all we ever become are stories

My dad wasn’t home.

My mom was fast asleep, too deep in the spiral of slumber to stop me from my devastating deed.

My 6-year old heart was pacing and my limbs suddenly turned agile in feline fashion as I realized there was no one to stop me from my potentially fatal yet thrilling self-inflicted doom. I’m going to do it and no one can stop me.

I slowly paced on the grassy carpet. I was taking in air from my mouth, a technique I learnt from Kids Next Door that minimizes the sound of breathing. In my ever so opportunistic manner, I grabbed the “parachute” I had stitched together with tape and plastic bags and (inefficiently) used my tree-climbing abilities to climb up the looming tower in the living room: the bookshelf.

I leapt onto the first step, parachute in hand. Unfortunately, in that action, a bunch of books proceeded to fall from the rack onto the floor, creating an array of loud thuds.

Disadvantage. I suddenly heard my mom yell from her bedroom. “AYESHA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Oops?

But it was too late. I bit onto the parachute to free my hands and climbed to the top of the bookshelf. In glee, I stared at how different my living room looked from the top… and in awe of how high up I seemed to be even though the bookshelf was only 5 steps in the air.

I heard my mom quickly pacing to the living room, but I had already sealed my fate.

Right before my mom could make it into the room, I jumped off with full faith in my self-made parachute…

…but the exhilarating second of the flight was short-lived because I ended my fall with a fractured leg.

Sweet, sweet victory can only come with pain, so I wore my leg cast as a triumphant token of stubborn bravery. I still do, but it’s more metaphorical now.

On this note, I shall introduce myself: Hello! My name is Ayesha, and as you can see, I love to tell stories.

My childhood was inventiveness tied and twisted with humor, inculcating a mind to relentlessly pursue creativity in solving problems. This blog is to tell stories on how hacker culture, computing, invention, artistic essence and stories raised me into the crazy amalgamation of fluctuating ideas I am today because – in the end – all we really are are stories. Stories you tell over the dinner table, stories you pass down to your grandchildren, stories you tell to your lover under the Northern Lights… we live in people’s minds, and I truly hope to be a friend in yours.

Join me on my adventures of getting speed-ticketed on motorized shopping carts, projecting a middle finger onto the moor in my neighbourhood and occasional heartfelt poetry. I have so much to tell and share with you.

Ever yours,

Ayesha (fr3AAky) [yes – I have a hacker name, and I am relentlessly proud of it]

P.S.: you can find my posts here: https://diaryofarobotbuilder.wordpress.com/posts/

and you can find my social media below

 

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