Tuesday, December 15, 2009

The soundtrack of my life

When I wake up early in the morning,
Lift my head, I'm still yawning
When I'm in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float up stream

Please don't wake me, no
don't shake me
Leave me where I am
I'm only sleeping

Everybody seems to think I'm lazy
I don't mind, I think they're crazy
Running everywhere at such a speed
Till they find, there's no need

Please don't spoil my day
I'm miles away
And after all
I'm only sleeping

Keeping an eye on the world going by my window
Taking my time

Lying there and staring at the ceiling
Waiting for a sleepy feeling

Please don't spoil my day
I'm miles away
And after all
I'm only sleeping

Keeping an eye on the world going by my window
Taking my time

When I wake up early in the morning,
Lift my head, I'm still yawning
When I'm in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float up stream

Please don't wake me, no
don't shake me
Leave me where I am
I'm only sleeping

I'm only sleeping- the beatles

Friday, October 30, 2009

How can one....
keep up with studies, go all the way to kattameya every single day, freelance for a magazine, have a social life, regularly wax hair, do all those family obligations, read, write and have a moment to relax and not look like a zombie by the end of the week....

how do people do it?

Friday, September 18, 2009

yesterday I found woman in her late thirties or even early forties jogging and wearing a T-shirt that says "I love cute boys". Seriously? It should've had "child molester" on the back.

the irony

the only good and healthy relationship that I've been in my whole life, is the only one that didn't devastate me when it ended...

Yesterday I told my friend that I want a new experience, not neccasarily guy related, actually I don't want a guy related one.
I want to travel, I want to do something so very unexpected.
When I was a kid I always wrote stories about this girl who prayed for an adventure before sleep everynight. And she did get her share of adventure, I on the other hand, did not.
My friend's sister is on a oneyear study abroad program in Japan and as much as I was so excited and even gave her websites to study hiragana and katagana, something inside me was asking: "why wasnt that me? Im the onle who always wanted to go to japan."

I feel I'm stuck in a major I don't like and in a life that I want to get away from.

I want to go somwhere and I want to break the pattern that Im afraid I would be stuck into.
It's my biggest fear lately

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

why is the ka3ba called beit alla el haram? Not only is it halal but holy.

In my imagination I'm funnier, wittier, more confident and stronger.
When I make up scenarious in my head I am that person. I'm still me, talk like me and act like me but I'm the version of me that I still can't be.

I miss being in my glasshouse, now I have one part outside and the other inside. It's confusing because I'm not really standing anywhere.

Friday, June 12, 2009

why does everyone try to enforce his own worldview upon me?
and nobody really asks me what I actually want
so 'advocate of promiscuity' wants me to drop the boyfriend and have fun.
"let go and have fun," she says "it's been going on for a long time anyways."

How could someone love two completly different people in one lifetime?

"everytime we talk again I feel that you grew since the previous time"
"well you knew me when I first entered university. I was very young."

and then I got 'the look' repeatedly

why am I getting more attention than I'm asking for?
Yesterday I realized how I left bits of me in places I forgot

it's hard to handle loving someone who doesn't love you back
but it's even harder to receive sentimentalities you can't give back

I don't know what's happening

Friday, June 5, 2009

final decision

I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I know there's something but I can't really trace it or link it to anything. I sat on the balcony for an hour or so, just staring ahead, like I used to do. I'm tired of going here and there all day long. I miss solitude.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

costume party

so I was thinking charlie chaplin
or with my boyfriend (pimp and prostitute)
me being the pimp hehe
any ideas?

Friday, May 1, 2009


I really hope it would work this time.
I'm more calculative than ever before
I really really do

Thursday, April 23, 2009


You always realize that you made the wrong ones a little bit too late, hesitation might be called sane or wise, but I always prefer doing rash actions, they're the ones I still do not regret, hesitation makes you think and thinking gets you to doubt and then you prefer staying where you are
I regret many things, but I don't care I'll make the best of what's here... at least for now...


some moments resonate within you....
they leave an aftertaste
and sometimes it's so sweet and stays for days
I still feel his fingers on my skin
his breath on my neck
his hearbeats against my cheeks
it's like the moment doesn't instantly go away the second it's over
it leaves a mark on you
that fades away very slowly

