28 Oct 2006


'Et si tu crois que c`est fini
C`est juste une pause, un répit
Après les dangers

Et si tu crois que je t`oublie
Ouvre ton corps aux vents de la nuit
Ferme les yeux'

Garou never cease to impress me with his songs. Love that voice. 'Sous le vent'.

Indeed, 'sous le vent', je survis. Réellement, je meurs.

'Sous le vent', there rests a bundle of strangled, untamed, forever hidden, marinated, very raw and wild water. When the ebb season comes in, it attempts- so openly, hopefully and optimistically- carve its way in its contained space. Peak here and there. Open new lands. Extend and expand itself into new soil. Sneak into new sand. Penetrate and sink palyfulnessly into an island. Reveal its shiny, sparkling nature. Full of hope and longing to fill the island of its choice and find this little seed that is awaiting its danggling, dancing drops. So close to reaching that, the tide comes in. Pulling the water back, before reaching its goal. Leaving the island thirsty. The seed unwatered. The very core of the water dry. More thirsty. Forcing the water to be confined again. In the dark little cave. Marinated again. Like the bottle of wine. The longer it stays unopened, the more expensive it becomes. With one difference, the water becomes rotten. Becomes less expensive. Cheaper. Too concentrated to be healthy. Too stagnant. Too inflexible. By time, the water itself will transform. Disappear. Nature changed to something else. No eye will recognize it anymore. Will wonder, where the water went? No one will find the answer to this question. However, the answer will remain 'sous le vent'. Le vent of solitude. Sadness. Change. Age. Scattered water with its spalshes lost in the ocean. To no one. Not even to itself. Just splashes. Here and there. On the face of a fisherman on a hot day. Cause him to be smile. But will soon dry again and the splash will be forgotten. Forever.


So everytime I want to disconnect from the Mundane, I go There. 'There' there is nothing. No cars. No people. Nothing. Just this pond. The deserted villas of relatives who either died, never go 'There', or putting their villas for sale. Abu 'Ali the fish place where I drive there to get crabs and shrimp to-go and eat it by the water at my favourite spot. I have 2 favourite spot, now 3. Initially it was over the jetski house where I would just sit, overlooking the pond and hiding. Would sleep too on the cement. Drink tea with milk and space out. Watch the segull and the fisher-men. Second best was at the jetty that is extending almost 100 meters into the water. Would sit on the steps. Throwing my legs into the water. Enjoying the wave splashing in my face. Usually sit there early early morning. Take-off my clothes and jump for a morning swim before the fishermen wake-up. I would go there late at night too. Same setting so close to the water. So close to the splashing. Would just sleep on the stairs and look to the sky. Third spot, discovered by my friend, is this spot where the grass ends, to the left, behind the small cottage. So close to the water. When there is an ebb, the water would tickle my feet. Hear so strongly the waves. Challenging it to come closer.

I went there this weekend. Was so relaxing. Some activities to my taste. Mostly relaxing. Playing Suduku. Eating seafood on the grass. Sitting from one spot to the other. Spacing out. Watching the pond and the fishermen, the boats and ships in a distance.

Everytime I go there, I feel waves of sadness invading me. Not that I am cheerful person by design. But it is as if this sadness comes to the surface. So clear. I have a feeling that I do not really want to leave this place. It is where I want to be. Peaceful. Relaxing. I connect to myself to an extent that I could touch the slimmy waves of sadness that engulf my heart. I actually start to drop masks. It is as if I feel safe that this place will protect me. It is partly because I feel there is no surprises in this place, and thus I can lay back and defend my back aganist anything. In cairo, I always feel invaded and watched. 'There' i feel secluded and an owner. An owner of myself and the space around it. In cairo, I have no space. No place. Not owning anything, even my own body. I can be no one and anyone. 'There' I am just myself. Do anything I want to. Which are not many. Couple of things are all what I want. Abbriedged in 'Leave me alone'.

