Lullaby

          It was late at night when Rania started to have ponderous and suffocating thoughts. It was like she was executing herself on her own bed. Wasn’t the bed supposed to be warm and peaceful? Then, why does it feel like a battlefield; a war between her conscious and reality? She thought about what she has done during the entire “heart-beating” and “lung-breathing” spectrum. Why do some people look down on her? Look down on her as if she is some kind of trash. Why hasn’t she yet discovered a cure for cancer? Wasn’t this one of her goals when she was younger? Why isn’t she married to her teenage celebrity crush? Wasn’t that part of her ambitions? Why is she not even thinking about that man anymore? Did her lusting feelings flee without announcing farewell? Why is she not talking to her parents anymore? Didn’t she promise them before moving out the family house that she would constantly talk to them every day until they get sick of calls? What about her “dream job”? Why hasn’t she fought and struggled for it? Why did she give up and settle on a job that could afford her food and shelter? Didn’t she want more than food and shelter? Didn’t she yearn for going out every night to fancy restaurants, dressing up in breathtakingly expensive outfits, traveling all over the world, writing a book, having her own chief, and etc.? Why didn’t her current job give her all those opportunities? Why doesn’t she have numerous friends? What happened to her high school and college friends? Where did they vanish to? They used to always talk to her and ask her to hangout incessantly. Okay, what about her body? Didn’t she always say that she will always go to the gym and work out? That she will always stick to a healthy diet and that she will always shop at an organic store? But why do the organic shops have to be so unbearably pricy? She can’t miraculously plant money?! Then why is she ugly? Why doesn’t she have time to look decent every day? Why doesn’t she apply good quality makeup to hide her flaws? To hide her blemished blemishes, her wrinkled wrinkles, and her redden red spots. Why doesn’t she contour her abnormal looking nose? Why hasn’t she decided on plastic surgery to plump up her tiny and chapped lips? Maybe that could attract a man.. Or attract someone! That night, Rania yearned to sleep to shut those thoughts much more potently than her yearnings to achieve her young goals. She recognized as she grew older, her desire to live diminished. She figured out that the older she grew, the harder reality slaps her.  That night, her tears were the mournful lullaby to her sleep. That night, she dreamt about going back in time.