A Message from within

Ahmed Pasha street Al-Tulumbat Street Burgas Street Reside my memories. Silent memories. Wonders of a tresspasser. Dreams of a wanderer. Distant sole aspiration of an old soul. Lost in the endless search of an non existing identity. Confusion of vulgarity and elegance. Endless intersections and crosspassing. No resolution. In these houses, I have memories. Scattered ones. Whenever I passed or visited I taste the agony at some corner of the heart. As if I had lived there during a past life. I connect. Deeply and intensily. Can any connection be any other way? I love and humbly know every single stone and entrance. Every single apartment and name. Hours I spent on the stairs. Previously playing freely and later smuggling myself there. Sitting on the stairs. Reading or just visiting. The stairs. Not the people. The elevator. Not the souls. I am sure they know me and remember my smell. I am sure. I search for my marks there, but there is none. I never actually left any. On purpose. Or mayb

I opened my window today. Removed the bambo wooden curtain and looked out. It was such a nice sunny day. Quiet and a bit warm except of the chilling breeze. I looked out and whispered in a tone that I knew very dear, a light mix of sarcasm with funny tone along with a thread of wish: why dont you take it easy! Just work 3 days from home, take the money, and take things really light. Who really cares? It is quite an achievement to just secure your job and have a light time. Why the struggle and actually investing in work and what you do! Well, I promised myself, until i close the window at least, that this is my new strategy. Just do what's enough. What's wrong with that? Absolutely nothing wrong. I will at the end still take the same amount of money if not more, take the same amount of respect if not also more, and much much more, I will be loved and social and everyday I leave the door of my company, I spit on them all with a smile instead with a sour feeling. I think this is

Surprised by the deep attempt to include. Was not the norm since a while now. I immedicately changed direction from lacoste to khan. Sat upstairs after some adventures and best route manipulation. I sat there eating casata and drinking latte. It was freezing but I was warmed with the excitement of seeing the whole picture, mute but I can see it live. Masimo Dutti brown very elegant jacket. Lovely grass green light wool pullover. Orange shirt and a brown pants. Lovely colours. Good choice. Ugly light blue high collar pullover. Mediocar stone robe. Ugly blackish pants. Nice black jacket. Insignificant Insignificant. What do I get? Aggressive. very aggressive acutally. In the hand moves, the way of speaking, the face, the movement of the mouth. Very aggressive. I can tell why it is annoying to sit with or carry a conversation with. Too irritating and when talking to and start teasing as grown ups, the thing turned to a little bit of a friction and someone turning a lip inside. It's in

It is strange. The world outside is cracking, shrinking and expanding; fighting and making love; bubbling and exploding with all sorts of legal and illegal activities, while we, or I, are sitting on the stairs. The stairs of the most favourite place to my heart; a vast, old, humid yet elegant and quiet building that seeing it and entering it just makes me feel home. On the stairs. Just leaning my head to the stairs wall; looking to the servants stairs; the old black window; the 2 green elevators; the old smell; the old names of the building ranging from abaza, nasim, hachem, taymour, ratib, and some new ones. The doors are the same old, same old. Light brown with a dark brown rectangle to cover it. Very tranquil. Very solid. Very so non impressive. Yet, to me i feel my heart sank as I take the stairs from the 8th floor down to the basement. I walk slowly. One stair step at a time. Have this smile on my face as I penetrate to the walls and remember. Many things and none at the same time

17 swiss institute. Now with a new name that I saw them hanging while I am sitting on the bawab's wooden bench under the immeuble. I asked what are you hanging? 'Oh, the new name?' And what was wrong with the old one! Probably nothing and the new name also means nothing still. Apart from the famous name but who is the person to change the name of my street to without asking for our permission. It makes me snarl and think that these people have nothing better to do than just changing the names of the streets to some other name, while people still call it by the old name. SO why bother? Do they have to force us to change what we are used to? Was not it enough the detour they did to the streets? Now the removal of old names to the new ones. I wonder what's next?

