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suicide

Suicide

The situation escalated in the village and more people began to talk, and they hired some of the elders of the village to verify the matter. Whoever rebel against religion would naturally rebel against the enormous social injustice and narcissism of the elders of families and their misfortunes. They were afraid of that even though we did not confront them with anything.

Ahmed returned to the house waiting for his father’s hand to hit him severely, which he did not do with him in front of the sheikh, and the beating he was inflicted upon him. As soon as he entered, his father hit him while he said: I will laugh at me, oh infidel, and God will do that you and your friends. Either you come back or people kill you, killing you is permissible

Ahmed was unable to remain silent this time, he could not be silent and said to him: I will not retreat from my thoughts no matter what I do, as long as I am alive, you are a lie, do you think that your God will be at ease with my death? He does not care about you or me

His father struck him more when he said: Shut up, you disbeliever, you are the son of a bastard, a loathsome, a madman and a lecherous

Ahmed said: I am not a lunatic, and I am not an immoral. You demonize everyone who disagrees with you, so that you can rest from his understanding.

His father completely mutilated his face from beating him and told him: I will do the Friday sermon against you and you will all be present, oh infidels in Qaada after that, if you admit your infidelity, you will be killed

It was Friday and he was preparing to wash his hand. He will go to the mosque now, pure and innocent, to announce them to the whole village and save himself from removing being the sheikh of the village. No one will accept that the son of the village sheikh is an unbeliever and will remain on the throne of the sheikhdom.

He was very disturbed and nervous, he entered the mosque and everyone looked at him and was waiting for what he would say about his son and his friends until he started: He found some curses from the infidels, including my son, and we must take a position that pleases God and His Messenger, and this position is determined after listening to them.

His voice was loud in the microphone, a loud voice, all of them were hearing what the Sheikh was saying carefully, that the matter had become big and he was famous, and they must take practical positions for that.

Ahmed fled after the beating to his only shelter, the tree, intending to end his life, the place was completely empty, he searched for a rope everywhere next to the tree and finally found it, hung it and left his notes on the ground next to the tree and did not even look at anything to say goodbye and did not notice that this is the last moment in his life On the ground, he climbed up the tree, wrapped a rope around his neck and dangled until it was over.

I was walking to the tree and my heart was beating a strange beat, as if there was a beast tearing it apart or eating it. I listened to the foolish sheikh raising his voice and saying, “Either they come back or we will kill them” until I reached the sight that allowed me to see the tree and I found one of them hanging there so I ran quickly and my feet She is shackled as I used to feel in childhood when I ran when I heard of the death of my father and mother, I suspected that he was Ahmed, I was suspicious and it was really him, he was hanging from the strong green tree branch that carried us warmth, his eyes ascending to the sky and his head red as if death was still alive in him and in the place And a black cat was standing, pointing her head at him, howling very loudly. I did not know what to do? I stood looking at his face and found the diary, so I took it and got into my first carriage and went. I was very afraid that we would perish. My heart did not move, it did not fall off and blush like this time, I was not able to breathe and my soul was less I felt that I rejected the whole world because it is what led him here and I was not Do I know where to go and why not?

Am I malicious now that I left them in this holocaust that will happen? Death awaits all of them, but I am astonished by what happened, I do not believe this until now, and I do not believe that I will not see Ahmed again or that he committed suicide and left all of it behind. I feel great awe and fear, that I have been robbed and that there is no flash in the whole world to continue life, with extreme poverty of meanings He got angry and irritated. Did these ignorant fools win? This was the first time I thought about suicide, opening the car door and throwing myself in the river. We paddled together and we must commit suicide together, but I saw my mother’s ghost behind the window continuing to whisper in the void, “Go where no one finds you.” For a moment, I did not realize who I was or what to do. ? It is a dream whose end is unknown, ignorant of his journey in my head. Nothing has helped him, neither our warmth, nor his writing, nor anything. His writings are all with me, I will read them all, I will always read them, I do not remember you, and I know this hell in which he was living. This explosive world in his head will now sleep and relax in nothingness.

