A Message from within

A tree. A bird. A river. A bird needs a tree? A tree is ok having a bird? But The tree can not fly, and the Bird can not just sit in the tree. What the tree wants? A river! Water not river though. Water carves it's way through anything. Aim is to find a path. Smooth and determined. If stuck, it will create a path. Captured or controlled, will lose its meaning. Contain itself into a stagnant and poisonous swamp. Will dry out. Will lose its meaning. Will lose the life force created within. Will be a place for death. Bacteria. Dead body. You name it. Will defy its own meaning for existence. Water flows. Just flows. Moves and in its movement is life. To it and to whatever its path cross. Does not stop, yet nourishs everything it face. Reveals something new. Disturbs at times. Heals at others. All the contradictions. All the meanings and effects. A symbol of life. Move, yet, in its movement is home to itself. A visitor. A traveller. A strange. Yet a familiar stranger to everything it re

I do not like to be: Misunderstood Judged as a changing, unstable character Jealous My actions and reaction judged and assessed Under continus survelliance Justify and explain myself Talk about what I feel or how someone should do. Reveal my expectation Disappoint and not meet the expectation i put on myself towards the other or the other's expectation in me Feel imprisoned, either emotionally or physically or reaction wise Vaguness and ambiguity Mistrust and have my suspicions triggered. I am detective by nature. Know what's happening but prefer others to tell me Feel unappreciated or criticized internally Silent criticizim. Hiding what you feel or what you think of things or what you think of me I want to know everything, every thought, however, i dont have to do the same Feel things are unshared, but again, I dont have to share everything. I do not do this intentionally, just I dont feel like doing so Dont like to be predictable. All my reactions and actions known. Yet, I wa

Was super bored. Sad. Not tolerating anyone or anything. Did not want to lose this time of the year. Nice weather and nice ambiance. I decided to go watch 'Devil wears Prada.' Highly recommended. They said that I in particular will like it. Well, I like it. Meryl is absolutely amazing. She gives a different intense deep vibe to everything she goes into. Well, she was great. I love this particular character. The strong, agressive, emotionless, heartless, dry woman, yet inside, a volcano of emotions. Love that she pushes on people so hard. Give them opportunities and wish they take it. Wish they refuse it. Just wish to get the best out of everyone. To make everyone tense. Intense. Confused. Yet at the end, there is a deep trust they will choose what they really want even if its opposite to what she wants. I just enjoy that. So went to the movie. Walked around. Ate. Someone stocked me. It was fun. I escaped from him. He was an asshole. I entered elevator. He entered after me. Ther

I met friday by pure coincidence this friday. I was going to Citystars to meet a friend of mine. I usually go to the mall through the Intercontiental. Wearing a huge sunglasses, I passed by him. He was checking out. We looked to eachother and passed. I turned back and exclaimed, 'OMG, Friday!' And burst laughing. What on earth brought you here. Doing what? We decided to go for cafe. It was fun. Friday has been one of these guys with whom I had a strong connection. We clicked from the start. He brought me flowers on my birthday and I never took them. I was shy back then. He used to come to our house study with my brother. We ended up talking in the balcony. I really liked him a lot and so did he. We would disappear and connect. Connect like never before and then disappear. He went to the states and back. WHen he was back, I went. Then he went and I was there. We met. I travelled to Texas to see my brother who was staying with him. I stayed for a week with them. Was great. The co

The book was there. First thing I get to notice, sure among other things. But was it a sign. Osman's dream? Well, who is Osman? An arrogant, selfish and image orietned empire that claimed majesty and purity, stole lienage and heritage and ended up leaving us in ruins. What started as only a dream runied people's lives. Dreams are dangerous. Dangerous to those who just follow other's dreams and get so indulged in it that they after a while adopt them as theirs and die for it. Or even live in it. Tricky! Some people just can convince you and you go along. Not only convince you of their dreams, but mock yours and make you hate it and be ashamed of it. This 'dreamwashing' act. It is funny! Time to wake up from Osman's dream.

Since the very first day of his arrival here, he was imprisoned. Tried to break from all restriction. Constantly he would try. Escape but at the end his short breath would push him back. One attempt after the other, he just simply ended up broken. He actually died. Can not claim I am happy or sad because I just block it. Do not want to remember anything that would make me emotional. It is better this way. We will all die and that's a fact. Young or old, we will die. So just accept it and let it pass. Wonder if there is a young spirit and an old spirit? Wonder what happened out there to him? Where is he now? He left his mask, but his reality is out.

