A few hours ago I wrote in my most desperate of diaries. The one I go to when I’ve lost all hope in people and resort to my imaginary confidant. This book is my new holder of letters to a man I have become terrified of going to. Because I know that writing to him means that I’ve reached rock bottom. This is Thomas.
I often tell people I’m ambidextrous. It’s been years now since my mom offhandedly (pardon the pun) said that either my brother, Tareq, or I were left-handed as a child*. I’ve always had this theory that most artists are left-handed, so I really wanted it to have been me. I do certain things with my left hand, kick with my left foot-whenever I feel the urge to kick that is. It had to have been me. Anyway, a few years back I wanted to use both my left and right hand at the same time to draw a picture. The strangest-and most natural-thing happened: my left hand was mirroring my right. I didn’t even have to think about it. The drawing above is such an example. I’m probably not the first or last to do this, but to me, it was a wonderful discovery. It made me feel special (and kind of like a mini superhero) for about a month.
*In Islam, the right hand is preferred to the left. You MUST eat with your right hand because you’re dining with the Devil himself if you use your left one.