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I once emphasized how I see writing as a must , and how it helps me to understand myself . I did not say that lightly. At the time, I thought I was already being radical in my statement. I thought calling writing a “must” was extreme enough. But I have come to a stronger conclusion since then,
Some of the things that force clarity of mind in writing are not the words only and the choice of words, but the links between them. linking notes is not a decorative feature. it is structural. it allows thought to move from being scattered into being shaped. this is something that can hardly be utilized in regular note taking apps, but when you use a more sophisticated system or a personal blog, you allow this feature to exist naturally.
I have had a unique friendship with someone who, on the surface, could not be more different from me. his name is Mahmoud. when I first met him at the university of Khartoum, I was almost certain that we would never become close. not because of conflict, not because of incompatibility in values, but because he represented something I was instinctively afraid of.
I don’t really find myself like everyone else. most times, I have no opinion on almost everything. I have no favorites. I don’t have a stance on almost anything that happens. I get asked, what’s your take on this? what’s your stance? and when I try to investigate myself within, I find none. there is no clear answer.
I’m not an expert in this, but I have a saying, when I surround myself with a certain kind of people, people who have very pure hearts, who don’t fear feeling, who aren’t guarded, who explore and live fully, they often end up being the ones who suffer the most in every situation. the one who love the most in every relationship. they carry the weight of every room they enter. and what makes this harder is that they rarely know how rare they are.
I don’t usually overthink how people read my titles. learning to be bothered , learning to feel again , those who are around me would probably get it. but I’m not writing for strangers anyway. I write to make things clearer to myself. and what I keep coming back to is this pattern in the things I choose to write about: the basic human functionalities, the ones everyone else seemed to pick up without thinking. politeness, warmth, asking for help, letting people in. I had to learn all of those. I was raised well, yes, but I had to do a lot of it alone. sometimes with the help of someone older who took the time. mostly by myself.