My hands tremble hard on the paper until the driver stood up, Mazen called me, and I opened and began to talk, my tongue was not moving, I tried but to no avail. A long time ago, without emotional relationships, without restoring my feelings of my fragmented being, all my emotions boiled down to the tumbling of controversial fantasies. My heart, which was of a sky-blue crystal, which was warming around me, now became silent ashes. I migrated far away in loneliness until I lost my identity as a being In it I have a common denominator with the world, even if it is simple. I do all things alone and the percentage of other interference in my world decreases a little bit. I knew that it would be difficult with time because I am not always this strong and this psychological independence. But now I am facing that great shame combined with my great feeling of language. Loneliness strengthens the connection with language, with the gelatinous that non-conscious Language strengthens the connection to the deceptive place called loneliness. Sometimes I sit with friends and they tell me stories of their relationships and ask about when did I enter into a romantic relationship? So my response is always that I am not present in order to enter a relationship with someone, I have to bear the responsibility for this vanishing and that I do not approach anyone for fear of being alarmed by my deep loneliness and he did not bear the decoding and complexity of my confusion and I do not trust in my ability to continue and I will not participate in a relationship to balance myself Nor in order to breastfeed from the other my psychological reassurance, as I always automatically try to strip the feeling and attraction of the causes of emotional use or that are not related to the paradoxical aesthetic that I want to penetrate. I have lost a lot of my social capabilities and cannot recover them because there are strong reasons for not doing that, and I lost a lot Of the people I love and love because of that loneliness, sometimes I regret and sometimes not. I have not experienced many social or emotional feelings in my life, I do not know what the feeling of belonging or what it feels like to be sanctified, for example, and I do not know how to feel that, it is too late. Another point in emotional relationships is my constant desire to commit suicide, which I cannot fully control. I do not want to let people down more and that is from morals learned from loneliness and time in it.

In the next paper, “I feel I will commit suicide soon.”

In the paper that follows “Question marks fill in the paper”

In the paper that follows some poetry. ”

My cave is destroyed, oh world

My orphan bats pained by the light

And death is green and green.

Everything breaks down into futility and pain

Even the absolute self behind the muffler

Even the self in the mirror that always fights with me. ”

In the next paper there is a long heading of death. ”

Death drenches the poet’s soul with its malicious luster

He argues his inner fire

He avenges his previous defeats in front of him throughout his poems.

O great miraculous power of the world

Torment your prey and her neighborhood

Come cover your rich darkness around my neck

I am the son of ruin

No folks for me here on earth. ”

In the next paper

Avni your wine stranger than we found

I will be absent from you until we find both of us

If I get tired, straighten my heart on backbiting

If you die, don’t find me again. ”

None of us knew that he was writing and was interested in this gluttony. He did not tell us or speak about it at all, even when Magdy or Mazen used to divorce some poetry or colloquial prose, he did not reply or complete. Why did you, my friend, leave us afraid and go into black or white? You don’t deserve all this pain, you don’t deserve all that loneliness!

I was the closest person to him in them and he never told me anything of this and he never showed me anything. I cried with a burning sensation and I felt the lack of description and translation when inside me I cried so hard I did not cry for my mother or father and I continued reading while I cried, the world was then empty of everything like an authentic ancient ruin No god could ever live it, I felt the pettiness of everything around me and my extreme smallness in the absurdity that connects everything to the gum of pain and the futility of complaining to even the suffocating damp air.

In the next paper I found a poem

"

Founding the world on a ruined void

Suspicious of absurdity and mindless loafing in nothingness

I am founded on puzzle, dope and sailing.

My chastity is not to violate the debt of my heart

And my being is nourished in her survival on my abomination.

I do not agree except to talk about myself

It is which i know its complete ruin

I write maze furniture and do not put alarms or keys

For those who come after me and buy them the training by chance, my life.

I hear a loud howl that reminds me of my father’s voice and my conversations with the walls

On a cold night everything is in his unit.

My father slogged in him the legitimate god of ignorance

My suicide hastens the erasure of my secret mystic. ”

I found a paper with vital blood that he seems to have written today

Goodbye, my mourned, blasphemous friends

Goodbye Shams, in whose neighborhood I found a heart more compassionate to me than my father

Goodbye Islam without agnosticism

Goodbye, glorious scientific fiction

Farewell to Mazen, in his Arabic language, which is closest to my heart in the world

Farewell to twilight and dawn

For my many fictional worlds

To the strange instincts of madness ”

I kept reading page after page until I found severed pages and did not think about what I would do after that. In the daytime I concentrated on the Nile for hours thinking and all my thinking was about suicide and I could no longer return to the village and if I did not return what would I do in this vast world? I will not go back and ride to another governorate and move away as much as possible from everyone who knows the village, to a place where no one knows me, as foreigners are my only right in the world.