"A butterfly fluttered it's wings in a wind thick with the smell of seaweed. His dry lips felt the touch of the butterfly for the briefest instant, yet the wisp of the wing dust still shone on his lips years later."
Rashomon and other stories by Aktugawa Rynsuke


It's there looming above me
and thinking about it, it sort of become the story of my life
it hurts
but I don't mind
everything is just a phase
i'm starting to accept that fact
i'm not even into japan that much anymore


I know where my passion lies
I feel it sometimes somewhere within
but it comes in sudden outbursts
little glimpses of something glowing within


I find it hard to connect with anyone
or to open up
but I don't mind
I will have fun
and spend my life
endlessly searching
for that thing
that I will never find

Friday, April 17, 2009

Some moments, even in the most normal of settings seem very unreal
almost like a dream
like a stroke of a magical paintbrush
on a photograph of an ordinary moment

suddenly the flat colors are accentuated
and you can almost see the figures moving

funny thing is that you stumble upon them
sometimes even by mistake
you'd love to repeat them over and over again
but like an overused film reel
it dissapates
like a song on repeat
it loses the feelings it released
the first time
the rainbow colored fog
slowly evaporates
into thin air
and you see everything clearly
it isn't neccesarily ugly
it's just


Wednesday, April 1, 2009

some days i just hate modernity, technology and the city life
I want to go back in time
waaay back

Thursday, March 19, 2009

March 18th 2009 proved to me that I should never say "I can't" or "I give up"

Saturday, March 14, 2009

today I overcame two fears
and tomorrow I'd hopefully overcome another
In the novel the Bell Jar, the narrator said at one instance, that you could get away with almost anything if you are confident enough. She was describing the way a poet dressed and ate at a very fancy hotel in the most confident manner, which made him not look odd.
I think that's the key
and it's hard because it's something I totally lack

but I still won't say "I can't"

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I always fell in love with illusions
and ideas of people
If I fall in love with him
it would be the first time
I fall in love with a real person


