Watching from a glass house

The poor unfortunate souls

2010-03-20T01:23:00.000-07:00

My favourite : "Don't underestimate the importance of the body language"

Doesn't she remind you of dubai?

2010-03-01T09:54:00.001-08:00

Now that I'm not numb anymore.....

I wish I were

The slow process of knowing and losing

2010-01-25T11:28:00.000-08:00

When meeting somebody new, it's like looking at a map of a foreign city. It takes practice to memorize all its streets and find your way in it. Every corner looks new, every restaurant around the corner, every crossing, every turn. Then you live in the city for too long and you know your way almost unconsciously; it's too familiar that you forget that you once lost your way in it. The city grows on you, it becomes part of you. The smells, the noises, everything that makes a city breathe will be imbedded within you.

Then when you leave the city, you're always afraid that by time the memory of it will get stale. That the city that you've once known so well is no longer recognizable. Would anyone believe that the Cairo of 50 years ago is the same city?

Maybe some shops have closed down and others have opened. Maybe billboards infested the streets. Maybe the streets got dirtier, the people louder, the drivers bolder.

And that is always the fear when you're about to part with someone you have come to know so well.

You wonder that maybe in many years you will meet again. You will see traces of your past somewhere inside the person, but you will no longer recognize the person.

The routes you have strove to learn so well have become clogged in your memory. And that second you realize that the person is forever lost. Sometimes it's sad, yet at other times you know you have also been unrecognizable to them and think "that's just life!"

Prior to losing you always hope that what you have transcends the mere boundaries of the physical world. That there's a much deeper connection; that of the soul, the one that could never be shattered to pieces by time.

Time would be merely an ellipsis, nothing more.

Memories are never blown away immediately. The tick of the clock eradicates them slowly, like water washing over stones. By the time their shape changes, you no longer pine for them.

"That's life!" you would say and walk away.

2010-01-22T14:08:00.000-08:00

I feel so much, yet I feel nothing at all
It may sound contradicting, but in my mind it makes perfect sense to me
I know I must be feeling so much
yet I'm perfectly numb
yet I see all these emotions circling around me
but now they are trapped inside the glasshouse and I'm just watching from the outside
Maybe I'm scared because I know that feeling too much would lead me back to the glasshouse and I'm not really sure I want to (do I?)
I reached the conclusion that I never quite write (at least with passion), without being in a sort of isolation....
and I wonder.
I'm always happy lately, cheerful. Something bad happens I frown for a few seconds and then shake it off and continue my joking around.
I don't know if I'm doing this as a defense mechanism or because nothing can touch me anymore...
Maybe I've grown a thick skin that doesn't allow anything negative to penetrate my being
yet I'm craving it
craving negativity
call me insane I don't care
I enjoy my life lately I can't deny it, I'm having fun, dyed my hair red, I don't know it seems so much has been happening. And it's fun. But only that.
and this is the problem I think.
I can't be just having fun... I try to write, nothing much comes out.
There are thoughts in my head- millions of them- but I can't quite write.

I few days ago, someone told me something that I always thought I wouldn't quite take well
I didn't feel anything
only a day later I felt something and it was so very intense
It lasted for a while, but then when the moment was gone I lost it
I crawled back into my stisfied unbearable numbness

An hour ago a delivery guy from drinkies rang the bell. I told him it's probably for the neighbours yet all I wanted to do was grab the bag shut the door drink drink drink and forget about my existance, even for a second

sometimes I confuse metaphors with reality and the reality with metaphors. And I saw him slipping away, I vivdly saw our invisible connecting strings unraveling, at least the strings of the physical life.

and then I remebered what he said again... I was swarmed with images, more likely scenarious of what will be....

We will always have a spiritual and mental connection... but is that enough, I ask.
Is it?
Is it?
Is it?

People

2010-01-19T14:06:00.000-08:00

I like people quite well
at a little distance.
I like to see them passing and passing
and going their own way,
especially if I see their aloneness alive in them.
Yet I don't want them to come near.
If they will only leave me alone
I can still have the illusion that there is room enough in the world.

by D.H. Lawrence

The soundtrack of my life

2009-12-15T13:04:00.000-08:00

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

2009-10-30T03:23:00.000-07:00

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?

