The opposite of...
The opposite of rich isn't poor; it's scared.
The opposite of creativity isn't being uncreative; it's being dead.
The opposite of writing is doubt.
The opposite of you isn’t me; it’s not taking risks.
A Zero-sum game
A writer writes to be heard, not merely liked. Seeking universal admiration is a zero-sum game. Trying to be a writer everyone adores can mean sacrificing authenticity. However, being true to oneself ensures you're not trading long-term integrity for short-term approval.
Page One.
It’s always page one. Every time you write, remember that it’s the first time you write.
It’s always your first cup of coffee. It’s always your first love.
You are one, and what you write is unique to you.
Deep in the galaxies, I found a planet called “Page One.”
It seemed so far.
There’s a planet within me called page one.
About Me
Motaz H. Matar, a globally recognized director and storyteller, uniquely merges Eastern and Western narratives in his creative pursuits. Born in Palestine and raised in Jordan, he holds an MFA in Cinematic Arts and an MA in Serial Storytelling, and approaches content creation with a perpetual learner’s mindset. With accolades for his feature film 'Slingshot' and novel 'The Pigeon Whisperer,' and a PromaxBDA award in 2012, Motaz not only leaves his mark in storytelling but also in academia as an Assistant Professor at Zayed University, Dubai. His storytelling journey continues with the anticipated 2023 release of the 3D animated film “Where the Two Seas Meet,” further showcasing his adept storytelling across various mediums.
A shimmering light
Yesterday was one of the worst of my life,
To say the least.
How does the soul die, and it hasn’t died yet?
Yesterday,
The world is proving to be more hostile than I imagined.
The innocent is not innocent anymore.
The child in me, dead?
Who am I to say?
And I’m in a place safe.
Who am I kidding,
When I say I know how to live or how to die.
I am running out of things to say.
I am running out of veins.
Blood.
I’m running out of everything.
The words don’t serve me.
And the pen.
Who’s to care?
I'm afraid yesterday was full of regrets; tomorrow?
like a dark tunnel with a shimmering light,
Is there light?
Is there a way out?
Meet me halfway
I asked if you could meet me halfway, but you didn't. You were busy for a long time, and life took you away. I understand life could be a b*tch sometimes. I thought maybe you were depressed or negative or feeling down, or you've had other priorities. But the minimum is halfway. Beyond that? I doubt the friendship will survive over time. I'm sorry, my friend. I asked myself to meet that person halfway, more than halfway, just to be sure I'm minimizing regrets when I think of you. We could've been friends; I did my best. We could still be friends if we meet halfway again. I won't walk another mile to find you; it's your turn now. My apologies for being taken care of. I'm happy. The ball is in your court now.