Friday, February 27, 2009

In what language

In what language to write?
That's a question that's been haunting me for a while now.
I know three languages fairly well, Arabic, my native language, my mother tongue and the language that comes out easiest, there's always some english inserted in between when I speak, but I believe its the language I can speak best, at least the colloquial one.
Then there's german, a language I've been taught in school for 13 years, I'm supposed to be good at it, since I've been taught all sciences, maths, history, geography and all the other subjects in that language. But I'm not good at it and have a deep disliking to the language, maybe it has a link to my disliking to my school. I try to read german literature in german, but this task is always excrutiating. It feels more like a chore than pleasure, and it's a shame to know the lanuage of Thomass Mann and Kafka and read them in english instead of German. I read German very slowly. I used to be good at german, and I was one of the good ones in class but that was back then, in my primary and secondary years of school.
Then comes English, a language, I've been taught since grade 5, and its quite ironic that it's the language I can best express myself with in writing.
I don't think that I mastered any of those languages, and it makes me wonder, if I ever intend to publish a novel or any sort of literary work, in what language would it be?
If I write it in English, a language that I usually write in lately, since I'm studying Journalism in English and practiced my writing skills in that language, I don't think it would sound truthful, since my daily life is not usually in English.
So should I write in arabic then?
When I was a kid I wrote one page stories in arabic, I found a few of them some time ago, I also had attempts in German and I even remember that I once gave a teacher a short story in German to correct, she corrected it gramattically but never commetented on the fact that I attempted writing a story, and she also hated me until the day I graduated, the reason for that is beyond me, but that's not the issue here.
So I wrote in arabic as a kid, but that was a long time ago. The problem with arabic, and this is a problem I know many are facing is the split between the colloquial and fusha, we speak one language, but then read and write in another. Would writing in fusha capture our daily lives and who we are and our identities? To some extent it would but not entirely, since we never speak that way, sometimes when I use fusha words people make fun of me. We have become alienated from that language, the language that holds layers of our history is not relatable to the contempoary Egyptian anymore.
So should I write in colloquial arabic?
I am totally against that. I personally think that colloquial arabic in writing looks cheap and is not beautiful nor poetic. I wrote for a magaizne in colloquial arabic some years ago, but I stopped writing for it for what I wrote was never my writing, and never captured my essense and it always, at least to me, felt cheap.
For instance I would never want to use words as neek or bedan in my works even if they are commonly used, the way they sound is unappealing, and I'm not only talking about swear words, the way people talk in general or better said how youths talk. Using words like 'fakes' for instance, I don't have other words on top of my head, but the usage of these words repells me a bit, even if I sometimes use such words, it just grows on you in a way. Even if it writing them captures reality I would rather not.
Colloquial arabic would not have a lasting literary value and I know it's easier and more relatable but I don't think that works written in colloquial are timeless.
I've noticed, however, that many contemporary arabic works are written in fusha and have dialogues written in our common language. I believe that's the best approach but it's easier said than done.
First of all, internal monlogues have to be taken into consideration, in what language should they be written?
Let's say the author decides to write the internal monlogues in colloquial, so what if a novel is written in a first person narrative, would the whole work be written in colloquial? And if it would then we're back where we started. So many questions arise.
Secondly, in our daily lives, and I'm talking here about the upper class in society, english is mingled with arabic, like an entagled thread and it's hard to disconnect the languages from one another. Actually, sometimes English is spoken more than arabic. Some parents only talk to their children in English, Frensh or, though rarely, German, depending on the education they're receiving.
I was at a press conference about a month ago and I met a British guy who was learning arabic. He was learning fusha, and told me that he can never communicate with Egyptians, since they never use that language. He also commented that English is everywhere to be seen on street signs, in daily conversations, in commercials, magazines, and the list goes on.
He asked me why I think that is, I told him it might be due to the british collonialism that lasted for a hundred years. He told me it was a long time ago. I don't really agree with him, since I believe that everything that happens has a lasting impact, not only in history. If you take the life of a person, every encounter the person faces impacts the person in a way, even if its done unconciously, my reactions to incidents I'm subjected to are related to my history and what I've encountered so far, and though I'm mostly unconcious of it, if I sit back and analyze it, I realize that my encounters and experiences in life have a huge significance on these reactions.
But though I disagreed with his argument, he still said something that I think does make a lot of sense and could also be another reason for the spread of the english language.
He said that maybe Egyptian youths relate more to that lifestyle, or better said appeal more to the American or Eurpean lifestyle, since it has less constraits (at least that's how it appears to be). This might be a big part of it, and another reason why there is an identity crisis among youths. He also pointed out that maybe due to the tourism, English is widely used, to act as a bridge, since its also a universal language, but I don't really agree since you don't find english in many cities that have many tourists. I remember in Praque, the Chechzs didn't know any other language, and I also hear that the Japanese don't talk to English and whoever wants to live in Japan has to learn the language first.
A language is a carrier of culture, as said by Ngugi wa Thiong'o in his essay 'decolonising the mind'. But what if, you are against many of the cultural norms surrounding you, and what if you don't relate to your culture? Do you write in another language?