Sometimes the best way to being a parent is not to be a parent for a while. This is someting I am trying to do but fail miserably everytime I attempt to. Well, I have decided since quite sometime to backoff and watch the little baby as it manuvers and find its own path and urge. With lots of struggle I let it be, and I am letting it be up to this moment. Either through being harsh, kind, available and discrete or simply over parenting. It is tough especially with personalities that are not only as controlling as mine, but also that have the minimum amount of patience and like to get things down. I am not open in general, but sadly more not open to a lot of bullshitting under any name; spoilt character or indecisiveness where choices are not an option to me but a must take or just leave. Well, I see where the baby is going. From here to there but no no, for sure not to the old habbit of biting your nails. Will attempt to make me watch while you bite your nails, I will make sure to cut y

it has been a horrible time since we did that. endless cycles of pain and tears that are sweeping through my heart. our hearts. every time we thought we are forgetting the other, it turns out that no one disconnects or forgets. as you said, 'i am so vivid inside you and you are wishing for nothing but to feel my warmth in your heart.' i do know what you mean with that ya habibi. i feel it to. I missed you so much yesterday. every time I do, I pray, maybe the long prayers will help me calm my emotions.

it has been a horrible time since we did that. endless cycles of pain and tears that are sweeping through my heart. our hearts. everytime we thought we are forgetting the other, it turns out that no one disconnects or forgets. as you said, 'i am so vivid inside you and you are wishing for nothing but to feel my warmth in your heart.' i do know what you mean with that ya habibi. i feel it to. i missed you so much yesterday. everytime i do, i pray, maybe the long prayers will help me calm my emotions.

Never thought I would go there. Ever. When my friend at DC was saying he would be working there after his PhD, I said to myself, Oh yea right! They will never take us. US? Us meaning these egyptians? Or us meaning these egyptians still? Or us meaning what?? I really dont know why I had a snarl and a sour taste in my throat! Well, when my other friend from Ecaudor told me she wanted to work there. I had the same feeling. This time I said maybe as a nun, and had an inward smile. Gave her the 'good good gesture' while wondering what the hell is this world bank that everyone is into these days. I am not into this kind of thoughts! Maria, was her name, so catholic to an annoying extent that now when I think about it, she tried to convert me at one point. Me being this naiive, open-minded, peace lover, religion-accepting girl, I encouraged people to come open up to me. Well, let me rephrase in case 'Chris' is reading. I pretend so that I get to know what you are thinking and

Felix touron. 23 rue du dessous des berges. paris 13. edition 50. 1966. Tables des matieres: Heureuse et belle Elegance La vie du couple Reflets du couple L'enfant La Maison Economie Menagere Autour de la Table Savoir-virvre Moderne La femme et le monde du travail Loisirs et vacance Guide Juridique et Pratique Presence de la Femme So this is what she has been reading alone almost 30 years ago. Alone. I found this book in her room. I have never seen it before. I opened it and in it, I found her world. Bits and pieces of little pictures she found beautiful; dried flowers, leaves and stems in the most amazing shapes and colours. Golden. Bronze. Peache and silver. Amazing. I wonder how is it like when she was siting in this room or garden alone. Suffering from bronchites, depression, and still search for books that talk about life. Elegance and beauty. How she will bend on the ground and pick a leaf or a stem. Place it inside the book. What was she thinking? 30 years ago! When the mass

Le Figaro

this is the year. the final year to be. either in or out. not in or out of anything trivial. in or out of life. LIFE. i am not exaggerating when i say that. this is a decisive year. or 6 months or whatever period this suicide mission is going to take you. want to slowly kill yourself. go ahead. many things to juggle around. well, drop some and choose your priority. work. money. self. life. or what? cant be all of them. you have tons of the second. sufficient of the first. null of the third and fourth. what a fucken life is that? pardon my language? no fucken life you got yourself. mother fucker life you search for yourself. fucked up bitch ass hole life you are putting yourself back into. wake the fuck up. well, you are on a suicide mission, no fuck will bring you back to life because there is no life to you. only paradise. well, screw paradise. there is no paradise anywhere. wake up! i know surprisingly am putting my hope in the dead person. the dull, robot, depleted, selfish, lost pe