Not a big fan of it. Not a big fan on technology in general. Prefer my old, broken half working cellular. What's wrong with that. I do not like BB. I think it is an ego phone. Plus it is annoying. Beeping and weeping and wining all the time. Message. Phone. MSN. Email. And what not. Pure distrubance of the soul. It gets me annoyed. Can a phone and how you deal with it tells you something about its owner. Well, sure. Like anyother thing it does say. Sure say something. Taaan... BOOOO... Taraaa... All the time. Annoying to the max. Addictive to checking and be updated. Arising to the hidden urge to be controlling. To be in full control. Nothing by-passes you anytime or anywhere. No matter where you are, you will respond and have your input and say. Complete virtual presence. Like the theatre spectator. Siting in the dark. Watching everything. Actors and play. COmmenting. Laughing and crying. Applauding for a scene well acted. Does the players see you. No. They know you are there to g

You gallop. Gallop as far and as wild as you can. Gallop with your dreams and supplications. Gallop for signs and dreams to come true. Gallop to the sky, racing your prayers to be helped by the sole creator of this universe. Gallop and then you find yourself in this space. Suddenly all the galloping and the scenes racing with it finally cascades. One after the other. All answered. Signs granted. Figuers found. Prayers answered. Dreams visualized and realised. Feelings surfaced. Hands and hearts uniting. You stop your horses. Convince your dream to now hop on to your horse and join you in a ride. You unfold your cascaded dreams and hopes and, not totally surprised, you find that it matched. So now what? You gallop together. Fast and fast. To places and valleys. Curves and mountains. Forests and caves. Forever hidden. Forever protected. Forever closed. You open one after the other. After all is said and done, it is always time to go back to downtown. Where no horses are needed. Internal

Over crab and seabass meal, we talked. Brushing through amalgam of topics. Disconnected yet smoothly connected. Deeply connected. I already cut down a promise to myself, that nothing is disconnected. I should not look at things separately. Every single thing is related. Well, this promise drove and still drives me crazy. I can not just separate and be cool about things. Deal with things on its own. Have to interconnect and in most cases over-read and with that comes the over-reacting. Over passionate. An assortment of 'over' on different level. Anyways, I am 'over' and this is who I am. Can not just be otherwise. Can not or do not want? Well, its my nature to be hot like that. What I can only tamper is my temper and over reaction. I can just be as hot as I am but be cool too. How? I have no idea. Maybe need to redefine 'indifferent'to myself. Give it a new definition to make it likable. Anyways, we choose the best sounded dished. Crab and chowder (shubra) soup,

'Et si tu crois que c`est fini Jamais C`est juste une pause, un répit Après les dangers Et si tu crois que je t`oublie Écoute 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

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

- 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

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

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 m

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. Jus

I want to write my way home. Inside. Sheltered. Protected. Cuddled. Hugged. Secure and safe. I do not want anything but settle in. Deepen my roots and my belonging. To the soil. To the land. Inside the earth hugs. Inbetween the sand and pepples. Occupy every small tiny space. Expand my roots. Deep and deeper. Wide and wider. Feel the sand's embrace. Warmth. Feel I am fully surrounded. Sinking in. Safe to let me roots relax. Safe to let my roots nourish from the soil. Nourish but not grab. Nourish because I am trusting that the soil will last. I am not running aganist time. Not running. Just stable and free.

"When a woman makes the choice to marry, to have children; in one way her life begins but in another way it stops. You build a life of details. You become a mother, a wife and you stop and stay steady so that your children can move. And when they leave they take your life of details with them. And then you're expected to move again only you don't remember what moves you because no-one has asked in so long. Not even yourself. You never in your life think that love like this can happen to you." A life of details. Stop. Steady. Move again? I would previously say No to that. A big no no. I was young and foolish. I am old and foolish. I now can see the possibility of this happening. See that this is happening. Women by nature sacrify. Idiot or idealistic, you choose, if anyone denies that. Women do sacrify for everyone. Not an absolute statment. But they do. Expected to. More important, they want to sacrify. They do it naturally, not knowing that they actually are. They kn

