Confessions of an alter ego

Last week was a mess, but the beautiful kind of mess that gives me a touch of euphoria. Between projects hanging in the air, friends around for Easter break, and my favorite play entering its fourth chapter, I sat myself down for a fiction writing class. Six weeks of utter commitment, creation, scribbles and some more scribbles. You know when they talk about effortless love? I think this is it (in the best of its forms), my love for words. It is abiding, and has been organically growing in my heart, for as long as I can remember. And the best thing of it all? Those words love me back, every single time.

- photo courtesy of Rivvie's  -

– photo courtesy of Rivvie’s –

Snapshot of assignment no 1 below – Confessions of an alter ego.

“..You can’t read into her. You look at her and you see void, a lack of give and take. She daydreams. Deciphering the emotions of a daydreamer is almost impossible to you. She’s in a constant state of awe, and your slightest move could easily put her reverie to a dreadful end. You can tell it’s her one and only sanctuary. She talks poetry, but then again, she wouldn’t strike you as a talker; more of an observer maybe. You observe too, and so you understand what it’s like to be a bystander. You summit to her silence, a silence you leisurely get accustomed to, a silence that is peaceful, a silence that doesn’t emit rudeness or bitterness, a silence that stems from a minor scuffle between reason and heart. Heart always wins, hence the daydreams, hence the silence, hence the inner peace. You let her be…”


About monakaraoui

Editor by day, journal blogger by night.. View all posts by monakaraoui

2 responses to “Confessions of an alter ego

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