What is it that matters? Lots of choices. Decisions. Desires. Hopes and achievements. Perplexing hopes and dreams. Consistent aspiration. Vision. Many things. Tons and loads of things. But what does really matter? I am not really sure. I am not sure anymore. Maybe I was sure but now not sure. From the many confusions I see in me and around me. Endless chase. Forever will it be endless. Not hoping that it will be better. Not optimistic. Well, does it really matter still? I guess no. Secured aganist many things with this endless chase behind money and investments. Investement after another. One huge one after the other. More and more. Eyeing for more? I do not know. What money will do if your own inner home is empty and deserted. Inside loneliness. Annoyance. Fragile peace with the existing. More fragile peace with the alternative. What is the use? Invest for what and who and why. All the "W" in the world. For the self? The self will never say enough especially with the emptine

So she finally got out of her comfort zone , or so she called it. Maybe decided to own something instead of just renting. And the inbetweens are great. The journey from renting to finally buying is great. Next step she will be leasing that. This is life I suppose. Well, I am, too, getting out of the comfort zone. I learnt a lot from the zone, but contrary to you, it will just take me to a different place and different realisation. Not that life is vast and expansive; not that being are to be trusted; not that buying is the best thing, but to something else. Not the black down side of that, but to a outer space outside all that. Life is for leasing; Emotions are for leasing; relations are for leasing. We can never buy or rent. Only Lease else you will be leased!

This series really sucks. I can not even get the humour in it or understand what on earth is this sleezy, disgusting character. I know and see it exists everywhere around me, but seeing it like that makes my heart sour. Really can not like it.

I am just craving to go to France. Sit in a cafe. Listen to french people mumbling around me. Reading newspaper. Smoking cigar or cigarette. Smell of a great espresso. Fresh air. People walking steady and fast. Clean. Determined. Knowing or thinking they know where they are going. Elegant. Civilised. Grumpy. Cheerful. Clean blonde kids. Cute brunette kids with long curley hair. Small grociery shop selling fresh fruits. Flourists selling big blossomed yellow flowers. Cloudy sky. Cracks of some sun rays. Bicylces. Active yet not corwded streets. Smell of fresh baguette and freshly baked cake and gateaux. Great cheese. I want to open my eyes in a small tiny room with big windows overlooking a small building entrance. Wooden floor. Take a fresh shower. Dress simply. Go down the small clean wooden stairs. Go out to my tiny street. Greet the annoying lady at the bakery shop. Get one fresh baguette. Go get a tiny piece of chevre. One red tomatoe. And ride my bike to a small cafe. Order coff

For some unknown raison, i decided to go shopping at carrefour, Maadi. I must have been very bored or maybe too optimistic to consciously do that. I took my car and went there. Ah, I remembered, I wanted to buy a bathroom curtain!! But again, why did i choose to go there? No clue. It was really a shameful experience. It was ramadan. Weekend. And it was crowded. The least you can say about it is that it was crowded. But this is not a big deal. Crowded places means it is good, and this means that this country is economically doing good...etc. However, there is something in our crowdeness that is really interesting. It reveals the desperation and capitalize on the worst of us. You know, get the worst out of you. Of course assume that we have any good side! Initally, people stare at your shopping cart all the time. Check out what are you got yourself. I happen to buy San Pelligrino, a sparkling water, that I am sure they mistake it as beer or alchol. So they look to it, stare and stare the

So they finally re-routing Zamalek! They have a stupid, far from brilliant plan for Zamalek to change all the street directions for some weird reason. Well, cause Jamal is living here now in this area. A weird enough reason I suppose. Not sure what does re-routing this side of zamalek with a famous person living here? No clue. As my friend told me, they want to confuse people's brain so that they dont know have time to do any harm to the guy. (Well she always says it in a very funny way that cracks me up everytime I ask the same question). I was going from crave wanting to go to Diwan the other day in my friend's car, when I realized this reshaping. Seriously, i guess it has been for a while now but I never noticed it because I dont drive in zamalek side streets. So I tried to navigate but alas we ended up going round and round and it drove all around zamalek to just reach 26 of July! I was pissed actually. Cursed and cursed. And then I realized that they simply, just simply, c