I do see things differently. I hear things differently. I feel things differently. I am unable to express it. Sharing it does not seem easy thing to do with except when I am totally relaxed and the surrounding permits. It does not happen much. Have to be a certain flow of events and talks. Can not just say to someone, 'hey, i want to talk about x.' Does not come to me naturally. Does not come to me at all. I do not know how to do it actually. It has to come naturally in theh conversation. Partner ready to hear. Partner willing to understand the not so 'logical' conversation, or whatever it might be. I talk. Not wanting an answer but just the security to have me continue and go on talking about what I want and feel. This what matters to me. I guess I am not looking for someone to challenge my thoughts, that are basically feeling related. Just wants someone to listen. Actively listens. It is not just anything of importance but it does say something about who I am. From th

He usually connects all the time even at those times when he can't for certain reasons. He just connects. When I needed his connection the most, and when he knew that, he does not. For whatever reason, he did not. It is funny. He always assures me that whenever I am upset or in a lonely mood, the best place is to be with him. Seems that he does not really abide by that. For whatever reason. Maybe unintentionally. Just the fact remains. He did not connect when I need him the most. I took today off from work. Did not sleep that well the other night. I worked for a while then collapsed until almost 4:30. Wokeup. Did some followup calls. I did not feel like doing anything. Did not want to stay home either. There was no food at home, and I had not eaten anything since basically yesterday, so I decided to go grab something. I went to eat sushi. Alone. I went. For a moment I thought it was closed. Not a single one at the place. Very low music. Not the norm of that place. I entered. Actual

It is tough place to be in. Very challenging. Attitude. Climate. People. Cars. Building. Culture. Energy. Space. Norms. Conscious feeling. Unconscious feeling. Climate. Weather makes you lose your temper pretty fast. Humid. Hot. Polluted. I can not take the humidity. Heat is fine with me. But I am pretty annoyed by the humid feel. On my face. Hand. Forehead. Kills me. I wake-up and I can feel the heat once out of my room. Back to the cool weather once in to my room. Back and forth. I think my system gets confused. What to do? I personally get confused starting to what I should put on. I am hot but cool now. Office is super cold but outside is super hot. What to wear? I do not know. As if I live in Egypt and my office is in Swiss. Sometimes, AC decides to stop and now you end up wearing long sleeves and AC not working, so you are basically soaking. People. Most things are not professional in dealing with them at work. If you take a professional path, you will hear your name whispered at

Have been so long since I met or connected to this friend of mine. I was going through my hotmail account when I found an email from him on the 25th of Feb 2004. He sent it to me, almost crying and in deep sadness. 10 hours from the birth of his first and only baby. He was in deep sadness and feeling so sad. 'Never felt that sad before. I am not ready for this baby when I know that I do not want to continue with her mother.' A. is my friend. R. his wife I saw couple of times. Warned him from marrying her because of many reasons. Age. Class. Education. Attitude. Lots of things. He was lost at that time. Wanted to feel loved. And she did love him. Or was impressed by him. He recognzied that and instead of trying to reveal his true self to her, he hid more and more and presented more of the stuff that dazzled her eyes. She basically married him for his money. Well, now that she is no more impressed by his money, she dropped him, and wasted his money. He even could not split from h

Never felt that lonely in so long. Really lonely. I am home alone. Room alone. Empty house. Everyone is gone somewhere. Do not know where. There is a deep sadness that is filling the house. Not sure from what. But I feel it. Feel that everyone is sad. If not sad, then heavy. Lots of wishes and dreams that are not fuilfilled or waiting for. Everyone is taking a road to partially do it. Or just ignoring it. Living day-by-day. Weekends come and you are the only one hating it. You will not be doing anything special. Becomes a reminder of your loneliness. Of your boredom. Boring life to some extent. A life with no particular purpose that you look forward to. You go wonder. From one place to another. Few friends to connect to. Everyone sinking in his own life. Happy or sad. Floating or agnoized. A life of some sort. She is in Alex hunting for her pleasure that she can not find. Not sure if she is happy. But she has lots of things to be happy with, yet, insisting to deny them all and search f

The one thing that strikes me so much. This sharp, piercing black eyes. Very obvious. Eyes that are sweeping. Grasping. Watching and checking. Silently challenging. Silently interested to know who you are. Not settled. Restless. Sad. I can see that. Recognize it and can't deny that it caught my attention. Not that I seeked it. Just knew that there was a blink of connection.

