توتر غير مبرر (2)
January 9, 2026
|By Reham Hashem
توتر غير مبرر (2)
Acrylic • 40x40 cm • 2021
أنا الجفاف الذي أصاب نهر الفرات في سحيق الزمن، أنا اللهفة التي صدمها اللاحب، أنا المرآة التي تحطمت بسبب كره الذات، وأنا سفينة رحلت وضاعت وغرقت في المحيط وتفتت في المياه، وتحولت إلى عناصر مصغّرة لا تُرى بالعين المجردة، وأصبحت نسيًا منسيًا.
توقف عن مناداتي، لن أرد.
«كل هذا لأنني طلبت منك أن أراك مرة أخرى؟ طيب، أنا آسف»
شعرت بأنه أخرج السكين من قلبي بعد أن زرعها لمدة ثلاث دقائق وأربعين ثانية، وأجزاء لم أعدّها من الثانية. وعاد الدم بالنزيف من قلبي إلى الحياة التي تشبهني بتفاصيلها العدمية. الآن أشعر بأنني على ما يرام. لا، لا، أشعر بأنني أفضل بكثير عما مضى.
سأفتح الباب بعد ثوانٍ قليلة، وسآكل بقايا الغداء وقليلًا من السكريات، فالحياة لا تستحق أكثر من ذلك. لا تقلق، سأعود، حتى ولو بصورة أخرى.
Unexplained anxiety (2)
I am the drought that struck the Euphrates in the depths of time. I am the longing shattered by blazing heat. I am the mirror broken by self-hatred. I am a ship that departed, got lost, sank in the ocean, shattered in the waters, turned into tiny elements invisible to the naked eye, and became something forgotten and erased.
Stop calling me. I will not answer.
“All this because I asked to see you once again? Fine, I’m sorry.”
I felt as though he pulled the knife out of my heart after planting it there for three minutes and forty seconds and fragments of a second, I did not count. The blood returned, bleeding from my heart back into a life that resembles me in its nihilistic details. Now I feel fine. No-no, I feel much better than before.
I will open the door in a few seconds and eat the leftovers of lunch and a little sugar, for life does not deserve more than that. Don’t worry I will return, even if in another form.
I am the drought that struck the Euphrates in the depths of time. I am the longing shattered by blazing heat. I am the mirror broken by self-hatred. I am a ship that departed, got lost, sank in the ocean, shattered in the waters, turned into tiny elements invisible to the naked eye, and became something forgotten and erased.
Stop calling me. I will not answer.
“All this because I asked to see you once again? Fine, I’m sorry.”
I felt as though he pulled the knife out of my heart after planting it there for three minutes and forty seconds and fragments of a second, I did not count. The blood returned, bleeding from my heart back into a life that resembles me in its nihilistic details. Now I feel fine. No-no, I feel much better than before.
I will open the door in a few seconds and eat the leftovers of lunch and a little sugar, for life does not deserve more than that. Don’t worry I will return, even if in another form.