At certain times i start thinking about death. Not about how it’ll be like, or what would happen to me at that moment, not even about the answers i’ll finally get then. Not about how i’d feel about my life, if i’d see it flashing before my eyes or not, if i’d be happy with my choices while alive, no not even if my soul would live on in heaven/hell or that there’s no such thing.

I think about the things i’m going to leave behind. Sounds crazy, yes even to me.

I’m in love with my privacy, i fight for it whenever i feel like it’s walking away from me. It’s one of the reasons i love irbid so much, i don’t like cooking/cleaning. I don’t like having no one to run into my room when i fall or break a mug. What i like is sleeping with the laptop lying next to me in bed, the tv on in the background and the lights on. I like not having to make my bed just for the sake of it. I like to put my own music on loud, eat in bed while watching a movie, and i like having no one around telling me not to do that.

The thing i love most is keeping my stuff lying around, because i’m sure no one will see them, as no one comes to my dorm room, not one girl. Sometimes i feel like i can’t even put a certain song on at home, or keep that cut out from the newspaper, or have that piece of paper with a quote lying around on the table next to my bed.

My parents don’t know me, and at times i’m kind of hesitant to show them who i am. They know what i do, who my friends are, where i go out and with who, all those things that reveal NOTHING about who i really am. I am at times hesitant to share with them the small project me and some friends are having, hesitant to share that i’m going to watch a movie about Palestine instead of a comedy at the mall, hesitant to tell them that i spend most of my time online reading and that i haven’t logged into messanger in 4 months and facebook for almost a month. Hesitant to tell them that i want to go downtown to buy cheap books and not a hundred dvds, and even in the dvds store hesitant to buy that Lebanese movie ‘6ayara min waraq’ instead of that blockbuster, ”She commented sarcasticly: ‘howeh inti bti3rafi meen ho ziad’. ” I am so hesitant to let them know i have a blog, hesitant to let them know that I CAN talk when there’s an adult conversation going on and NO I DO NOT have to shut up when an older relative talks because them being older does not mean they have opinions on the subject and i don’t.

I’m constantly hesitant to let them in on the real me, too hesitant to let most of the people i know for that matter in. I can honestly say that whoever has read this blog once knows me ten times more that most of the people i’ve known for years. And that takes me back to my fears about death. Once i die, not of old age no cause i’d most probably be ready for it then, but if i do now, like maybe right now, like the ones driving to work, like these, when i least expect it, and when i’m least ready.

My family, someone, ANYONE, will go through my stuff.

GOD, the thought of that!!! Someone will go through my mobile, my laptop, my ROOM!! The boxes and boxes hidden in the back of the cupboard, notebooks, newspaper cutouts, things i had as a child, things i have now, words, people, ideas, thoughts, chocolate wrappers, that picture, that email, that month, that moment….this