issues. (So that they can stop them?)

I don’t know if money is the root of all evil, I simply don’t have the answers.

I’m still stuck on the question I asked myself at 6 years old: why, exactly, am I alive? What exactly am I supposed to do? Do I really just exist?

It seems like everyone is just as lost as me. We have our heads in a cloud.

I’m not sure if I want to escape mankind or figure it out. I know, I can’t do it tonight, but suddenly when my head feels more clear… do I begin to question, what exactly am I supposed to do with this information.

One thought on “Untitled

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s