I know that many Egyptians appeal to western cultures because it's 'cooler', but I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about people who are born in a culture and do not conform to its norms, a person who questions the base of these thoughts, a person who questions religion, which is one of the most dominant factors of culture, a person who doesn't believe that a girl's chasitity is the most valuable thing a girl could have.
But then again, putting that in mind, these cultural norms, do affect a person living there one way or another, even if someone questions these norms one has to deal with the culture one is surrounded by it. Even if one doesn't conform, the mere fact of non conforming creates an inner struggle and thus makes the person living inside that culture affected; being an outsider still makes you part of a culture, an outsider of a culture, but there is a direct affect, so basically what I'm trying to say is to live somewhere, its roots will be embedded inside of you.
So back to language and its relation to culture.
Ngugi says: "The choice of language and the use to which language is put is central to a people's definition of themselves in relation to their natural and social enviroment, indeed in relation to the entire universe."
He also says: "Unforunately writers who should have been mapping paths out of that linguistic encirclement of their continent also came to be defined and to define themselves in terms of the languages of imperialist imposition. Even at their most radical and pro-African position in their sentiments and articulation of problems they still took it as axiomatic that the renaissance of African cultures lay in the languages of Europe."
So are African languages being eradicated?
and would it be our choice to eradicate our language?
Is it done conciously?
and I'm talking about Arabic here in specific, do we conciously let go of the lanuage.
Now to be more specific, Arabic in Egypt, why do I sometimes feel that the language is looked down upon in the upper class, and why are the best schools in Egypt international and foreign schools.
I remember this one time I was discussing with friends of mine the languages we read in.
We were all Egyptians but all of them either attended international schools or lived abroad their whole lives. I was the only one who could read in Arabic.
Though I do consider my fusha arabic better than many others I deal with, I know for sure its not good at all and to some, it might actually sound childish.
But do we blame ourselves for not mastering our language?
It is hard and not used in our daily lives, and also, education wise, I don't think I received the best education in that language, yes, we did get the syllaby of the public schools' arabic, but we only had to pass it in school, no great emphasis was put on it.
And another point is also that the way it was taught was very unappealing compared to how other subjects were taught, not that any subject was appealing to me, but at least, in German class for instance, we analyzed works, we wrote essays and most importantly we thought. In arabic we had to memorize everything which led to our indifference and dislike to the languge, it was for us, the boring thing that we wanted to run away from and another thing, I do remember liking some of the poetry and short stories taught in the curriculum, especially in high school, but they were taught in a manner, where any sane person can quite want to learn it. We were told what the metaphors meant and we were told what to write, there were model answers for everything and whoever strays from that model answer is wrong, just how this society functions.
So still, even if the way we were taught our language wasn't appealing, would writing in another language make up for the lack of our own education in our language?
While writing in English I always feel that I'm cheating myself, that this is not really me. When I write about my utmost feelings I feel that its sincere even if its written in English, but when I try to write a story with social interaction I always feel that it's supposed to be written in arabic, though like I said there is a lot of English in social interactions.
Ngugi quotes Chinua Achebe, a Nigerian author:
"Is it right that a man should abandon his mother tongue for someone else's? It looks like a dreadful betrayal and produces a guilty feeling. But for me there is no ther choice. I have been given the language and I intend to use it."
Another reason why in words I could express myself better in English is due to the fact that I mostly read in English, even translated works.
The only arabic I read are the works orginally written in arabic.
Reading makes writing progress and that is a fact.
So should I read any translated work in arabic, and how about works orginally written in frensh or spansih? English would express them a lot better, since they're all Euopean.
So how about Japanese? Since I've been reading Japanese literature lately?
Anyway, whether I want to read them in arabic or not is not a question, it's a matter of availibility, and most of the time, English translations are the ones available, but even if the arabic ones were available, I would still get the English translations.
A last point that I want to consider is that. What does literature say about a culture?
And should literature express the social and political problems of a certain time? And if it does, and it surely does, I personally don't it when a story takes place somewhere different than where the author resides or is subjected to, or when an author writes about a different time in history, but that's only my opinion since I believe there is literature for every region to express the sentimetns pf this region and for every time, so that the literature for each era or century can say something about that time. However, I still believe that they should contain timeless concepts about human nature that could be related to in any time, which is one reason why I belive many of the contemporary authors' work will not be timeless, because they write about the problems of our age and the hear and now, without digging in the charachters' psychology, but that is only my opinion.
So if I do belive that literature should somehow mirror the culture, how can I define the culture I'm living in. How can I define Egypt?
There seems to be two Egyptians. The upper class, who are taught in foreign languages and somehow look down upon their mother tongue and the lower class Egyptians who do not receive such education and therefore only know arabic.
And both of them are intermingled daily and both of them are Egyptians, but which of them express Egypt more?
In European countries, the gap between poor and rich never cause any gap in the way one thinks, one's culture. But in Egypt there seems to be more than one culture and as much as I am for diversity, there has to be some unity between Egyptians and this could never be realized except through a common education and it is a far off dream, so if nothing can be changed, thinking about me as an Egyptian and where I stand in society, what is my culture and in what language should I write to express it best?
I still don't know
it's a hard question