I left work to go meet him but he was late. I was initially not in the mood. Was feeling a lot of silence and sadness inside. Wanted to connect but a silence connection where I just stay not utter a word. Feeling him beside me, breathing and deep in his thoughts and process. I had no energy. Could be from work, but mainly from other things that I am searching for answers and clarification for. Anticpation that I dont like. Living in anticipation for too long drains me I guess. Even if it is not in the foreground. Just by being in the background it eats from my energy. Anyways, I went to the meeting place and knew he would be late. I parked my car outside. Sat there for sometime trying to read but I was not in the mood for that. I needed something else. I left the car, emptied my bag except from my purse and went out to walk. The golf course was getting emptied. Lessons finished and everyone is going home or whatever. It was empty. I looked around and I started walking. Was searching f

My friends in the states have been trying to make this huge gathering for our school. One after the other, it fails. So it is not only here that people miss to manage or to organize an outing. Big or small. Friends or not. Longing to meet or not. It is just a global syndrom where it is really hard to organize to get a huge group together--in here, even 2 people to meet. I am not blaming anyone, it is usually me who bailout of pre-organized, pre-announced gatherings or appointements. I would be super excited to join, but laugh at myself because I know when time comes, I wont be in the mood to meet actually. I just cant get to commit to going out. Anyways, I have been recieving all these emails from my friends announcing a kickoff for our gathering. I was excited. I didnt know my plan but I cant travel to the USA at that time because of many reasons. I wanted to go. I just remember portland when I went there couple of times. BUt why Portland. Why not anyother place. I have no idea. Anywa

Going out of Cilantro Koraba, I saw the title: Laiterie Khalifa. There stands an old dairy, milk shop in the midst of all modernized shops, and windows. Laiterie Khalifa. I stood outside. My back to the fashionable, modern yellow and lime green coffee shop, and my face towards the old milk shop, with its forever staying half french, halk egyptian name. I wondered for couple of seconds. I halted. Not sure why I did. But I just stopped and gazed. No particular feeling or line of thoughs running in my head. Just could be that I was feeling the different worlds that I stood inbetween. Not in the exact middle, but more inclined and close to the modern one. I just stood. Kept repeating the name. It was basically the first time I saw this shop in my whole life, yet, have heard of it before almost 15 years ago. I am not sure what I tried to do, but I just was in a fast pace to find out what I want. I simply at the end of the gaze, just admired the name and how its written. Tried to imagine how

My attitude to Cilantro is now totally different. After a long time of unconsciously boycotting Cilantro, I am back again. Still unconsciously. I start going there again. Now that I have upgraded my laptop and can connect wireless and hi-fi and all these hight technology, I am like one of these who enter Cilantro, open their laptop, skim the audience, check others laptops, open to CNN and find the little msn popps up, burry their faces in the screen chatting and browsing, rarely working. Anyways, I became one of those. I enter, not smiling anymore, not there to observe and enjoy myself over a coffee, stare aimless at the glass infront of me, overhear conversations, but basically to work. Believe it or not. Haal, believe it you too or not. I actually go there to work. Why? Because simply I couldn't work at work. It is so distracting. Being this manager gal, I get interrupted a lot and people pops in for questions and silly requests. So Cilantro becomes now my working destination. I

I am like a volcano in a ancient coffee island. We so describe our relation.

J-spot is very painful. It can kill you if you let yourself induldge into it. Makes you exercise your imagniation skills. Ride and gallop with horses in that area of space. In fact, you suddenly find yourself owning all the space in the world, and its solely dedicated to expand and ponder on that feeling. You imagine more things that hits right on the J-spot. Right on it. Harder and harder it strikes and you just instead of filtering these hits you welcome more and more of it. Very painful. I can hardly see any pleasure in self stimulating the J-spot. You by time feel butterflies in your stomach and a deep wish to retreat from the whole world. Why go there if you can't handle it. Well, I know lots of things to stop my self stimulation but I just can't stop imagining. Will go to extreme thinking and scenarios. I have a feeling my scenarios are right. It is logical. How can it not be done all that time? Something is not right? But why would I care? Well, I dont care for the parti

I wrote, 'love, life, laugh.' He wrote, 'life, love, laugh.' I smiled. Why did we flip the order of the first two. I immediately said, 'Ah, I chose love first because I am emotional, and you went with life first because your practical nature.' I always joke and sometimes mean it when I say that he is practical. He sure is. Apart from him being the most sensitive and considerate person, he indeed is practical. Practical in a decent sense. In a complete emotional sense. Yes, he can see the details, yet concerned with the end result and plan. I, yes, see the big picture, yet important the details are to me. I can sacrify the plan for the detail. Twist the big picture in a range; turn the big picture upside down; discard the whole picture if I have to, just to enjoy the detail. I drive my enjoyment from details. Following it. Looking through it. Playing with it. In a way that I see it not really bothering the target. The target in itself is not my mission. It is the

