Monday, August 20, 2007

In The Box…


It is dark, very dark, I can’t see, but still I can touch. It is cold, so cold, seems it is a wall, yes it is. A high wall, I can’t reach the top with my hands, still touching, still feeling the coldness, another wall… other walls. Surrounded by walls, high walls from all sides. Locked up, locked up… in a box… In The Box.

I close my eyes, still dark, still can’t see. Wait… I can hear… voices, far away voices. Approaching… “You are not alone”. Sparks of light… dust… walls are dusty. “Polish, remove the dust”. It isn’t really dark, it is the dust over… the glass walls… I can see throughout the glass, I can see my life throughout the walls, the past is behind, it is clear, the future is somewhere there, it is approaching… very fast, but still distant… and… no details … I need to have a clear sight… “Smash the glass, break the walls”…”Get me out of the box

Mena Mostafa

2 comments:

Fady Sedrak said...

Why do you need to get out of the box? may be that is where you intended to be or may be not ... may be your box is in another box or may be not ... you only get out to be in another box.

But there is always hope that keep us alive. there is a common saying "The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for"

May be you need to get out .. to change ... as they say "When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge." .. may be that is how you get out of the box.

Ahmed Kamal said...

Before you get out of the box, ask yourself: Do you allow anybody to get into the box? Can you handle the world out of the box? Do you really need to see what is exactly behind the wall?

I read once the following:
Close your eyes. Or even with your eyes open, imagine the following scene: a flock of birds on the wing. Now, tell me how many birds you saw: Five? Eleven? Sixteen? Whatever the response - and it is difficult for someone to say how many birds were seen - one thing becomes quite clear in this small experiment. You can imagine a flock of birds, but the number of birds in the flock is beyond your control. Yet the scene was clear, well defined, exact. There must be an answer to the question: Who was it that determined how many birds should appear in the imagined scene? Not you!

Trapped!

I feel trapped and lonely. Lonely inside myself, like it’s never ending. I know that nothing is forever lasting, this gives hope to my mind...