Well helLOO there, its 3:46 am and I've just begun writing. I know its late Ma, please just give me awhile. Aaaaanyway, I was walking from the mosque, to the library, when my path was blocked by a bunch of small boys. Little kids. Wee laddies, off ter sumwhere else, bu' had ta walk along tha same paaath. I wasn't in a hurry so I didn't overtake. Instead I eavesdropped... but they were talking so loudly I couldn't help myself.

They were having a helluva time and laughing at the stupidest of things. I quote, 'ya I cut my hair. One hair!'
'HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA!
I quote again: 'Show them the, the hair! The... the DNA!'
And again, laughter. Those kids didn't have to make sexual references, use irony or try to act smart, yet they were happy as hell. Not that I'm implying hell is happy, you know... just that... well...

I went on to judge them. 'They are really young, so they're probably not as intelligent as... us. Yet, at least. And because of that, everything is happy-ing for them.'
Which made me think... what's the trade-off when we grow up? Intelligence for happiness? The more we know, the less we'll find DNA jokes highly amusing. Or think that cutting one strand of hair is truly epic. I will not elaborate because YOU get what I'm saying. 'Nuff said. Point made. Booyah.

In other news this video made me laugh a lot, I nearly cried, I couldn't breathe, and the world went bright for awhile. Then I could breathe again, so I watched it a second time. I didn't laugh anymore, and that left me sad...



I hope you liked it because HOPE. Is What We Have. I tried the Avatar game demo and I must say. Destroying a planet never felt so good. Shooting at plants just so they'll explode and release copious amounts of stuff, hearing that squelch, and then getting XP for Total Destruction... life doesn't get much better. I now know why people go to war, make countries go to war, and why Pandora was attacked like it was. It just feels so good. Until you lose a limb or someone you love, then it ain't shit no more. Then it gets SERIOUS and people start getting emotional. So let's leave the warring for the games, eh people? You fat asses behind the wars don't know shit... Don't. Know. Shit. About shit. NEXT.

I still maintain that I enjoy hanging out with me most, and I'm still glad that I'm my best friend. But I'm also glad to have one other thing (amongst many other things) - a place to write. Because you, oh blank sheet of paper, oh internet site... you don't just listen to me. You internalize everything I want to say. This definitely beats talking to someone. Because talking to people can get frustrating, at least for me. I've got a TON of things to say and share, but no one in their right mind would wanna sit down and hear me out. In fact it wouldn't even happen that way; I'd burst out in speech every now and then, and I'm sure that's a lot to handle when you've got better things to do. Maybe that's why I talk to myself a lot... I don't know. OR DO I.

Its also the reason why I like quiet time, like now. Everyone's asleep, all I hear is myself. This is when I think, create, discuss, and socialize with myself. Its when I feel at peace, and I know that no matter what, no matter WHAT, I will listen to myself. I've tried not doing that, but its just too hard to. I can't bear letting me talk to no one, its just so wrong!

And the greatest part of writing, like this blog, is that people, whom I have substituted with my writing avenues, have full autonomy over what they take in. Bored? Scram. Like it? Eventually scram. Didn't understand something? Read it again, maybe ask me. Then scram. Ble your eggs. Add some pepper. Just a little bit of salt. Too little sodium can cause problems too.

AND NOW, ladies and gentlemen, I will reveal to you my *drumroll* deepest insecurities! Ex-insecurities, because I have overcome them. I polarized my choizes. Do YOU know what I'm insecure about? Ever made a guess? Well I'll tell you anyway. (By the way, the first photo of the post, was automatically auraticized. I didn't even plan on it, it just happened. Life is mYstErIOUs...)

Its all about my face. The most obvious being my nose. I mean come on, you'd have to be blind not to notice it from a mile off. Or a couple. You know when I was still in my mother's womb, they did that scan thing, and the prominent features they identified were my nose and my ears. Satellite ears, that's what I call 'em. And proudly too! I hear virtually EVERYTHING, and it sometimes creeps my family out.

But I digress! Relatives testify that I was born ugly. Brown, shrivelled, with an elongated head. Soooomething like that. I was vacuumed out, see. So my head kinda, lengthened. Maybe that explains my intelligence!- or lack of. MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.

So anyway I've been told how ugly I was when I was born, and how people prayed a lot that I'd change. I'm not kidding. It must've been that horrible. Not ugly like deformed or monster, but the mehhhhhhhhHHHHHHH kinda ugly I think. I don't know, they hadn't invented mirrors back then.