Have you ever noticed when your heart feels 'thinner'? When you move from being sensitive to being more and more and more and more....sensitive? When your tears come rolling down your cheeks, so fast, so enormous? One after the other. Splashing on the floor or page you are reading? WHen you have no clue why these tears? Racing to trace the cause, but there is nothing. Certainly no energy to go deeper. Or maybe you already know the reason--but just absolutely not in the mood to let it out. Ok I recognize you, but not ready to listen now.

It is a sign. A sign of a near eruption. When the volcano erupts, the good goes with the bad. Nothing remains... even the volcano becomes something else. Someone else. Total I suppose.

'How was the accident?'
'How fatal?'
'Uh... very Fatal.'
'Oh, that bad?
'Well, I said Fatal'


- Parking at cilantro, this parking guy keeps irritating me. He is super genuis, I suppose. Can tell from his eyes. He talked to me in English asking me, 'why hadretek forgetting me? This is my job.' To which I answered, 'because I dont like you. You irritate me.' He answered, 'want someone else'. This guy has been my 'annoying guy' since more than a year. I fought with him because when he insisted on making me pay for parking when I thought he was just super ridiculous. Since then, I would never give him a penny, yet he insists on helping me with my parking. He knew I would not pay him. Can tell I hate him. But he just does it for the fun of 'connecting'. My friend asked me over and over to avoid eye-contact with him. Ignore him. But I just can't do that. Have to mumble and exchange sharp eye-contact with. As if I enjoy him irritating me.

- Everytime I look to my right or left and by 'chance' make a quick-eye contact with a driver in the next car, I am suddenly assumed to be wanted to be picked-up. Walking in the street, hotel lobby, restaurant, coffee shop,... I noticed people stare back and assume I want to talk to them. The same friend said that guys wait for this 'eye-contact'. This is what they are waiting for. Well, over and over I defend myself that I unintentionally do this eye-contact thing. I am not searching for any 'invitation' or 'inviting' anyone, it is just this is how I look. Not sure where else should I direct my 'looking'? I admit though, that I like to look people in the eye, but not stare. Just naturally. Not that I intend to do it. I believe it is the way I do a 'handshacking' and translate the words... or synch--Lips with heart I suppose. I am not conscious of that 'translation' but I am sure I do it on some level. I somehow 'sink' deeper in what the other is trying to say. 'Search' a bit to the words. Or as my same same friend say, 'over-read' to which I mumble to correct his statment, 'search for the why'.

- Everytime I go do my hair, I worry too much over the guy washing it for me. Have to repeat the same words again, 'please rinse it again. Are you sure there is no shampoo over my neck. Don't put conditional, just on the end. Cold water please. Is it well rinsed?' The guy, of course the same person, has to everytime swear that it is clean and it is making a noise indicating that it is super rinsed. The leabnese brushing guy, I have to tell him to 'please give it 'volume'. Last time it was too straight. Does it need to be trimmed.' He would laugh because for 3 years now I say the same thing. I am not picky, just like consistency and like to have things done in the way I want. Worry from other people inconsistent outcome and inaccuracy. I hardly change the guy who washed my hair or the Lebanese who brushes it and for sure MJ who cut it for me. For 20 years now, MJ has been my hairdresser, before he got all famous.

- Everytime I enter my office, it is mostly unclean. Dust everywhere. I have to call the office boy to clean it. Wish it is just always clean. If cleaned, I find all my papers moved to the corner. Bothers me that I try to have my office paperless but I just like to have papers around me. Write notes here and there as an atom to my scattered thought, because usually I am thinking about stuff randomly and writing them helps me organize them to what will be an 'innovative' idea. Wish no one enters my office and I will take care of it.

- Everytime I ask for a latte to go, i get different size and different price. I have to ask him that last time I paid 7.70 for a latte, why this time 9.80. This is for the latte. As for the Machiatto, the size is the problem. Once a big cup another time a small one. I wonder which is the right one. Cilantro confusing.

- Chai tea is my favourite. Tea leaf and coffee bean is the place. Once it is there and another time it disappears. The first time I asked for Chai, they gave me a latte chai tea. Never thought there was a latte version of it. I tasted it and was going to vomit. Next time I made sure to ask for 'classic'. Why on earth do I have to be always specific. Why things have zillion of versions? Does classic by anymeans mean anything? Does it mean something outdated? Well, I am outdated.