I chose Alexandria, I had enough money, maybe for a week. I have a great thirst for wine and I want to go to any bar there. I was very sad and I do not know whether this seemed to me to this degree or not? A girl approached me and looked at me directly in my eyes for a few seconds, and I did not speak and say nothing. I thought that she was near me, but not so close to drunkenness, and she said directly, “You are seduced to dance and scream.” So she smiled and narrowed my left eye as usual and turned my gaze away from her. My imagination and that all of this did not happen realistically, but she touched me from behind, so I looked in astonishment that she was there, and I looked in her eyes without fear and without any hesitation or anxiety, and I told her in classical Arabic, because when I get drunk, I usually speak with God, not with someone.

So she smiled, “Come let’s dance.” I did not know what to do. I went with her and did not know how she danced, until I was about to go out because I felt that I was in a prison and the phantoms began to abound. This night I went away to a place I do not know and slept on the sidewalk and did not know what happened afterwards, I dreamed of horrors on my behalf, about Mazen, about Islam, about Magdy, and about Ahmed. I’m drunk now, I don’t know why a secret? And what do I see from worlds? But it is an ocean coming, and I smoke my cigarette on my bed, drink it and stay in a vacuum with coincidences. It seems that I have lost my memory because I forgot where I put my cigarette pack, in this mess that resembles a human intestine. I woke up in a lonely room, tied up, not knowing where I am or what I am doing here or what the identity of this place is, I used to go in and out of my hiding places constantly, all my repression appeared in those nightmares and I was tired like I had never been before, sometimes I felt snakes walking In my body, the electricity sessions were maybe. I woke up after a while, but in the end I learned that he was self-correcting. I do not know what I did to get in here nor how long I stayed there except after a long time, it was like a long day only, but it was three years until I began to recover, my body was weak and lacked a large number From the kilos, my hands and feet were all booby-trapped by needles.

The world was cloudy and it was like a silent cinema and its silence was sometimes horrible and sometimes pleasant. Ahmed was reading in my dream his poems and this was the only voice I heard, as if he was in an altar saying:

“I have an absolute relativism in my head

Anything can be everything

Zero rises to absolute, and absolute declines to zero.

My world began with this brutality that eats me first

The willpower weakens a little bit

I am hungry for white.

I confess my greed to destroy public

Hovering high to see its desolation as one eagle in the world.

Any ecstasy has an attraction beyond my visions

He changed the ultimate experimentation of a holly in poetry

And the pleasure of things is like the pleasure of crime.

I fell in love with a woman and he found her a suicide pleasure.

I hated the world, and my hatred was devastating to me.

They flew like soot on the edge of the dense, dark border that flows into infinity

Let ugly rodents come out of me and loan them out.

In the end, my inner space became old. ”

I woke up and the doctor started telling me: Who are you? what’s your name?

I looked at him very amazed, and I could not remember things quickly or completely.

I told him: My name is Shams, and I am not from here

He said: Tell us the address of your family, so let us ask them to come to take you

I said: I have no family, I have no one in this world

He said: It seems that you are still tired, do not you remember why you came here?

I said to him: No, I can only remember much blood flowing from me and the electric shocks

He said, “It does not matter now, little by little. You will recover and see the matter. Don’t worry.”

My eyes went away again on the wall painted with drawings by former patients, as if they were primitive drawings from the first caves. I started to wake up more each time for a longer period until I gradually recovered and the doctor told me that he had a room in his house that I could take and he would find work for me. I asked him about the paper that was. With me

He said: It is still preserved. I took it home with me and excuse me that I read it because I wanted to know your condition, but I also did not know.

I went out of the hospital, it was a terrible suffocation and a dislocation of backbiting, but I started talking after these years of silence, I did not rejoice at that much, and I preferred silence despite my ability that returned to it. I went with the doctor to his house. It was an old room, but suitable for my heart and soul, I wanted nothing but that, but I never felt normal, there were many fantasies and my hands were trembling and my body was not aware or focused on anything. Then she fled to the streets after stealing Ahmed’s diary, which she sent to a publishing house, titled “Memoirs of a Suicide” and the writer “Anonymous”. I walk crazy with the many madmen who are sometimes naked and sometimes not, I only eat rarely and I run constantly from the ambulances that are taken to the sanatorium, the sea was the refuge and I thought a lot about escaping into it and committing suicide, this was my main daily idea, the first thing I woke up And before I fell asleep, I did not pay attention to the world, nor to time, nor to anything, I was free from everything but that melancholy inside me.

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