So into this huge huge extended family gathering. X's cousin got married to this guy and they lived in zamalek. Almost 2 blocks away. So! Her mother got them a real big gathering and invited everyone to come. And we did. I dont particularly enjoy family gatherings. I have to be this little cutie pie. Polite and delicate. They do think so because my presence is always light. I hardly say what I mean. I notice. Exchange looks with X and smile. Giggle. Or at time crack. I could never tell them what the hell is going in my mind. Cant trust they will spread it around and become the bad duck. So luckily I got myself a nice partner who understands me and most important thinks the same. Well, he actually observes me to make sure I am ok and not over bored. Its interesting this huge family gathering, especially those I attend to. He would tell me a year ago, and warn me againt these gatherings. I surprised him until now that I handle that gathering so damn well. That I am so loved and admir

Well well well.... Hate me or love me. Can't you do something in between? Well, they can't. Probably because I am too. Either like or dislike you. If you fall in the grey area between lik and dislike, then you will think that I am weird. I will meet you, smile, nod but hardly will stop to talk. You will feel that I am just not interested. Although I donot intentionally do that. I am just not interested. Not even realizing it until someone tells me. In fact, I dont 'dislike' per se. I just dont see you. I have no reaction. Or maybe an inner one that tells you what I think of you silently. Although again I dont really think of it at the moment. Someothers I totally know who they are inside and they are just putting on a show to sell and present themselves, and I know exactly why the hell they are doing that. At times, I enjoy just watching them with this smile! Unintentional also. Just look and space out. I swear unintentional. No biggy if I give them this little praise m

I hardly chat. When I do, I find this smile crawling into my face. Chat is interesting when you take it to 'check it out' and detect what's happening. So, 'How's ramadan doing with you this year. ?' Wrote a friend. I smiled. I so damn sure what he meant. But I said, ' SHoot!! Did it start already! I thought it was next week.' 'No no. Next week still' (yea punk) 'So, what did you mean?' 'I meant are you getting ready for it' 'How so' He knew I might not get it probably or that it totally not in my agenda, so he tried to appear less islamic to a moment. 'did you buy yamish, meat...' 'Oh no no. I dont do that. X and me eat very light food anyways. We dont cook except healthy food.' 'Good diet.' 'Oh yea' But he wont let me go like this. recap. 'So any intentions for ramadan.?' 'Yea. Probably fast' 'Only?' 'Is there anything else I should intend. Fast, pray maybe and w

So have been out of the public life for sometime. What do I mean with that? Not interested. Not interested in what's really happening around. Less and less social. Interact very little. Avoid to have talks or go into any debates or arguments. I just focused so much on being with myself and with a couple of friends that I, not particularly enjoy, but I can float with. Just a couple. Why would I seek more! Anyways. Even in that selective ones, in those selective, cool, upper scale places and attitude, i felt so damn bored. As if all words and all topics are screwed discussion. Or not particularly discussion, but mentioning and bringing it up. After a year, we talk about the same topics. More or less. I stopped even talking, I listen and mummble couple of sentences just to keep converstation going. I think I am bored inside. Nothing about anyone or anything. Just me, myself and Haal are all bored. Conclusion, we are mostly bored. Most likely confused. Certainly tired. For sure afraid

... the same mistake over and over again. I do. I never learn. I throw myself into the same situation. I do. Have to feel totally uncomfortable and totally out of place. I do. All for what? I have no idea. I keep promising myself I will never do that again. They are just not my style. Totally off my head. Not their attitude, way of life, words, social class, thinking. Nothing. As if I come from somewhere else. Different galaxy. He is weird. Even more weird than before. Totally off. 'I like your eyeglasses', she will tell him. He will answer, 'well, they are RL my dear'. I crack. I just laugh. Not sure why but it is so akward of an answer. He is annoying. All the time talks about money, money, money, plans to change this or get that. Run run run all the time. I keep commenting in a sarcastic tone if he ever managed to sit and enjoy what he has been running around doing. Oh Oh, and a roman freaken balcony to drink tea in. I asked, ' so any tea drunk there?' I need