- Everytime my friend kisses me, she has to comment on my perfume. I tell her its channel. So even if I change it to my second favourite, valentino, I still tell her its channel. All channel. The lotion, the shower gel, the perfume. All channel. I become self conscious. Do not like someone sniffing me all the time. Any more invading than that. Yes, and I remember that the lady asked me if I want the 'intimate' one or the eau de toilette. I said, the 'intimate'. And my same same same friend winked at me for saying that 'intimate' thing. Well, he got it for me.

- Tons of white shirts. I like the colour white. And the colour black. The iron man never iron it well. I have to comment on how he irons it. Not to him. Not to my beloved sweet mom. But to myself. It disturbs me a bit, for a second, that the shirt is not well ironed. Sloppy. Black lines on the sleeves because probably the iron was not clean. I have to wear it. Everytime wonder why on earth can not they do things good. Wonder on the same thought wave, if I can have a steam iron that I can home-iron my clothes to avoid all this hassle. Well, I do not think I can handle home-ironing. Too much work. Better train myself to live with it. I do actually. Just would worry about myself if I just stop noticing these things.

- Everytime I go pay the installment for my house, I have to let the guy tell me how much should I pay. I do not know exactly how much. I know that there is a 5 pounds remainder but never sure if there is a 100 pounds that I should take out as well. The guy for sure thinks that I am a rich bastard who does not know what she is paying. Well, I know but not really concentrating...yet, I know that I have to get '5' back.

- I paid him 20 pounds to clean my car. The inside of my car. He never did. Although he promised to. I leave him. Actually, I dont. Everytime I see him in the morning, I look to him. Give him a stupid smile. Remind myself that he did not do what he promises. But I never tell him. I am waiting for him to tell me that he forgot, but I guess, he won't. The longer and longer we silently exchange this 'recognizing' look, the harder for him to tell me he wanted to clean the car. He was my favourite janitor, I got disappointed in him when he thought I forget what he promised to do--what I would recognize in my dictionary as 'abuse'. Well, I hardly forget. Could be easy to just tell him, but I guess, when I am disappointed in someone I like, I dont confront with my expectation. I just let it be there and watch him/her and myself reacting to this incident. Definetly could lead to a crack.... want to explore why and what i do exactly.

- My friend's daughter, J., everytime I try to play with her she, the little 2 years old girl, would give me this look. I would mumble to her 'little bitch'. This look of her just annoys me. She is blonde. Blue eyes. Super super white. Always wearing pinkish and violet colour cloths. Well, her mother, S., tells my other best friend, Z, why I do not like her daughter. Obviously because of that look that shacks my self-confidence. Well, to show you how silly I am, I intentionally would make this little girl jealous and when she would finally come to play with me like Zizo, I would give her the same look and do not respond. Call me freak, trivial...who cares.

- My newly hired subordinates freaked me out. The first time I assigned her a task, she came into my office to report to me. She came in too fast, invaded the office, walked towards me fast while talking to me, by the time I was just turning to see who is coming she was right infront of me. Almost in between my legs. 80% of my brain and concentration was in what I was doing, now I have to jump into the new world of her. The new physical location. Overcome the annoyance of her standing so close to me. If you are guessing, I dont like people who stands too close to me, who stands behind me when I am working, who stands up talking to me while I am sitting, who talks fast, who asks me and expects an answer, who hold me hostage to their problems early in the morning when I am just coming focusing on something totally different. The moment I hear, 'issue', 'opinion', 'your input', I feel a dagger in my heart.

16 Oct 2006


You know? I miss you. With you, I built my own images of this old black and white world. Of a fair-lady. A love story. Smelled the 'essence Uff' of the world of boundaries and false aristocracy. Seen or rather imagined the workshop for creation. Creation of beauty, up lifting scenes and plays. Elegance. Really elegant you were. Dedicated. Loyal. Attached. Baby till the last moment. Loving to life and to beauty. To taste. Elegant taste. Sleeping on the King's bed. Angels at its corner. Golden brass metal boundaries. Not isolating you, yet preserving your golden age. Golden heart and art. Your energy filled me up when I see you jumping, singing, loving, adapting, projecting, crying in sorrow and in happiness. Declaring your love on stage. On the very place you adored. United your Lover with your beloved. Neither one got jealous. They accept. They loved one another because they loved you. You bounded them and they bounded you. So sad this ever changing world. But it can not be otherwise. Really wished you were always present. Could be better you disappeared.