Strange thing the early days were fine, I wasn't bothered about shit. Even in sec 2, when I was a pathetic little Indian boy running around in shorts too loose and shoes so uncool, I didn't give half a shit. But later on, I started becoming aware of this thing on my body... this thing that had been there for so long, yet only now I had begun to place importance in it- wait a minute. ARE YOU THINK- OH MY GOD, how COULD YOU?! So ANYWAY *glares rudely at pervert* *ie. you* *or not* its only in Sec 3-ish that I started paying attention to how I looked. And I realized I didn't quite like it. I'll talk about them features, in no order of realization.

My nose. For years I've been blowing my nose, and snivelling and experienced stuffiness, so that's all I knew it for. Then one day I kinda realized that it was, put shortly, big. And! People helped by pointing it out.
'Eh Fawaz your nose damn big sia'

'How did you know I'm Indian?'
'Your nose ah. Damn big sia'

I laugh now, but back then, I slowly began feeling hurt. Its on my bloody face and I can't hide it, you GOTTA notice it if you wanna talk to me, and I can't do shit about it! That's what I kinda thought. And for so long I felt conscious about my nose, always guessing what people thought when they looked at me. Family and relatives always called me handsome; after long periods of not meeting, they'd gush over how handsome I am. Big boy already, so tall, so handsome! Well, handsome or 'handsome' or hand some. Hand some of that paper over so I can make a mask for you. I even started thinking that they were just being polite. My mother always had nice things to say, but that's the point! She's my mother! She loves me to no end, and loves me for whatever the heck I am or am not.

So I got sad at times. I stared at the mirror a lot, for several reasons. To look at my body, to check out my hair (and not comb it. Wouldn't help much anyway), and to see how best to angle myself such that my nose would appear normal. It really began to bother me and I think that's how I started avoiding taking photos. I never liked photos, the flash and the whatever, I just never liked 'em, but now I had a reason not to like. I was convinced I was ugly, and looked uglier in photos. Maybe its my skin colour or perpetually imperfect lighting, but whenever I looked at photos of me, I only saw my nose.

Think back, recall all the photoshopped photos phoph phme. They all have little or no nose. The voldemort one was an honest experiment to see how I'd look... if I were to have my nose removed. I kinda thought it'd be cool walking around like that. Buuuuut I think that was never a good plan to begin with.

And then came the problem of my teeth. They were never bad, but after so many adult teeth, there just wasn't room. So my teeth got crammed outwards, leading to my overbite. And for some reason, the two front teeth liked my lips a lot. They stuck out, especially the right one... and again, the only other thing I noticed in my photos. And reflections. And when I smiled. And when I talked.

I went to a dentist to get it fixed, but when he told me the cost, my parents and I were like 'oh ok forget it'. What's the cost? Four teeth from my upper row alone. FOUR! TEETH! WtF! And she hadn't even gone to the lower teeth; they were crowded too, but not too much. I still think four teeth is too many. I need my teeth. I LOVE my teeth; how am I gonna get all the protein I need if I can't chew for shit? It won't feel right!

Then my eyebrows! I have a heck of a unibrow and was surprised when some people noticed only after years. Maybe you haven't, meaning you'll take the opportunity of our next meeting to stare. Thanks. You're welcome. And! Muslims can't remove their eyebrows. So no threading or brow burning for me.

All these things were playing in my subconscious AND not-so-sub conscious for a looong time. And I realized it was time to stop. Since I'm changing so much now anyway, why not! And instead of telling myself 'oh look, there are people who are much worse off, so be thankful!', I chose a different route. This:

Better to be noticed or remembered for a big nose than nothing at all. I like attention and being famous and ruling the world, see.
And, its so true then when people get to know you and like you for who you are, what you look like becomes irrelevant. Arbitrary. I testify to that because my friends are perfect in mine eyes.
Also, whatever God gives us, is for a reason. Be happy, dammit!
Not to forget, you are whatever the heck you wanna be. Carry yourself well and shine from the inside, and people will think you're beautiful. NOT THAT I WANT PEOPLE TO CALL ME BEAUTIFUL. Figure of thpeach.
Lastly, it doesn't matter if I'm oddly proportioned, or have strange features or whatever; people can tease all they want, but if they really mean it, then they're really dumb. It makes everything a lot easier: I know who the idiots are, who to stay away from. Not worth the time.

In celebration of my newfound confidence and comfortabilitization of myself, I'm posting pictures of me. Feels so camwhorish but its the intention that counts. I was exploring facial expressions, as my captions will explain:







Keep the simple carbs and sugars low people, we don't want an insulin party. Keep healthy and stay happy, you wanna live long enough to see flying cars doncha. La'er.





If I had whings I whould why

Labels: komentatr, no ligaments, repotr, thoughts