Monday, February 16, 2009

I always listen to sad songs
even when I'm happy
I always listen to sad songs

"When I first met you I felt that we'd get to know each other better."
"I felt the same way."

"when you start slashing your wrist, don't come crying to me. I'll only tell you I told you so."
"but I'm happy."
"which is the more reason you should end it."

"it's really hard to find someone compatible to you"
"I know"
"there's the intellectual compatibility"
"the emtional compatibility"
"the physical compatibility"
"and there's the social compatibility"
"it really sucks"

"I just want to see you for once in a normal relationship"

"you know you're very stupid. You don't know how to enjoy things. You could just enjoy it and not look back when it ends, but you like to dwell. You always dwell. I get over people in two weeks."
"well, we're different people and we're made differently."

it's funny how, I always give out the sad impression
I think for an outsider, I'd really look sad
since I tend to prefer keeping to myself
since I'm still somehow silent
and always always walk looking on the floor
I wear lots of blacks,
not all the time but most of the time
except for my occasional cheerful hyper moments
i'm still the quiet person i've become

noone will notice that I really am happy with my life in general
why do I give out this sad vibe?
I think it goes back to my contemplative mood I'm always in
my friend today thought I was down everytime I got lost in thoughts
but I always get lost in thoughts, that's what he doesn't understand

I think. Many years from now I'll look back at this time in my life and smile
I'll think of how young and free (well not really) I was
and how things were spontanous in a way
I'll remember the exctiement of moments I have
and my youtful spirit
I'll smile
I know I would

memories become rusty by time
many details are lost on the way
sometimes I get scared of losing all these memories

summer 2001 was one of the best summers of my life
I always remember it with a smile
and always remember how young and careless I was
I look back, and see how many of us, drifted apart and changed
how many life changing events happened to our lives
how some people are not here anymore
it feels so distant
like a shing star far away
but I wasn't really happy in summer 2001
I was obssessed about my one sided love
and was convinced that this is the harshed pain I could experience
now I laugh at myself
and sometimes smile
at that innonce
sometimes I yearn for such innocence

it gets lots somewhere

I still listen to sad songs
but I'm happy

Saturday, February 7, 2009

It's funny how every single person sees me in a completly different light
there are so many 'me's out there
or at least ideas of me
it's funny how you think you're just you
and realize that there are actually thousands of you in people's heads
so many version versions of you
maybe some people notice one detail about me and overlook another
or maybe some people gather my reactions n differnt situations they saw and accordingly put together an idea of me
what's really humiliating about embarassing moments is the fact that this moment would be registered in the minds of its witnesses
it's intimidating knowing there are so many ideas of me out there
but then again I ask myself so which is really me?
since they're all half truths
is it my perception of me?
but it still can't be accurate
since self perceptions are always skwed and distorted
or maybe the me that I know is there lurking within but am scared to make peace with it
or accept its excitence
or maybe its the me that I like and enjoy talking to
or maybe it's in the whole combination

Monday, January 26, 2009

she was with me in class
we were friends for a year or so
she was my 'sports buddy'
I could never imagine her liking a guy
I remember this one, who used to call her all the time
they played football together, I thought it was rather strange how she never told me about a guy she likes,
but she always talked about a female friend of hers in the most romatic way
she used to make her little hand made gifts, and once she even showed me a video she made for her,
when we graduated we ceased to be friends
once I was in the club, going back to my car, it was parked in a dark area
I saw a car, with two girls inside
they were just talking, but I found it strange that they'd park a car and sit and talk in a dark corner
I looked closely and I realized that it was my friend inside with another girl
she said hi and we talked for a while
A few weeks ago I was talking with a friend, and she told me she suspects that this girl is a lesbian
I asked her why she thinks so
she told me that she saw her at the movies with a girl, she was laughing and putting her hand on her thighs, and then at the intermission, she kept asking the girl if she needs anything, and asked repeatedly when the girl declined.
I told the friend, the one I was talking to, that she actually might be lesbian, but she'll never admit it to herself or her family, and eventually she might get married and feel trapped forever, since she'd consider it the greatest sin of all
then I pondered a little bit
the last time I talked to her, back at school, I knew she would have thought it was the greatest sin of all, she wasn't extra religious, but I'm sure she would've been against that
but maybe she's changed, I have no idea what her religious beliefs are at the moment
I know I've changed a lot since school days, so who knows
if she were lesbian I'd feel sorry for her, since she'd be entraped forever

A few days ago, a semi-friend made this crude remark on a picture of Ellen and Portia de Rossi, I asked her why she thought it was disgusting.
She got angry at me "don't give your I'm so open-minded shit! It's ok to be tolerant but you have to have your own opinions"
"well, my opinion is that I'm for gays and lesbians"
"I don't believe you. What of your sister marries a woman, would you be happy about that?"
"She wouldn't"
"Let's say she would."
"my sister is uptight, and even if she wasn't, she could never get married to a woman here in Egypt!"
"Well , ASSUMING it was ok. Hypothetically speaking."
"I wouldn't mind, I'll be happy for her if that's what she wants."
"you wouldn't you be boiling inside?" another one asked
"no," I replied
They started telling me that I'm a liar and that I would actually get angry if I was in that situation.