2009-09-18T06:28:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-18T06:21:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-15T10:12:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-06-12T08:10:00.000-07:00

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

final decision

2009-06-05T11:38:00.000-07:00

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.

costume party

2009-05-30T06:20:00.000-07:00

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

tactics

2009-05-01T00:52:00.001-07:00

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

2009-04-23T13:30:00.000-07:00

Choices

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...

Moments

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

Endings

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

Passion

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

Connection

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

2009-04-17T09:44:00.000-07:00

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
dancing

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

real

2009-04-01T06:53:00.000-07:00

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

2009-03-19T03:04:00.000-07:00

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

2009-03-14T15:35:00.000-07:00

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
confidence
and it's hard because it's something I totally lack

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

2009-03-10T11:31:00.000-07:00

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

scary

In what language

2009-02-27T22:54:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-16T10:52:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-07T00:01:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-26T12:31:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-25T05:29:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-25T05:06:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-24T12:10:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-24T11:16:00.000-08:00

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."

blablabla

anyway

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

2009-01-20T04:47:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-18T12:36:00.000-08:00

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?"
"Zamalek"
"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."
well....
it was satricial, but not in the way you're describing!
anyway
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

2009-01-13T13:24:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-06T12:57:00.000-08:00

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

On childhood and firsts

2008-12-17T07:12:00.001-08:00

first time I encountered/understood death:

I was still in preschool and on my 'Probewoche', a week that you spend at school, so they would test your capabilities and accordingly would either accept you or not. The school was close to my mother's grandmother and everyday, when I finished my two hours of doing nothing and watching other kids play, my mother would pick me up and we'd walk to her house. She had a huge shabby, mirror at the entrance and her house reeked of dust and antiquity. One day, I was asking the teacher every five seconds if it's time to go. Angryly she grabbed my hand and took me outside to the waiting parents. It wasn't time to go yet. I saw my mother's face amid the many parents. That day we didn't walk to her house. I asked my mother for the reason behind that. My mother explained to me that she's no longer on this universe, and that she's somewhere in the sky. I didn't take death as tragic. It felt very dreamy to me, to be somewhere else.

first time I learned about god:

I remember a car and trees outside the window, but I can't fit the place or context. I would most probably guess that it was Alexandria. My garndmother's maid was with us in the car. She was young, 16 i'd say. She started working there when her father, my grandmother's cook passed away. He always made us 'Kotombotom', it's a rice filled kofta type (name made up by us) that, we, the grandchildren loved and always asked for. She still makes kotombotom until this day. She always slept over at our house when our parents when out at night and she told me the most fantastical of stories, she also read me the 'maktaba el khadra' books. I remember watching the trees and asking her

"menen beyeegy el shagar, meen 3amaloh?"

"rabena. howa elly 3amel kol haga."

"howa rabena wehesh?"

"la2 matooleesh keda ghalat rabena helw we kwayes."

I remember I couldn't quite grasp the idea yet. It was above my head.

first time I saw a penis:

I was in nursery 'Prince and Queen', and I don't know why but there was only one bathroom for girls and boys, so this one day I went in and a little naked boy was running from the teacher. She wanted to teshatafo. He had a dwindling part that I didn't have. I looked at it in amazment.

first time I got bullied on:

I was sitting in the schoolyard, in one of the sandboxes, made for kindergarten children. Everyday before recess, a teacher would come and pour water out of a bucket on the sand, to make it softer yet more firm. That way, children could mould and shape the sand to create, castles, volcanoes and miniature people. I remember, that once the water is dipped children would all gather around the sticky area and chant “Balabeezo ramla balabeezo ramla” (Balabeezo: a made up children’s word ramla: sand). That day, I was out early on recess and had reserved a space in that special Balabeezo area, which was something infrequent, because everyone ran towards that area the minute the rang bell. I spent almost an hour in the sand, or that’s how my mind remembers it to be, since time can be very deceiving in its calculations, especially when you’re a kid and still don’t wear a watch on your wrist. Very engrossed in shaping the sand with my little hands, I tried to make the most beautiful of castles. I imagined how when it’s done, princesses would enter ballroom parties, with their flowing nightgowns and sparkling diamonds covering their necks and wrists and carriages would be waiting outside, with horses as white as pure snow on a crispy morning of a winter’s day. Lost in my reverie I put my hands away and stared ahead, when suddenly two feet jumped in front of me and crushed my hard work, along with the fantasy that accompanied it.

first public humiliation:

I was in Kindergarten, going home with the bus. I wanted to pee very badly, I couldn't hold it. So I went to the woman, who sits at the front of the bus and told her that I desperatly need to pee. She told me to wait. Then the bus stopped, we had reached a girl's house. The woman took me out to a garage opening and told me to pee on the floor. I didn't know what to do, though I despertaly wanted to pee I was reluctant to take off my pants in front of the whole street. But I did.