3.5 women. Alone. 3 TVs opened. 2 laptops. 2 phone. All these devices functioning concurrently and full speed Fully concurrent. Fully fully concurrent. No communication. Zero. For how many hours? 4 hours so far and the count still going. I am sitting in the same room. Listening to S.H.I.T. on volume 14. Dolby sound. When the most vulgar song comes, it happens she likes it. Volume increases to 20. Inagurating the song with a couple of boob shaking. And back again to volume 16. Not 14. Conclusion. I lose twice. Once when the most vulgar shitiest song come. Second when the volume does not return to the very loud 14, but slowly mounts 2 levels at a time. How i feel? I feel like an idiot? I am so stoned that I cant even complain or show the slightest gesture of annoyance. I am just shocked. Really. I am so surrendering. Feel my head is dancing and shaking as if placed in the middle of her 36C boobs! Imagine a 36C boob hitting you 2 sided. Here comes the right 36C... OUPS... and here comes t

Lime disease. Ruby. Pyramids. Charlotte. Nokia. Shubra. Alex. Ayooooo. Deer meat. Pasta with vodka sauce. Expensive silverwear. Cheap napkins. Bad table manners. Huge house. Electronic gate. Palace like. Big house. Small space. Furniture. Stairs. Up. Down. Claude Monet. Monaliza. Egypt. Family. All tilted. All all picture tilted. Crystal vase. Golden plates. Crystal and golden chandelier. Mosaic glass cheap lamp. Jaquzzi. Golden tapes. Golden boarders. Huge golden candles. Emperor constantine. Electronic bathroom. Did not know how to flush. Closed the seat. Prayed no one would notice.3 days passed. My pee still there. Now I knew how to flush. Fancy clothes. Fancy watch. Fancy car. Staying all day in her PJ Expensive lotions. Channel Mademosielle. 5 bathrooms. No shower all day. Pampered girl. George the monkey all day. Spitting on me. In her underwear all day. Fake life.

Elegance is an attitude. Nothing to do with being rich or poor. High or middle or not so middle class. Beautiful or not. It is an attitude. Way of life. You can be rich, but your way of life denotes cheapness. You can be full, but your way of eating reflects a gluttony spirit and appetite. And on you go. Elegance is not something that you learn or be taught. It is either there or not. Just Elegance. Whatever this word means. Very subjective. Indeed. Observing. Watching. Checking. Small hints. Subtle one. Obvious. Hidden. I find myself, judgemental and bad bad bad as I can get, I made a twisted judgement that people I see around and interact with are not elegant. To my taste for sure, if that matters to them! They do things with an attitude that I call 'gluttony'. An expression I have been using recently. Gluttony when they order food. When they go shopping. When they go to the four seasons to eat the best grilled salmon and tuna fish. While eating sushi. While drinking the mo

Gucci. Burberry. Coach. Been browsing all the bags site for sometime now while sitting in my kitchen overlooking a nice garden; cool breeze; trees and more nice scenery. How peaceful. Noise from in the house or outside does not disturb me. I dont even notice them. I tend to really separate from everything and concentrate. Never thought I did, but people notice that and in turn i noticed it too. When I made a comment like, 'i am enjoying a quite time', my companions raised their eyebrows and think that I am mocking or being sarcastic. Then I feel embarressed because I really meant it and didnt really notice or even mind the noise. Back to LV, Gucci, BB, Coach. Why am I interested in that? Well, I love bags. Huge bags or really tiny bags that I can carry across. Not at all girlie, but rather too practical. Big bags have been the favourite type since I was young. Anything that I can drop all the things i want in: books, notes, notebook, tons of pens, change, money.. anything that

So i came to know by chance that he is driving to al-gouna this tuesday or monday. I dont know. Spending the next 4 days there. I was pissed. I am not sure why angry other than it just hit anohter nerve and another confusion in me. I have been telling you to go to alex, and you refused because it is a lot of planning. Now suddenly you tell me going to gouna. and when did you decide that, in the car when you were going to this jameela thing. how fun your relation had become. you now take fast decisions together and are so flexible. you are a great couple it seems. so in synch that when you decide to go somewhere on the run, you just do that. not only does this bothered me, but also that you were driving there. this was one thing we wanted to do together. now you are just giving away and preserving nothing to me. very practical. very annoying.

