I write

Tonight is one of those nights.

They come, more often than not these days, and are urgent and pressing.

They’re the nights when I know I have to pick up my laptop and start writing. I don’t know what I’m writing. I don’t even have a subject matter in mind, no coherent blog to entertain or provoke. The kind of blog people feel comfortable reading. The kind with a beginning, a middle and an end. A clear set of words neatly lined up to form an argument the reader can easily swallow. A tidy and arranged thing.


Tonight is not one of those nights.


Instead, it’s just feelings and emotions that flit across my brain. Nothing solid to hold down, no overriding sentiment to stick a pin in. It’s just a swirl of colour as I race through the human emotional range in a matter of minutes; chaos and anger though to sadness and hate. Happiness gets thrown in there and a contentment finally settles. Only to be usurped quickly by agitation and frustration.


They come as quickly as a breath upon a bank of violets, and leave suddenly like the sun behind a cloud.

They’re clouds themselves.

Passing through me.

Shadows revolving around my bones and trying to catch one and understand it is as futile as chasing a rainbow. If it can be done, it’s not by my hand that can manage it.


So I write.


Not with any clear plan or intention, I just know that if I don’t sit down and let the words pour out of my fingertips they may just wrap themselves around my neck instead.


It’s terrifying really.

Sitting down, completely unsure what might come out. You just hit one key at a time and pray that something does, and when it does, it will bring you some fashion of peace, some kind of solace from the imprints of human life that won’t stop swirling around your head.


So I write.


It comes on suddenly, seeming to take over your body, and in a flurry of heat and concentration you stamp the words out onto the screen as fast as you can, hoping that it somehow satisfies them, that they’ll stop screaming so loudly in your ears.

And when it’s all over, you look up and take a big gulp of air, your body finally your own again now the storm has passed and you’ve managed to contain it in the gleaming white screen blinking up at you.

Sometimes, it’s safer there than having it inside you.

It can do less damage there.


So I write

Salma El-Wardany