2008-12-17T05:23:00.000-08:00

that's for you evaluna!

and yeah, I have exams and am extremly bored!

strawberry fields forever

2008-12-17T00:34:00.000-08:00

It was never one of my favourite Beatles' songs, but I loved the part of this song in 'Across the Universe' and now I listen to it all the time.
I love strawberries, lately I eat them all the time.
A few years back I had convinced myself that I'm alleric to them, whenever there's a cake with strawberries, strawberry ice cream or even real ones I decline saying "I love strawberries but sadly I'm allergic." I believed it so much that I forgot that I actually made it up. Then one day I saw those red juicy delicious things on a plate, I couldn't resist, the temptation was just too much.
And then I thought "You're not allergic! Stupid!"
and now I eat them again.
Yesterday I read 'orz be laban le shakhsein', I loved it so much. There's no link of her blog on the book, which is weird. Does she even still blog?
For those who read my blog. Does anyone have any idea how I could find her blog?

2008-12-16T09:58:00.000-08:00

some days I don't get my sister's vegetarianism.
I know I can resist meat, I can not eat meat for months even. But I can't imagine how a person would live without eating chicken!
I wonder if she ever gets chicken cravings.
I'm sure she does, but she hides it behind that vegetarianism crap facade.
sometimes I wonder how the hell we're sisters. How could I and this alien specie, come out of the same womb. Actually, I wonder how I'm parent's daughter sometime.
Actually, I question how I'm a member of my family.
Maybe I'm adopted.
hehe when I was a kid I covinced my sister that she was adopted.
"Look at us do you see any resemblance?" I told her
she believed me and went crying to my mother.
I love red nail polish
it's sexyyy
I'm typing with red nail polish and I'm liking it
today while walking and looking at my shadow I realized that my shadow is hot
heheh
I know it's stupid
it's weird that when I look in the mirror I see a disheveled, messy girl who needs to comb her hair and wear something that fits together
but my shadow looks totally different
it's hot!

it's that age now puke

2008-12-12T01:52:00.001-08:00

it's so scary that I'm turning 21 in a few months
my father told me yesterday that their friend tant I don't know who... well. actually I do know her... anyway, she has a Arees for me. I told my dad, no thanks. I told him, I can't believe you're actually asking me that. and that's how he replied "so what are you going to do with your life" or something... and the thing is he's not like that at alll I don't even know how he could utter something like that. "I'm going to live and Japan and study film that's what I'm going to do," I answered. But seriously? the same woman told my mom she has someone for me last year. What the hell. but last time I actually told my mom that I want to meet him because I wanted to experience meeting that person who's a potential spouse type of thing heheh. I knew I was going to turn it down anyway but I wanted to know how it would be like. But my sister told my mother about my hidden intentions "shofty bentek el motakhalefa 3ayza te3mel eih?" type of thing. Of course my mon wouldn't let me even though I convinced her that I actually do have the option to say no I'm not interested! so it's ok and stuff. But she kept telling me how "awlad el nas mesh le3ba" and stuff... blablabla
I'm entering that age, of the grandmothers' nagging, the parents' friends interfering and the 'sympathy' look if I don't get married within the next 5 years. It's disgusting and it's only gonna get worsr from here.

Stupid me!

2008-12-06T22:58:00.001-08:00

I do the stupidest things sometimes.
out of whim
and they're always always unthought of.
isn't it weird how you can not stand someone for more than 5 minutes
but still be fond of them
and miss them sometimes at certain instances
well I feel that
and then I act upon it
and nowww
noww I got this message of 'you told me it's better not to talk so please explain' and stuff
how can I explain this
how can I explain myself
that sometimes I get the urge to call or text someone
and I do
even if I'm not supposed to
how can I explain that it means nothing
and that it actually doesn't mean I want to talk with this person again
I think people should stop trying to analyze me
because everything I do is out of pure urge of the moment
that is why my actions are always very contadictory
anyway I'm babbling here
but I have no idea how to reply
sometimes I wonder why I am ME!
it can be really really exhausting sometimes

