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I hate the rush 

I’m sick of society 

I feel the rush in my stomach 

In my head 

Certain noises might make me break 

Circumstances make me crazy 

I’m beginning to calculate numbers in my brain when my thoughts start to flow 

Money 

I want to get it out 

I don’t want it in there 

People remind me that I have to move on in the education system 

I don’t want 

I just 

When my friends suddenly idolize education and money 

I’m confused 

I lose my focus 

I don’t want to get sucked in 

I don’t want to be a part of this

Something is wrong 

All my friends stopped smoking pot and doing drugs

And they want me to stop as well..

I can just feel the world moving under my feet.

Are they going to grow up soon and become the money sucking zoombies?

Am I? 

I need to keep listening to Sir Ken Robinson and reading Huxley 

I just read that buddhists are killing muslims 

What the fuck is going on 

I love my mother. Because she is my mother. And because she loves me. But she will never understand me fully. And we will always talk pass each other. And she will annoy me continuingly. And I need a break. 

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This towering feeling creeps over me sometimes when I’m with him. I lose it an I cry. Heavy tears. And they keep falling. He always assumes that I’m sad, or that he did something wrong. But I’m not sad at all. I’m just so happy I met him. I love him deeply. 

I’ve been thinking about the question “What do you do?” Like “What are you interested in, what are you good at, what do you do” Some people have the answer clear and direct. “I play music. I sing. I dance.. I read. I study this or that” 

I don’t know, what my answer would be when people ask me that. And it’s annoying because I don’t have a clear answer. But I feel so much in my chest all the time about the world about human minds and cultures and music and all these different things. I strive for so much, yet because I don’t have a simple answer people will assume that I don’t do anything. Yes, I like to draw - No I don’t want to be an artist.. Yes, I play a little music. Yes, I sing a little bit. But what do you do? Where’s your fire? 

Why is it that they will think I’m nuts if I say “My fire is justice, my fire is life itself, love, learning, people, every moment, every breath, moments captured, colors, the ocean, the wind, the internet, Terence McKenna, dancing, going out, music, staying in, weed, laying around all day doing nothing” Everything is so satisfying in my eyes all the time. But when I don’t have a straight answer, people will assume that I’m empty, that I burn for nothing. But it’s not that I burn for nothing, it’s just that I burn for everything. Boom. I hit down on a serious Kerouac gliche there.

Her name is Fatima al-Qaws and she is pictured with her son, Zayed, who had been injured taking part in an anti-government protest in Sanaa, the capital of Yemen.

Photo by Samuel Aranda

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