Little Did I know that …

Here we go again.

In the pursuit of happiness; a man goes many unpaved roads looking for a release, a shelter or a goal; however, many get lost in the way and get stuck in a hole. Temporary or not; this hole has an effect on this person, causing a butterfly chain reaction that might end up in shaping – or destroying – the very essence of this person.

I have been a traveler; a person of passion and a writer for years. I worked towards goals that sometimes I couldn’t fully understand or see, yet, I believe that I reached some; and I lost my way towards others.

Now, in this unbelievable period of my life; I have the chance to set aside and watch my life as it folds; stuck in a country that once was mine, and surrounded by forces that I cannot control; or predict.

Alright already, enough with the bullshit; let me tell you about myself; I am a man who is totally unique; just like everyone on this planet. The only thing that drives me to write this blog is the simple selfish desire to actually write and see people’s reactions to my writings.

Who am I? My name is not that important really, it’s rather common in the part of the world I live in. Names are just another way for people to label people; my name can tell you from which part in the world I come from and what religion my parents are; therefore, you will be able to stereotype me in some TV-enhanced idea about what kind of a person I am.

However, for the purpose of keeping you interested in reading my blogs; let’s just say that my name is Sama; a female name in the part of the world I come from, yet I like it and I will be called by it. Gender was never my problem and it won’t be my problem at the moment either.

I am a homosexual Arab man who lives in Syria at the moment. “Oh, wow, in Syria?” you might say, thinking of a way to politely ask me about my dead family members or the exchange of gunfire outside of my bathroom window. However, I will disappoint you; I live in Damascus; where the only struggle that I might face is to find a bar that opens beyond 2AM or to get over yet another fight with my father about my “sinful repulsive homosexuality”, as he delightfully puts it.

I traveled far and beyond, been to places and have stories to tell; yet I find myself stuck in Syria for now; in a country I was born in and had my first crush in and enjoyed my first kiss in. Little did I know that I’ll ever come back here and this return only lead to a relapse in my self-image.

I’m a child with a running nose trying to catch a snowflake; I’m a man of 27-year getting in a bus and listening to OneRepublic; I’m a lost teenager exchanging glances with an older guy; I’m a man with a younger boyfriend that sees me as his father figure. I’m off to my first day at school; holding my breath trying not to cry as I’ll be separated from my mother for the first time in my life; I’m an older brother; holding my 2-year-old half-brother as he falls asleep. I’m a child in a car with a fever; my father is driving me to the hospital and the streetlights look like fireflies; I’m a man driving a car; with two lesbian girls in the backseat making out while I try to avoid any suspicious eyes. I’m a child trying to be friends with a girl at school; I’m a man naked in bed; and my boyfriend is turning around and drowning his face into my chest. I’m in Beirut in my late teens; meeting the man who is going to change my life forever. I’m in Egypt telling my Egyptian boyfriend that I can’t stand him anymore; I’m swimming in the Indian Ocean; overlooking Malaysia; telling my Italian boyfriend that it’s not working out between us after three years. I’m in Turkey; making out with a nameless boy in public in Taksim Street; I’m in my mother house in Beirut; having a drunken sex with a stranger while my mother is sleeping in the next room. I’m a child sleeping my mother’s arms; I’m a man standing in the line for the visa appointment in the Italian Embassy; knowing that I will not get the visa. I’m holding my father’s hand as we cross the street; I’m older again; screaming at him: “I’m not a faggot; I’m gay; you’re sick with homophobia”. I’m stuck in a circle going round and round; falling in the gaps of time; and the only way that I can think of to make sense of my life; is to actually write it down.

And writing I shall.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. subodh_A
    Nov 14, 2011 @ 08:32:16

    Must indeed, you are writer with amazing power on words…


  2. Trackback: Little Did I know that … | Kids say :

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