2008-12-02T09:10:00.000-08:00

My grandmother reads the quraan every morning. When you open the cover, if you're not cautious enough, photographs of her children and grandchildren fall down. She tells me that she protects us by keeping our photographs inside. She thinks of me a lot when during her sacred morning ritual, that's what she tells me at least. I used to be her favourite grandchild once. When she was bedridden due to an accident she's had, I was her consoling companion. I don't remember of course. I was a year old. Now I don't visit her as much. Everytime she sees me, she reminds of that month I stayed with her. Every morning, when the light starts streaming through the little space between the blinds and the widow, she pulls open every curatin in the house and tells her plants to wake up. I have to fill the house with nour rabena, she says. She tells me her plants understand and that they need to be cheered up daily or else, they'd become depressed. She phases out all the time and stares ahead, lost in her own little reverie. They tell me I remind them of her in different ways.

My grandfather eats a banana every single day after lucnh followed by a mini kitkat. He looks at the clock every 5 seconds. He only loves those who cheer for ahly, golf are engineers or related to the Rotary in any way. Everytime I go over he asks me about my grades and if I got a 1. He's still not over the fact that I graduated and that it's an A now, not 1. He lived in germany for 20 years. When I play a game of bagammon with him, I feel uneasy. I'm crappy at it but sometimes luck strikes me. He hates to lose. He never does. But I'm always uneasy. He likes to spend his summer in marbella, spain and when he's not there he does nothing but talk about it. About Fernando's Mossolito's and Picasso's pasta.

My grandmother wanted to take Sanish lessons there. He didn't want her to. He wanted her by his side, every second. He has a square shaped face, straight lips and a loud laugh.
My grandmother carries around a book of 'how to learn spanish'. When I told her I'm learning japanese she asked me, why not spanish?

I know this post is very subjective
but it's how I feel

Three things always fascinate me

2008-11-30T12:58:00.000-08:00

Memory

fragrances

and stillness

actually they're four, dreams also fascinate me

Death In Venice

2008-11-30T01:09:00.001-08:00

how can death be so poetic?

Dear Phone

2008-11-23T09:40:00.000-08:00

You've been through a lot with me, witnessed many break-ups, received so many messages of hatred and love, messages of anger and messages that just warmed me up inside, sometimes even flirty messages. You've been tossed around so many times. I'm so sorry about that. Even though you were a crappy phone, I loved you to bits. You were there when I didn't want to answer anyone's calls. You were there when I watched you for hours, waiting... waiting.... and waiting for a certain someone to call.....
you know more about me that my friends do, you know so much....
I know you might think I'm replacing you with a shiny new thing, but I really am not. It's just that you stopped vibrating and I hate all your ringtones, and you know quite well that I'm not the type who would download a ringtone and stuff. I like to keep it simple, beep once and vibration. I don't know if the new one will hold precious memories as the ones that I hold with you, but one thing is for sure...
I will miss you.
Don't hate me, I didn't abandon you. I just had to get a new one.

2008-11-17T13:51:00.000-08:00

A swarm of neurons flow in my head and produce signals and images of moments in life that mattered. To each neuron a a feeling is connected, an image chained to a feeling, both come accompanied. Like children walking hand in hand.
In a random organized procedure, images strike as flashes
A mental image affects the senses and drowns me into moments long gone
a voice or a smell appears
non-existent smells of molecules long evaporated from the universe
and I wonder
if maybe this smell still exists in a box or a cave
An image of you is nestled on one of those million neurons
it has claimed its place and sat there comfortably spreading its roots in the soil below
I'm afraid the image is destined to stay eternally
with time passing the image decays and fades
like a polaroid in reverse
A faded photograph is what remains
of you
flashes of moments undetailed
and an image of a blurry face
that's all what remains
but I'm afraid it will always stay

2008-11-14T10:23:00.000-08:00

I was using the bathroom at a friend's house, and while looking at the mirror, I realized that I prgressed so much since the last time I was there looking at the same mirror.
The last time, which was more than a year ago, it was another friend's birthday at his place. That day they all went horsebackriding, but I was too tired to go, or move or do anything. I stayed at his place and watched 'surf's up'. I rememebered how I was feeling, and at what stage I actually was back then, I looked in the mirror and smiled. That second I was very happy. From being too tired to go horsebackriding, I can go through very long days and do many things. Lately I'm having some peace of mind and I believe that I'm actually very happy. I've become more levelheaded, more stable, I think.
well I could go on and on, so much has been going through my mind, but I forgot all about it. All I know is that I am happy, the kind of happy that is internal. The kind of happy that's not easily taken away. As corny as it sounds, I really appreaciate every second now.

