The role I played in Egypt was clear and perfectly assumed: as a “rakkasah” (dancer) who happened not to sleep around in exchange for work, I was seen as an alien, an outcast, a marginal and a damned creature people simutaneously loved and feared.
Once I released myself from the “La La Land grip” and inhaled more civilized air, I figured I would be seen as a normal person (whatever that means). Surprise, surprise! I´m still Frankenstein; still an alien; still a marginal no one really gets.
Which brings me to the subject of being faithful to whom you are – no matter where you live or travel.
I don´t know how to discuss magazine gossip; how to complain about life with neighbors; how to whine over spilt milk on the supermarket waiting line; how to put my nose in other people´s private lives and envy their gardens instead of taking care of mine; how to be in a relationship just because everybody else says I should or go for a man who looks perfect on paper (he has to feel perfect in my heart); how to play the games and wear the masks; how to be superficial and focused on stuff I couldn´t care less about; how to be like everybody else: working on loveless jobs, paying taxes, marrying and having children and dying. I just can´t. Not that I tried, anyways. I recognize suicide when I see it.
Face it, Joujou: you´ll never be a “normal person” – not even if you wanted to. Out of this world is probably what you were born to be.
P.S: Starting to warm up to my freak identity 😉