It was just last night that I was opening and checking the SSCH and the institute site. For some reason, I just wanted to check what was happening on the other side of the world, and with the Sufis...etc. Sounds to me like such a long long time. Something very remote. Everything changes. And people who were separate, joined forces, people who were together separated. Very funny. The world is moving into a more and more clusters of similar people, bonded by similar interests and similiarities. I wonder what gathered all these apparently different people together. What are they trying to really build? I read the language, and the words they use, and I feel as if it is coming from a distance. Very foreign to my ears these words had become. I sank down in my chair and recalled these past moments, and I cant help but smile. We are brainwash ourselves. Not something negative, but when you are very longing to something, and you hear different language and vocabulary that makes you hopeful, yo

Last thursday, was 'just like heaven.' It was all destined for us to meet. Not once per that day, but twice. Unexpected. Light. Lovely and inspiring. I was slacking home. Didn't go to work that day. Decided to take a long weekend off and just relax. Have been a rough end of year analysis and decisions. So I stayed home. He was having a meeting at the fringes of Cairo. Called. Laughing. 'I went to the wrong place. Meeting was at the office and I thought it was at smart village.' I laughed. What an air-headed. So we decided to meet miday at Cilantro, on his way to work. And we did. Just a little talk over coffee. Enjoyed every second of it. We departed only on the promise that we will meet again after he finishes work. Will pass by my house to pick me up. I agreed. I walked home. Did some silly shopping on my way. Bought a cool bag, that he didn't like that much--but everyone did. Arrived home. Crashed on bed waiting for him to call, and he did. I was planning to

Salma... who is Salma? Well, she didn't come yet. But she will be arriving on the 9th of April. Wow! You are pregnant still, however, you: Already knew she is a girl, Already gave her a name, And definetly knew her birthday. I couldn't help but feel a little sarcastic. Not from R., who seems from the first while like a sweet lady, but from our nature. Our pre-deterministic nature. Our deep need to control what we don't have or see. Invent tools, and seek guidance just to know the future. I admit, I wont like to know the gender of my baby. I won't give it a name. I won't seek to know the exact date of his birth. I will leave it all to be a surprise. A gift, from the Giver. Change in it as He likes. Name it as He likes. Shape its destiny as He likes. Bless it whichever way He chooses.

I see lots of them everywhere I go. Sometimes I sympathize. Sometimes I get so annoyed. I watch them over the course of time. One or two have been there forever. This 'rababa' man, I have been seeing for decade now. I initially used to give him something, now I literally hate him. Get so annoyed by him. Whenever he approaches me for money, I tell him to fuck off. I say that, 'Fuck off bugger.' I look into his eyes, and I just see greed and 'makr'. He is so greedy. If you know this man, look into his eyes when you put your hand in your pocket to give him money. His eyes would jump, racing your hand to the money. His eyes drip with greed and need. I urge you to take a look. In case you are interested, check 26th July street, Zamalek. The 'rababa' guy over there. If you are more interested--alif you might do that--follow him to where he lives. I am so curious to know how he lives after all these years of begging. I am not at all careful with money. I dont h

We are indeed on one. Short wave. Distorted. Responsive to any noise and any outside factors. No sense of a self sustainable mode. Too inferior to have our own station and program. Jumping at others with no plan other than to munch on what they say. We are bunch of inferior beings. Lost. Envious.

So, I can no more eat Danish blue cheese. Is this what you are telling me? Well, it is not really the matter of eating or not eating, boycotting or not, it is for me the matter of the ideology, the moving force behind it. Just to be honest, I actually like the stand the muslim are taking with economically pushing and proving their power. I like that we can stand together for a cause. Use our strength point to push our way and say 'No, we don't like what you are saying. Please, stop. Don't even apologize. Just respect our feelings when we say we don't like the damn cartoon.' Good. Fine till here. End of story. But having some extremist say, 'death to denmark. Death to don't know what' is utter naivity and stupidity. You people, your prophet was made into a 'terrorist', and you are not doing anything other than taking this cartoon into reality. DAAA. Everyone of you, of us muslims, is a prophet. Not prophet Muhammad, but the symbol of Islam. The pr

Hey you! Why are you like that.