2008-11-11T10:37:00.000-08:00

I got intorrogated by a detective
heheh
there's always a first for everything :)

2008-11-09T12:21:00.000-08:00

why the hell does everyone keep on asking me if I'm tired and if I'm feeling ok
allll the time
why why why?
Yesterday I didn't feel tired but I heard it about 3 times...
"am I supposed to be tired?"
maybe I stopped feeling tired because I have gotten used to that feeling
it's part of me now
you know like entering a room that smells
at first you won't be able to tolerate it, but after a while you won't notice anyomore

I was complaining to my dad
"Do I look tired? I'm so sick of that"
that's what he told me
"maybe you just need to brush your hair" lol

Apathy or whatever....

2008-11-07T00:51:00.000-08:00

so Obama won...
and I don't know what else is happening in the world...
I should care right?
I'm a journalist after all...
but the thing is
I don't
I wish I would
at a certain phase of my life I wanted to start a revolution and overthrow the system... yeah adolescent dreams
I used to tell the teachers academics are crap and why the hell do need to go to school anyways?
I got a lot of Fs doing that,
I once told everyone in class not to attend, to go on a strike because they fired a teacher we all liked back then...
nobody did of course, they were cowardly... they were afraid of getting a Tadel (this warning letter you get)
ughhh
they were always so cowardly
I got three that year, but not for noble reasons, mostly for skipping classes or doing watever
I had passion back then, towards issues, I wanted to fix the world, I wanted to be a war correspondant, I wanted to make a big change
now I'm just apathetic about everything
politics, religion and even love
I'm just.... I don't care
one might think that's a depression symptom
but I don't feel depressed
I know how depression feels like
and I'm not!
so why am I like that?
I have no idea
lately I'm actually happy in my life
doing totally random things with random people
and I made japanese friends two days ago
real japanese people
how cool is that?
and egyptian friends who are as japan obsessed as I am
we're going to live there together one day heheh
yeah I know pipe dreams
but the thing is....
I feel something is missing
maybe passion for something
I don't know
and I stopped believing in love
yeah me the hopeless romantic
I mean the BIG love of my life started calling me a while ago, and then we stopped talking
and it's as if it never happened
I didn't get sad about it
only slightly angry for two days or something
actually I was bored of him and I wanted it stop way before it actually stopped
and now I'm kinda sorta dating this guy, I'm already bored of it
it was exciting for one day or something
my best friend told me maybe I need to find the right person
I don't think it will ever happen
I've become too picky
I also realized I can't ever be in a "casual" thing
It's not my thing
I don't know
I want to care about something
anything
"it's just a phase" I keep telling myself
I hope it is

Angel-A (mirror Scene)

2008-10-21T15:35:00.001-07:00

Another beautiful scene...
movie... ummm ok
but the scene
AMAZING!

2008-10-21T10:18:00.000-07:00

I hate writing academic papers!!!
for me writing a paper= going through blogs, listening to music, searching for some sources, going through more blogs, getting up to grab something to eat, sitting down, writing 30 words, watching videos on youtube, getting up, getting something to drink....
and it goes on and on...
a paper that could be written in 2 days, takes a week for me to finish...
tomorrows the due date I wrote 1200 words for my 2000-2500 word paper...
how the hell am I gonna find words?
this is so damn boring!

Blurry vision

2008-10-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

and black spots
everywhere
everywhere

* the black spots is not a metaphor... I actually see black spots all the time
is that normal?

balancing out

2008-10-19T13:45:00.000-07:00

everytime I get one part right.. another one falls back behind
I can't balance my life
and it's stressing me out!
I have to give up something from the equation because this is too much for me to handle

Lost in translation (beautiful scene)

2008-10-18T13:18:00.001-07:00

I love it when he touches her feet!!!