'Love is all about being alone?' I read that in a book while skimming a fancy looking booking at Diwan. Well, it might be! He said it is like the 'salt' and 'pepper' items. huh! not sure what he meant now, although I liked it when I read. I forgot the argument. Age I guess! Or maybe not really getting it. Or maybe not even interested. Just bored of these attempts to define what is or what is not love. Enough. Love is love. You be what you are or even are not and get done with it. It is not so complicated after all. It is just part of many things, not particularly a stand alone solution of some fancy sort. You love, then, excuse me, there must be a reason. And better be a good one. And if not one, which is the case always, there are tons of reasons to love someone. It is not a PPPPOOOOH FOOO feeling that just hit you in the ass, i mean face. Well I really mean ass! You better know why you love this one. Not 'love' but attracted and feeling you can 'en

Yes. And Yes! It all started like that, followed with a playful smile while sipping my mocha coffee at Costa. And everything follows. Unplanned. What I thought was going to be a solo weekend, ends in a Solo weekend with a flavour. We initially thought luxurious. The palace. A nice walk in the vast garden but for some reason we just resorted to going really 'local'. Gomrouk square. Bahari. Round and round in the poor, little, snack streets of alex. Watching in a quick crash tour of the alexandria we talked about and wished to explore but never did. In the car. Not even opening the window to smell the locations we are touring, we passed from one alley to another. One quartier to another. Names of saints, places, street names, old buildings, amazing balconies, nice old doors, and splendid architecture cocktailed from english to french to greek. Really good. But again. We were tourists. In the car. Not even able to exchange looks with others. It was nice though. Apart from my '

My life is a mess. The finale statment to a running thought. I am scared. Not sure what to respond to that. 'No. Your life is not a mess.'

So you ate grilled hamour yesterday night with H. and Q. Well, bon appetite. It sure shows on you. Well, the least I could say about you that night is that you were the cutest kid ever. Not only because of the Hamour but all through the day I felt like I am your mother. Very cute. Sweet kid. Obedient at times and naughty at others. In all cases adorable. I just loved you. As always. For the sake of argument, will you really sleep if I asked you to spoil me? I hope not. In fact I am sure not. Neither will I do, nor will you. And I will never stop caring. Never. The only difference is that I wont have to check on you like I do now. I will be glued to you. Have my surveillance and security measures on RED that I wont need to check on you and give you the liberty to act as you like. Control freak as I am. Protective as I am always. You will never be saved from me. Be ready. After all what I said, I am angry at you. A little. I intend to forget you today. Just sent you a message to remind y

Under Tuscany Sun I woke up this morning so missing you. Before I slept I followed A. advice of visualizing, or as we playfully say, 'bisualize'. I did bisualize you. In my hug. Just both of us resting calmly. I missed you so much. I put my hand on the cold wall next to me and called your name. I wished you heard me and remembered me that night. felt my deep longing to you. We did not talk that day at all. I am sure this kills me. So this morning, I dressed good. A bit manish. White linen shirt that you love. Brown pants and shoes. I went to get my coffee, or what you taught me, hot choclait. On my way there, the weather was absolutely amazing. Looked to the sky and said, 'good morning.I wish you were with me.' I talked to myself and realized that you and my brother like to sit in the coffee shop's terrace while i prefer the inside window seat. Both of you said, 'fresh air.' I dont like the pollution and the humidity. I realized that I always dress light eve