So where is the catch here? Don't say you don't know. You see it, yet unable to take an action, this is a total different story. But you do see a pattern. You do see where the manipulation is. Your side. The other side. You see position. Stronger. Weaker. You see who needs the other more. You see the possibility of being used. You see selfishness. You see passiveness. Playing with words. Art of negotiation. You are not convinced. You smell something fishy. Words like 'hope' and 'things will change' dont really ring a bell in you, yet you pretend to be convinced. You are not convinced. You just are curious, maybe, to see what will end. You know how it will end, but still want to attend. Aren't you bored, or it is just that you are hopeful this time it will work. Well, it might work but not if you continue that way. You see what you are doing. You are putting all one hold. Everyone. Everything. All on hold. Everyone including yourself. All on hold. For what? F

This is her name. The silent girl or woman, I do not know, who I see passing by my door everyday. Silently she walks. Retreating in the way she says 'Good morning'. Alone in her world. Totally alone. No one knows who she is, or what she does. She sits in her own space. The library. A neglected place in our company that no one goes there. Hardly enter this room. She sits in there, no one know what she is doing. Just there. You know she is alive when you see her in the kitchen, bump to her in the elevator, smell her old perfume. Other than that, no one really cares about her. But the interesting part is that she seems to not care about anyone either. Kind, shy and super introvert as she might be, sad and insecure is what I see hidden inside. I personally see her shadow. Smile at her. Try to extend the rapid good morning, to 'How are you Abeer? Nice accessories.' To which she would give a fast bow with her body language, smile and then leave. She calls me 'Anaessa H.&#

A small fiery yet cute and kind. Popps up at the right moments. Yes, she is small but she is strong. Wise and very accurate. I love you. Admire you. Yes, your words said it all. What is for you will never go by you. Indeed right, Thanks, Haal

Wish that you dont worry about me. TO leave me and dont hold yourself responsible for me. Trust that you are home to me. I will always come back to you whenever I want. I dont get embaressed from you. On the contrary, I feel safe to do and say anything. I am just tired. Seriously tired. I want you to know where I am at so that I am free to do whatever I want. To even disappear if I feel like it. Disappear from you. Can I? But even that I cant do with you. I feel a continous need to be with you, connecting with you. This is a new feeling to me and thus hard. I dont want us to talk about that again, yet, dont want to talk about anything but this. It is the only time I feel so close to someone to that extent. Effortlessly. Feel safe and secured. I think I am tense because I shared a lot of who I am. Somthing I have been capturing all my life. I thought it would be the best gift in my life when time comes and I share it. But now with all the complications it is causing deep pain. Finding y

I wasn't in the mood to even talk. I waited until it was time to go and then in a blink I was out. G., called, he had just arrived from Italy after a short christmas vacation. He wanted to meet for a coffee and sushi. Don't know. I didn't feel like talking or even eating. Sushi sounded too cold for the mood I was in, plus it was freezing that day. Well, for other reasons too sushi wasn't the best suggestion. It has memories with me. He called and asked me not to do Sushi, and wait for him till he is back. I said, 'Fine, you dont have to promise thought.' Promises now have no importance to me. Doesn't mean much. 'I promise'. Promise what? Next time I will make you sign a paper to make sure I get what you are saying the right way. Anyways, I went home then walked to Cilantro. Sat there and saw my cousin, Amiee. They say she looked like me. Then people started to pop in. I wasnt in the mood for any actually, not even for G. The usual gang appeared. I di

This is not my state, but my friend's name, or what she liked to call her self on the cyber space. Stoned is my friend since, what, 15 years. Wow. That's a lot. Maybe not a lot for some but indeed a lot for me. Anyways, both of us happened to be in the same state of being recently. We didn't talk for quiet sometimes for various reasons, mainly because I was not in the mood to talk to anyone. She insisted to connect. Emailed. Smsed. Left messages. Sent songs. Everything. She wanted to talk. To tell me what's up with her, and to know what's up with me. As if she knows. Knows that we both need to share. Yes, A. it was great sharing with you. I never talked personal to anyone. Not on my personal stuff. Not even A. Hardly do I do that. Well, on that day, when I was going mad, she smsed me at the same exact moment that I needed to scream. I immediately called her. she was shocked. It had been months since she has been trying to connect and I denied her. I heard her voice