If you listen closely, you might hear why I’m comfortable living in the Republic of Hermitdom.
A capella in My head
Then morning came, and it started ringing in my head. Not in the patient, soberly tone that Qusay's voice sounds.
It rang in my own unintelligible, repetitive, and snobby voice, “Who are you to claim expertise on blogging or writing? Who are you to think that you deserve sharing the same platform with the people you idolize? Who are you…”
It went on and on. And that was a whole week spent on recuperating before I mustered the courage to face the demons and write this.
If everything I said was honest-to-God gushing, then why am I left with is this bitter taste of an overly-inflated-to-the-point-of-narcissistic-explosion toad?
This is probably why people put layers on their feelings. Why they sublimate love into flowers and chocolates and lace. Why emotional gushing, in polite societies, is tacky and cheapens the white heat of our personal revelations.
Who would have thought that there is so much self-reevaluation to take just from one podcast? I can’t imagine what it’s like for Nessie.
Labor Omnia Vincit
I can guarantee that none of us on that table was intentionally a presumptuous ass.
Saad had such a huge heart that it covered our need for gratitude. The Qusay who came was exactly the same Qusay who had been influencing the tone my writing voice. And Nessie and Souma, man, they’re the people I would go to if I ever killed anybody and needed someone to help me bury the evidence.
I can’t tell you all that without denting the truth with naiveté. I can show you, instead, how their work convinced me into trusting them. I can tell you that, someone who has the ability to pledge faith in anything as elusive as the satisfaction of posting, deserves a second evaluative look and respect.
For, it takes a colossal amount of courage and humility to do anything persistently for more than 30 months. And that courage and humility, if it was not fueled by something as colossally powerful and good, would have quickly lost footing and sunk in a cold sea of silent embarrassment.
Hail to bloggers and podcasters and readers; for their solidarity and companionship to one another. Hail to the people who bothered to float their craft, even when it’s lonesome and scary. Like Ethar and Wafa and Dentographer. Like the voices I finally shared table with, on that Thursday afternoon in Jeddah, after so many years of living in each others’ heads.
Hail to everything that made it more painful to remain tight inside the bud than to risk