This is the first day in the new cycle of our conscious decision. How slow it passed. Indeed very. Yesterday we talked for 2 hours. I did not want to hangup. I keep feeling my heart sinking when my mind tells me that we have to hangup for any reason. Clock Ticking reasons. As if this voice of yours make me so vivid and so happy. I just miss connecting with you. I really do. I keep having my cell in my pocket. Every time it purrs, I say it is not you. Just to be happy when I see your name. Today the weather is amazing. Amazing ya habibi. Just the way we would have liked it to do one of our little long walks or close sits. Hand in hand. Embracing your arm and listening to you. Eating and chatting. Laughing. Giggling or even fighting. Who cares. I don't for sure. I felt so much how I am missing you. I was looking a bit good today. Manish to some degree with a brown new pants. White shirt. No makeup. High thick heels. I look good but where are you to see that. I feel depressed. I walke

I never heard of this book until H. got it for me from Maadi. He just liked the cover and the title. From the first glimpse on the cover page he knew I would like it. I was thrilled with it in fact. It had this cover page of a woman who sorta looks like me. Not particularly features wise, but this look of old rustic authentic face of a young sophisticated woman. An elegant ear-ring connected to a sad and at the same time curious look. Sad indeed. Curious for sure. That is me. Or how I think of myself. Sad and curious. Curious and sad. Not sure which comes first. But both exists and both exchange places. Both co-exist. When they both decide to leave me, I become lost. Really lost. Clumsy. Not grounded. They are what attracted H. to me since our school days. What re-attracted him to me after 7 years of us each setting sails to opposite direction. More than a 15 month since we united again. I read the book. It is a novel. I hardly read novels. Hardly did since college when we had to write

I woke up this morning so conscious. Silent. I stayed in bed for 2 hours just reading 'the book of secrets'. Hopping to any page and just read whatever it there. This morning it was about 'STOP'. How to just stop yourself from doing whatever or feeling whatever. Without even trying to analyze or convince yourself of a reason to stop. It seems that this sudden stop is what creates the gap between who you are not and who you really are. Redirect the energy and reuse it in a different form. I dragged myself. Took a boiling hot shower. Put my favourite lotion and put on my jeans, boats, blouse and pullover. I went to the kitchen. Made a cup of tea and milk. SanPallegrino with lemon. A cheese sandwitch. Music. Took the book with me and sat in the kitchen reading. It was cold and I could see a greyish sky. Was nice actually. I sat there for an hour. I liked the idea of being alone in the kitchen. Warm and cozy. Very little if no noise at all. Was good. I felt better and decid

Roaming yesterday since I am back to Egypt. Oh, have been away actually for sometime. I went to 'Metro' supermarket. A small one. So close to Cilantro. I had this awe look on my face when I for the first time mapped its proximity to Cilantro. For an unknown reason, i always thought Metro and Cilantro are so far away. When I realized that they are just around the corner from each other, i was like: 'oh stupid.' Only now I got it. Funny. So I entered there. A really tiny squeezed metro. Everything is so packed and there is no place to browse and shop. I could not walk around between the shelves. I was not really looking for anything. In fact I was. I was looking for books and a magazine, but this Metro did not have any. But I still browsed. Round and round. More and more turns I took trying to really buy anything. I did. I bought sweet onions and sweet cucumber. Nostaligic. First time to buy it for myself. First time since a long time now to shop for myself. Been a while.

You cannot go. If you are in a love relationship, you cannot go. If you love someone in this group, then you forget the whole crowd; only one face remains. Really, you do not see anyone else, you see only one face. All the others are there, but they are subliminal -- just on the periphery of your consciousness. They are NOT. They are just shadows; only one face remains. If you love someone then only that face remains, so you cannot move. Do not go to another object, remain with one. Remain with a roseflower or remain with a beloved's face. Remain there loving, flowing, with just one heart, with the feeling of, "What can I do to make the loved one happier, blissful?" And when this is the case you are absent, not concerned with yourself at all, not selfish, not thinking in terms of your pleasure, your gratification. You have forgotten yourself completely, and you are just thinking in terms of the other. The other has become the center of your love; your consciousness is flo

- 3 L in 1 - 5 C consolidated - Survillance Dropped - 120 - Re Vs. Pro - H2O/ GMor/ - Included?! - Bone - Dandy/ Coquette - Grand Hayyatt - 14th of July - Dilute - 45 Metcalf