I explained that sometimes, some people are born in a certain way and they feel entraped in their body, "what if a woman has no desire for men, what if she's built that way or vise versa?"
"God would never create someone like that."
"How would you know, just because you're into men doesn't have to mean that ever female specie should be born that way."
"la2 fee nas beystahbelo," (the wouldn't you be boiling) girl said
"I could understand if they were molested as a child," the first one said
"it doesn't have to be that way, why do people always assume that gays or lesbians were molested as kids? I mean everything that happens to a person, ye2ollo asl he was abused as a child. I might actually believe that some people would quite simply be born that way."
Damn you Opera, Dr Phil and Al Aswany if I might add.
and then it came
"yeah but then it would be a disease that needs treatment."
"here we go again," I thought
"they were born that way, why should you have to call it a disease?"
"it's like being a disabled person."
I'm no psychologist, I' not an expert and I'm no doctor so I don't have logical proof or evidence to stand by my point
"look," I said "anatomically speaking, it makes more sense tab3an that a penis would enter a vagina. But I still don't feel it's a disease, I can't explain it and I don't even have proof, maybe you're right, but I still am OK with the concept."

I don't know why, but I really would feel sorry for homo sexuals in Egypt

I remember once a conversation I had with two friends a very long time ago
"I can never understand the physical aspect of lesbianism" they were saying "but I would totally understand it from an emtional point of view, girls understand each other more."
I was totally against what they were saying
I actually I see it the other way round.
I can imagine being attracted to a girl, physically attracted but I can never be in a relatioship with one
too much drama and estrogen
la2 tab3an I need a man to be in a relationship with
I can count a few girls I've actually been attracted to
I don't consider myself lesbian though
not at all

I don't remember in which Almodovar film someone says that females are bisexual
I think it's in "all about my mother"
it's true though
even if it's only by 1%
there's a teeny weeny bisexual in every girl
and many girls did admit that

so anyway
I don't know what I'm going about here
I think it's really hard for homosexuals in the middle east,
allover the globe aslan
but here it's 100 times harder than anywhere

Sunday, January 25, 2009

sometimes I wonder why anyone would want to read my blog
I wouldn't read it
sometimes I get the urge to delete it and create another one and not comment on any of the blogs I usually comment on

I want a free space somewhere

and doing that would make me write even freer

I will do that soon

I guess I'm just lazy for now
In Egypt your life is never yours is it?
When you're still living at you're parents house, they expect you to be the person they want you to be since they're your parents, and pay for you and all that.

You grow up and suddenly you have obligations, and you never quite act like you would like to.

and then there's this inspective society; where people shake their in disapproval over every person's 'wrong' behaviour

When the two girls were murdered, the media did nothing but comment on the girls' morality and behaviour, two girls got MURDERED and that's the only thing you can think of!!!
Who cares what they did in their lives, they were murdered!

My sister always tells me to suck it up, since I have nowhere out.
but why should I, this my life and only mine!!

why is it, that people here are not 'just the person himself', why is always looked upon that the person is his family.

A friend told me, that it's somewhat true, since the family does affect your behaviour, and it does matter where you come from.

I asked her, do you seriously think that I'm like anyone in my family? She then told me I'm an exception.