I looked feverishly for your address. I did not find it. Not sure if anyone can tell me where to find where you live. I want to come visit. Sincerly. I know you are in Zamalek. Where? I do not know. I just feel I want to see the entrance. Sense the energy of this building you tapped with glory, success, happiness and later despair. Could be. You entered there everyday after hearing the applauding, clapping hands and the heart-felt full laughs. What did you feel back then? What were you thinking every time you clicked these stairs or pressed this elevator button. I have a fantasy that I can sense all that when I delve into your space.

Interesting this deep connection to places that I develop. Not places but to buildings. To entourage. Not human entourage but stones. Silent. Non breathing yet absorbing entourage. They say a lot. Only if you listen. Where your bed-room window is tells me a lot about you. In fact, tells me about myself. I, at times, even feel the sadness or glory of a building. How it stands, connects with me. Something in the air there whispers me your secrets. Make me annonymously enter your world and watch you from behind the curtains. When rehearsing. Not when actually playing life.

To me, you only lived when you were acting. Wished to have been given the chance to see you while you actually lived. Could not do it. Hoping to create it.

A Tribute to your Virgo heart. Mind and Soul. Wish you will find the stamp you lost your life searching for.

15 Oct 2006


And it starts to go away. Does it really? Well, I did not utter it but delivered it. Yea, I can actually deny and refuse. Do I still have the power to do that? Surprisingly, I can. I said it and was comfortable with. My mind did not object, neither did my heart. Did they align? I guess so. After a number of wounds they align. Mind and heart are collaborating. No more enemies. No more positive and negative. Joined the same time. I know why they aligned? I made-up between them actually. Shared them to eachother. Expalined the other's reason and left. Did not impose one on the other. Sounds like it worked. Initially at least. Glad the 2 supported the joined decision to respect me. My wish. Smooth 'compromise'. Thank you.

It is really no surprise. The running scenario in my head happened. Deja Vu. I rehersed it and it happened. It did. Opening another possibility to what else are running in my mind. To more severe real scenarios. This time I rehersed. Probably will reherse to more scenarios. Convince myself. Prepare. Yes, prepare to shield. What's wrong with that? Everyone does it. Why have to pretend that I do not do it. Could be when I do the shield, I shield it all. Thick. Water proof. Air proof. Breath proof. Feeling proof. Just slow death or slow life. Depends how you see it. Better than sudden death. Plan as you like and I will take notes. Plan and I will starting planning. Plan and I plan. Plan and I am gone. Not really interested in another christmas hit.


It has been so long. Alone. On my own. Calming down and relaxing. Not particularly nostalgic to old days couple of years back. Yet nostalgic to meeting. And I met. Instantly. Deeply and this time with absolutely no intensity. Just as the two seas meet yet no one overpowers the other. No invading. Just two meeting together silently. The longing was so high. Been what, four years now of separation, with a year of complete break in the connection. Dry, disconnected, tensed, shame, fear, boredom, avoidance, no willingness, escape, sarcasm, disappointement, sadness, emptiness, falseness, confusion, sinking. And the long list keeps getting longer. I am happy I decided to do it. To take the endeavour. To insist. Absorb all the initial rejection that started from the circumstances and the people around. Refusal and the normal attempt to pull me to the many discouraging details. Guilt. Sympathy. Well, I had enough. I insisted to meet and I did. I left behind all the begging looks and hopes. Just fake ones pretending they want to come along. Deep down wants to just tie me close. The fearful mind works so hard. Works to capture and not to set free. It was not a heroic scene that I conqured. Maybe it was. Maybe I became so satisfied with wining battles that for long time were my ultimate absolute right. Did not even question them back then. I just do it. Sounds like when I grow older here, the given rights are taken away. The battles become more trivial and basic.