2 days in Paris - final scene

2008-10-17T01:53:00.001-07:00

Just watched this movie. This scene is absolutely wonderful, real, relatabale and beautiful.It is on my list of favourite scenes ever. The movie as a whole is good, it has this quirky dark humor to it, which I absolutely love. But this scene is just... the best part of the whole movie.

I absolutely love this

2008-10-17T01:32:00.000-07:00

All over Japan one hears stories of trees, which have a peculiar or beautiful shape. One pair of twisted and entwined pines is supposed to be a pair of lovers. The boy and the girl wandered far from their village and as night fell, were afraid to return and face either the displeasure of their families or the taunts of friends. All night they embraced and talked of their love, and when morning broke they had been transformed into pine trees. Another pair of pines is said to be a devoted couple who died at the same time.

Japanese Mythology- Juliet Piggot

2008-10-17T00:50:00.001-07:00

Isn't it annoying that I always wake up early no matter how late I sleep.
Even when I sleep over at friends' houses and we stay awake all night, I still wake up before everyone else. If I wasn't the daydreaming, entertainig myself type I think I would've hated waking up before anyone else. But it's ok, I don't mind it much, except for the fact that I get so tired sometimes and wish I would sleep more, but the thing is, when I'm up then I'm up.
The only time in my life when I slept for long hours was during my sickness.
I'm so busy lately, I have no time to even breathe. It's good and bad....
I'm slowly starting to know more about myself and what I want from life....
the constant question of wanting to study Journalism or not is being solved....
through reporting for the caravan I realized that I like doing long features more than news... that I like talking to people and writing about them, describing scenes, more than reporting about a problem on campus with lots of statistics. I realized that I'm a slowpaced person, who won't be able to keep up with the Journalism beat, I'm more of a magazine person.
I'm also not comptetive at all, which really doesn't fit Journalism, especially newspaper Journalism.
I was doing this story about the campus at night, and I had a photographer with me, this guy who's also a reporter asked me if I want him to help out, I told him "yeah sure why not. One more person wouldn't hurt, it will make the story more comprehensive." This girl, the photographer asked me if I don't mind sharing the byline. I told her "no not at all. I only want the story to be good." The only thing I'm competitive about is sports, which is weird because when it comes to work I'm not competetive but with recreation I'm the most competitive person there is. It should be the other way round. The director of the Caravan really believes I'd be a good Journalist one day, which makes me happy because I was so scared of sucking at the it, the first day I started.
I was also very happy yesterday.
I never write poetry, the only attempts were a long time ago at school, but I never wrote poetry ever since. When I started this creative writing course I felt really bad about my writing and I didn't even want my writings to be shared in class, since I felt that everyone is so much better than me. Especially that on the list my name was on the day that poetry is being workshoped and I never wrote poetry, always short stories or thoughts.
But I managed to write one and then all the letters I got from others in my class were positive, they said it was beautifully written. I was sooo happy and relieved. I don't suck :)
It was also written in a form, I never thought I'd write a poem in form, the form is a sestina (look it up)... when I went out of class these two girls came up to me to tell me that my poem is beautifully written. This one girl said "I felt that there was melody floating, that I was somewhere else" and that was my intention of writing it, I wanted to create a different world. That's always my intention when writing actually. I'm glad. :)
isn't it weird that girls are more drawn to girls' writings and guys are more drawn to guys' writings? Personally, even if I love the writings of many male authors or males in genral, there's something very beautiful about the way women write, or maybe it's more relatable I think.
Maybe that's why I love females singers like Sia, Alanis Morisette, Bic ringa, Tracy Chapman, K's choice.... and the like.... because I feel it more...
that of course doesn't make me like Travis or Radiohead less. I absolutely love them.
but there's something to a woman's voice that I absolutely love.

Adolescent selfconsiousness (Just when I thought I grew out of it)

