My days are starting to be the same. Fitted into the designed mold of the do-nothings and the feel-nothings.

I’m craving taste, not that of sugar or even less of cigarettes. I’m craving the life savour. When freedom breaches my hair, and happiness fills my lungs. …

(Late Publishing)

Today marks day confinement N°50.

50 days of quarantine and self-isolation.

I didn’t know that this would be possible.

It was a hard count.

I’m a solitary person, in general. I tend to live inside my head without complains. I entertain my soul with random thoughts, I make myself laugh even though nobody would…

Write me flowers;

For all they have in between

The seeds, the pollen and the green

Maybe stop at how the birds and insects interfere

Or just let it be at what the Men see

Love, apology and recovery.

Write me stories;

and tell me about them beauties

Beasts, heroes and big fantasies

Once upon time

They were in rhyme

Faith, hopes and prodigies.

Write me pictures

For all they hide in tiny pixels

the frames, the close ups and the angles

Let them be our serendipity

In thousands words they’ll construe

Beauty, loyalty and our shared dreams.

For now, I’ll just write you

what you mean to me

so us can be

all what we

could have been.

Today, I heard from a friend about a foreigner who thought Morocco is the kind of country where you only see women wearing black burkas, oppressed with no rights. He was even more shocked to hear that we, women, can drive there. …

I’ve heard so many things about about that sensation. The weird feeling that flatters your stomach and plays tricks with you tummy; infiltrating your brain and making you feel anxiety and happiness at the same. It’s what they call love. …

You know the feeling of being lost in the middle of the namely known path you were dreaming of for 5 years straight? Whether it’s a yes or a no, let me tell you how I see things. That of course only if you have 2 minutes to spare and…