Another friend once told me that my family reminds her of 'The Titanic' families, I laughed to tears, she was right though

I hate the fact that parents expect their children to have the same point of views, well not all of them, of course, at least mine are like that

I hate it, when they never listen to my opinions

and then they ask me why I always think I'm right

what they can't understand that I never said I was right

I merely said it was my OPINION

oh screw it! Why am I writing this anyway?
nothing will ever change

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Last summer I travelled with friends for two weeks
came back, my parents were in italy for a week
so... here three weeks without parents
and then, just as soon as they came back, my mother had to travel to germany
she stayed for two weeks
my dad and sister stayed in Cairo
and I stayed in sahel
the day my mother actually came back, I was feeling heavy
I wanted her to stay there for a longer period
but it's all good since in sahel, you're somewhat feeling free

it was nice

my parents are travelling in two weeks
I can't wait
and I swear
if my sister blackmails me I'll chop her in little pieces and feed her to the donkeys
ok that was harsh!

my biggest fear is going from my parent's home to my husband's home
I want a phase in-between where I'll be totally on my own
and the only way I could do that is by studying abroad
my parents are actually ok with that but I don't think my father is intending to pay extra tution
maybe for my sister's masters since she's engineering, and since he payed a lot more for my tutuion

sometimes I think about all the things they sacrifice for our welfare and I think hmmm maybe I'm being too harsh, but I still feel extremly lonely at home
they all think they know me, none of them really does, my sister included
sometimes I wish they hadn't invested so much time and money for us
I feel indepted
and I really am incapable of repaying them or acting thankful
since I'm always furious and angry at them

my mother told me that she only acts that way because she loves me
I told her that her love suffocates me
It was harsh but I really felt it while saying it
I can't help saying otherwise,
it's the truth

I don't know why I just remembered this poem while writing this

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

Robert Hayden

maybe I should appreciate them more....
but I still can't
they're suffocating me
now I'm just confused
enraged beyong words!!!
yet so tranquil and mellow

two forces pushing one another from each side
and I'm caught in-between

star gazing
fire crackling
shay sokar zeyada in those little glass cups
and a chilled atmosphere

and then the image comes again
of the ongoing fight with my parents
"it's the last straw," my heart pounds hard
and I feel I want to break the first thing that comes my way

and then I breathe out again
and smell life
and try to smile
and then I started talking and laughing and forget

lately I always remind myself I'm not going to be 20 forever!
actually, I'm not going to be 20 in a month

I remind myself to celebrate my youth
and take in every experience and opportunity
and just relax and enjoy
but then I remember the fights
"but I can't fucking enjoy anything because of them, they're ruining my youth."

and then I relax again

and then I close my eyes and wish I'd go somewhere very far away

its a cycle

I lie all the time 'hell I'm not going to let her ruin my life'
she gets supsiocious because I act 'mysterious'
I become enraged and tell her even less about myself
she gets more suspicious
and it gous round
and round
and round
and round

they crossed the line repeatedly
and I will not falter
and I'll give them the silent treatment
until they finally admit that they're ruining my life

"you never talk to any of us anymore, do you think you're living in an hotel?"
"why do you want me to tell you anything about myself anyway? To ruin my life? I don't like talking to you."
"you just wish you had no family, you're ultimate dream is to live alone. isn't it."
"It is. I actually am quite sure, that we'll have a better relationship if I wasn't living in this house."



I'm not that enraged right now, because I actually had a very good day
but I still am in a way
and I keep thinking how different my life would've been if my mother wasn't so controlling

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Pain never goes away

"time heals all wounds," people say

I think it's rather "time digs pain deep inside, that we forget it exists."

it's easier though, to dig it all deep inside

we carry it all with us, from childhood pains ,to adolescene and adulthood, we walk with it everyday

that's why we feel heavier when we age

children aren't neccasarily innocent, infact many of them are not.

But they walk lighter, the baggage they carry is little

that's why we relate childhood to innocence

On certain moments pain resurfaces, and we realize that it never really went away, it was just dug deep within

but today I will smile and dig it even deeper inside

let my subconcious handle it

it's easier

Sunday, January 18, 2009

I was on my way home and I remembered that her birthday is today.
I sent her a message at 12 but I thought, I should have the bit of decency and call.
So I called her
"Happy birthday!"
"thank you Mozzzaa... where are you?"
"Oh seriously? I'm at Carlo's having my birthday, why don't you come?"
"Ummm I'm not sure... I could pass by"
"Yes do that!"