1307 was the code. Beautiful. As if God wanted to make me happy. And He did. He most of the time does actually. Thank you. I delved inside. Freed myself. All mine. Simple. Welcoming and smiling. I immediately connected. I opened up. Sat down. A smile refused to leave my face. Opened up more areas and found beautiful blue space, sea of unknown beauty inside. Sailing and fishing. Stillness and movement. How beautiful the space was. Been so long since my sight and heart opened up. Relaxed. Extended. No borders. The whole thing is for me to enjoy. I did.

Walked a lot. Dawn. Morning. Night. Midnight. Noon. Walked alone. Music and thoughts. No books. My thoughts are enough. Coffee. Sea. Fence. Isolated. My back to this civilization I refused to be part of. Confusing me and pushing me here and there. I let myself be pushed. This time I was not pushed. Neither push. Just decided to lend myself to the world I like. The world of tranquility. I could not feel it inside, yet longed to borrow it from the sea. I was formal for the place and the people. Big glasses. Jacket. Serious look. Yes, foreigner. I am a foreigner. I claim i dont like to be one, but this time I wanted to. Was an advantage. I needed everyone to fuckoff. They did. Civilized? I do not know, maybe just cause I was not provocking them with my eye-contact. Maybe I was so contained in myself that they felt no need to intact with me. They however watched. I watched too.

As my norm, developed a little routine. I feel safer with routine. Safer with routes. Safer with plans that no one knows about it by myself. My little black on brown drink. Cross the road. Miraculously. Sit on the high stools. Watch the people smoking and talking. I knew no one and so did they. No slightest chance they ever think I look familiar. I am not from here. I am stranger. And in that sense I was.

Cross the street again. With the black and brown. Sit for hours just staring. Sipping slowly. Music 'Lisa Gerard' beautiful voice, 'the hours' intense sound track, 'Emma Chapline', 'Garou'. Strong vibrating voices, music and tones. Volume to the maximum. Counting the ships. Sailing boots. For an second, the number of the distant boats increased. From 10 yesterday to 14 today, 19 2 minutes ago, 23 1 minute ago, 27 now. What on earth is that. An attack I thought to myself. Yes! A false attack. Why would they attack us. To do what? Nothing. Shattered, desperated, stoned and sinking in despair as we are, what good are we. Burden. As if you are carrying the corps of your enemy. Why would you do that? No reason for that. Pity I supose. Not even pity. Who cares. Arsa minor, arsa major, north pole bear, cassopeia. All there so present. So beautiful. I was just witnessing your sun couple of hours before.

I watched the sun goes down. Watched it for a whole 45 minutes. Just staring towards it. As it made its way down to the water. Until it disappeared. Only its tip remained. Then the tip disappeared. Its ring shadow remained. An illuminating circle. Then Booo, light off. Where did you go? Who are there on the other side? Did you really disappear? Should I have done anything so that you stay? Probably sail towards you to be always with you. To feel your warmth. Well, maybe I dont really want to be always warm. It could be better that I stay back. More wise to watch and never participate in your life. Give you all the space and chance and when you decide to disappear, I let you do so. Peacefully. Sincerely. No wish to know where you are going. I enjoyed it from here. Enjoyed the warmth and now its time to enjoy the moon and its whiteness. Maybe when you do what you have to do, you will come again to give me warmth. You will be different sun. I will in a different space. Sure not there anymore. Will be the same. Always the same, this is the apparent destiny or pattern. Yet different inside. More and less of things and things. How funny.

One thing I realized, I enjoyed it. I forget a lot of things that were for long time on my mind. Nagging and nagging and nagging. I did not even searched or dared or cared to remember. I forgot. Simply. Was just happy to connect. To check. To really tune and assure that it's ok. To persuade to come back and stay. To not leave. To open up and with a promise to never leave again. It is always good to be alone with you. I missed you. Really missed you. I promise to come visit again. Connect. I need it and you need it. It is a recharging. Reminder of who I am.