2008-10-11T22:52:00.000-07:00

Wearing my new dress yesterday, the recurring thought in my head was this: I'm not going to that wedding with these fat legs of mine... why did the dress have to be short, I don't want my knees to show... his words... "your legs are fat" were hovering above my head, reminding me every second how unattractive I looked. Why do his words affect me so much, just when I thought his words can't really cause any harm, since I don't really love him that much, actually I don't love him at all. His words, were a reminder of all the times in my life, he hurt my ego, for all the times he made feel so small and worthless, and it stung, especially that my biggest 3o2da for the last three years was my legs. "It's not fat, it's muscles" I told him.... which I think is even worse, it makes me feel so very unfeminine. I started cursing him and the day I ever met him, all he brought upon me was pain and frustration in my life. From day one... or maybe not day one... I'd say week one? Yeah, from the very first week I knew him he was doing that to me.
For the whole night I was thinking of nothing but "your legs are fat"
How pathtic is that?
Even when this guy who liked me ages ago was all like... "you got much prettier with the new haircut and all" or any other similar comment... I was annoyed at anyone who commented on my looks because in my mind I was the most unattractive person there is.
That's how he makes me feel...
ever since I can remember, that's how he always made me feel...
and I wonder...
why did I ever pick up the phone the first time he called
and why did I continue doing that?
and WHY did I let him affect me
and the thing is...
I don't even like him
and no it's not defense mechanism....
so many things he said were major TURN OFFS for me...
the only thing that made him bearable to me was that past we shared together
and that's it.
Now I will go through that busy day of mine...
and I will try not to think about it
even though I know it's not possible
the damage has been done

2008-10-08T14:21:00.000-07:00

Today I was doing this interview with this guy, so when it was over he was walking me to the car and I asked him where he lived. He pointed at the building we were passing by. "My apartment is on the 12th floor, it has a really nice view of the nile." and then he said "you can come by anytime to watch the view." "ummm sure" I said. I didn't really know what to say, I thought he was just saying it as a matter of speech... it's a nice place, followed by a come by... the way people usually talk. But then he asked me if I want to go up and see the view. So I went up with him to watch the nile. It was actually nice. But then, when we went downstairs again, he told me to come by anytime I want. Is that normal? Because I really don't know. It doesn't matter. The thing is, I don't think he's interested because I looked like shit today hehhe. I was out of it, underslept, second day of period.... so... I don't know.

If I hear another person asking me "Why are you looking so lost" or "shaklek lessa nayem" I swear I'll shoot them in the head.
Yeah I know I give the 'lost' impression.... but I don't have to hear it every single second of my day!
hehe
I was once walking in university and I saw my friend's ex/boyfriend/something in between, he looked so lost. I think he gives the same impression I give.
So I laughed and told him "hey you look so lost. But don't worry, people tell me I'm like that. It's actually nice to know I'm not alone."
This guy, always thought I didn't like him, but I actually do. Once I told my friend that I want them to stay together because I like him. When she told him he said that he thought I couldn't stnad him. Which is weird, because I never did anything that expresses any dislike, but obviously I'm not friendly enough or something. He said that when I pass by him I just give him a smile and walk by, my friend, because she knows me well, said that that's how I am. I wonder how many millions think that I don't like them... just because I'm a bit... well, not anti social... but anti small talk person. hmmmm I wonder...

the annoying thing is...

2008-10-08T09:34:00.000-07:00

that the day I told myself I'm never answering your calls again...

you stopped calling

Pathetic

2008-10-06T02:20:00.000-07:00

Why did I get myself into this?
this vicious unending cycle between us,
doesn't seem to stop. Ever!
Our time together was this little magical glowing gem in my memory
its how my mind designed it to be
its how my mind wanted it to be
but now with every word you utter
a little bit of the magic is crushed
what do you want from me anyway?
you made me realize how much the brain deceives
how a fantasy can drown us in fake illusions
and it's pathetic really!
I can't even love you anymore
or feel anything towards you
towards anyone
towards anything
Once a long time ago, my insides were bursting with joy at the mere sight of you
yeah, I remember quite well how I felt at that time
I remember just by a single touch of your fingertips, my body was filled with a rush
what happened to that?
Now I tell you about some of my deepest feelings and you laugh at them jokingly
yeah, I know that that's how you are, and that's how we're like together
but not everything is a joke
and don't get me wrong
I love laughter and jokes,
but it's not funny anymore
it's old repeated and boring
we're so different
from complete different worlds
how did I never notice that before
you think you're the best thing that happened to me.
you think I'm still ooohh so in love with you
well that's so vain of you
because I've been struggling with that
if I can't be excited about this
about something that I had longed for a long time ago
then maybe nothing will ever do!
maybe I have become incapable of loving....
In a very short time my heart beat and crushed and beat and crushed
it's become dysfunctional
Noone seems to strike my interest
and I give up
I give up on you
I give up on the search
the only reason i picked up the phone when you first called
was out of lonliness
was out of missing having a male voice at the other end, late at night before going to sleep
it's pathetic.... really really pathetic
all it did was make me feel more alone
I'm so angry at you
but more at myself
I'm a pathetic creature