"Hey! Come outside, I'm waiting outside"
"why don't you come in?"
"well... I'd rather you come outside."
Then she saw me
"ah 7aseit enek mesh 3azwa tedkholy labsa lebs reyada"
"da mesh lebs reyada"
I looked at her in confusion.
I was wearing Jeans, white converse, a black top and a black Pullover, so yeah it's not Le Pacha type of clothes, though I sometimes go there like that at lunch, but I didn't feel like going in
and when the hell was Jeans sportswear?
anyway... that's not the point here
"so what have you been doing?"
"Well. I was at a play f west el balad" (it wasn't really west el balad)
"I don't like West el balad." "Do you mean the band?"
"No. It was in west el balad! Downtown!"
"What was it about?"
"Well it was satricial, it was interesting in a way."
"beytray2o ala hosny mobarak we keda?"
I didn't reply.
"El sara7a ana omry ma kont ba7ebo bas wallahy enharda kan kwayes fel speech!"
"huh" (I didn't know what she was talking about)
"the cease fire"
"Oh right!" (shame on you! Shame on you! well since I've been interening at this newspaper I've been following up on news every single day, and I also signed up for the google alerts thing, which really fills up my inbox, two days ago I had enough of it and I just delete them before reading anything. Everyday it's the same. Same news, different wording. Same people, same everything. I don't think I'll ever want to be a Journalist but that's a whole different issue.)
"ba3d eih!" I said
and then she laughed
"3arfa 7agat el tarya2a elly mawgooda fel magalat, tella2y masaln 7aga maktooba 3ala ma7al ghalat we keda."
it was satricial, but not in the way you're describing!
some other friends arrived, and I had to go, had to pass up on the empty hellos
so I left
"we should do something" she told me before I left
"sure. I'm on vacation."
I knew we would never do something
I always say that "I'm on vacation call me anytime."
though I know very well that this person won't bother calling and neither would I

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

I was browsing through some books in Kotob Khan and my eyes fell upon Rashomon and other stories by Aktugawa Rynsuke. I read it months ago, so I opened it and skimmed through and realized that I don't fully remember it. There's this chapter at the end that consists of numbered scraps written by him. I remember liking them months ago, but when I read them again I felt I was reading them for the first time. Reading some, my heart started pounding really fast and I felt I want to cry from the beauty of the words. I don't remember it affecting me that much the last time. The only one I still remembered was one titled 'butterfly'.
Sometimes I get this overwhelming feeling feeling when I read something of utter beauty.
He killed himself.

Today I realized that I believe in art.
I think it's the only thing I understand and relate to in this world

and I highly recommend the book

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Today started with a fit of anger, torn jeans and an angry note and ended with enourmous laughter
I was playing this game with some friends... I can't believe we spent two hours playing this game... or even more
everytime I get up to leave... my sister was melting chocolate with a friend of hers and called me to join, I also had to meet some other people, but everytime I got up, they asked a new question and I sat down again
the game is basically... would you sleep with.... or.....
but we covered every single aspect of life, from people we know to hollywood starts to cartoon characters, serial killers, politicians, Victoria Secret models and some other random people.
So here are a few ones I remember
Peter Pan or Tinkerbell?
Tamer hosny or hamaay?
Sadam or Bin Laden?
Hitler or Ghandy?
Sara Pallin or Condaleeza Rice?
Jim Morrisson or Syd Barrett?
Anthony Kiedis or Brandon Boyd?
Cow or chicken?
and hehe this hilarious guy asked... I don't remember who or the guy from paramount? (you know the guy who looks a bit like Jim Carrey and has weird hair, and appears right before the show)?
Aam Mahmoud beta3 el feteer or sa3d el soghayar?
Aam Mamoud bta3 el feteer or Abd el Raoof bta3 el Pesine?
Homer or Bart?
Homer or Peter Griffin?
Soad Hosny or Hind Rostom?
Magda or (I can't really remember, I think some egyptian actor)?
Maria or Dana?
Naguib Mahfouz or Taha Hussein?
The broom in the beauty and the beast or the three girls that chase gaston?
the wardrobe or the broom?
gaston or Aladdin?
Woolferine or Batman?
Batman or Spiderman?
Denis Nilson or Jeffery Dahmer?
Jeffery Dahmer or the clown killer?
Jefferey Dahmer or jack the ripper?
Cristian Bale or Christian Bale in American psycho?
Willy Wonka or sweeny todd? and this other guy said "el araf da we yedakhal masasat?"
Susan or Bree?
this list goes on and on and on....
it was fun
I always enjoy stupid games like that
so here's the question
who would you sleep with in any of those questions mentioned?
and you could also make up fun questions and I'd answer