2008-09-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

I always blog when I'm feeling bad.
Today I'm feeling good though.
I felt all kinds of different emtions in one day.
I have bald spots!!!!!
seriously!
I'm too young for this, they're not visible but I see them when I brush my hair.
khara khara khara
and I'm also very retarded but I'm not blogging about this one to save myself some embaressment.
I wanted to stop blogging a while ago, but I just can't.
I have to delete it if I want to stop blogging.
and I'm not sure I want to.

I asked him what he prefers... too many colors or black and white.
He said black and white tab3an.
I said that I just loooooove colors. Too many at one, Amelie style.
"because I'm such a cheerful person. Zay manta 3aref" I said sarcastically
but seriously, I love colors so much.
But if I ever make a film I'm so sure it's not gonna be something like Amelie, it will be something like Lost in Translation. It also has colors but in a calmer way. Can I even describe colors as being calm?
Sad but funny, touching in a way, not too romantic, unclassified relationship, real and mundane but not boring, aestetically beautiful, amazing color compostion
and the scene when he touches her feet keda... offf I can't even start describing how much it gets to me
oooff I just love Lost in Translation
it always gets me in this certain mood after watching it
melancholy

2008-09-20T02:08:00.000-07:00

Lonliness is a state of mind.
Happiness is a state of mind.
Comfort is a state of mind.
Satisafaction is a state of mind.

Everything is.

Then we confuse the tangible with the intangible, we search for reasons behind what we feel, we manipulate our outer life so it could correspond with our inner life.
It will never work.
If you're feeling lonely you'll always feel that way no matter how many people you interact with during the day.
If you're sad no matter what you do for fun, the sadness lurking within will find its way out.
Some days I wake up with a smile, even if everything around is falling apart.
On others, I wake up feeling heavy, carrying a burden beyond my capablities, no matter how everything is there in its place.

Maybe it's the human balance.
When you reach the depth of the low, your body, in order to retain its balance has to reach the opposite on its own.
Just the way we shiver when its cold to get warmer, and sweat when its hot to prevent dehydration.

I find it strange how some people tell me that I understand them so well, and how I'm one of the closest to them, when I don't feel the same.
I try to recall the last time I confinded in a friend, had a heartfelt conversation and got out all the confusion and diruption outside in the open, but I don't seem to remember.
Even when I talk to someone about my feelings, I do it in a very shallow manner.
I want to let someone in, but I can't find someone worth letting in.
Even yesterday, when my best friend was telling me about her worries, about her aches and pains, I just listened.
I couldn't even get myself to tell her that I've been crying non-stop for the past two days.
I can't even trace its source, because nothing is wrong with my life right now.
If anything, things are going rather well.
The one I cried for, 'can't breathe' type of crying. The one, who abandoned me when I most needed him, the one that made me feel inadeqate for loving, is now calling me on a regular basis.
I'm slowly finding passion in the things I do. Life is interesting.
Maybe it's in the intense headaches, the excruiating exhaustion. Maybe it's the fact that I feel physically old, that I can't even enjoy life because I'm tired and I'd rather sleep than do whatever. Maybe it's because no one can ever know or feel what I'm feeling, which makes me realize how very alone we're in it. We're totally on our own in this world, no matter how much we try to make it look otherwise.
Maybe it's because I can't make myself love 'me'.
or maybe it's like I said, the human balance.
But in order to reach this depth, you have to reach a certain height, which is something I didn't feel long ago.
My feelings have become shallow, they don't reach extreme depths or heights.
So what is it? what is it?
Why can't my tear glands dry out.
Thinking about it now, I think the last time I actually cried was 9 months ago.
Maybe that's why. My body needs to purify itself from the clutter hoarded within.
I miss so many things, people and places.
I miss tae kwon do days, I miss lazy summer afternoons on the beach, and pancake breakfasts at friend's chalets, I miss certain smells I know I'd never smell again, I miss certain faces and smiles. I miss someone's warm hug and I miss the days when the one I loved was just an image in my memory. I miss running without getting tired. I miss so many many things.
I miss my childhood fantasy world, I miss the imagination that got lost in the way of growing up. Even though I'm still grasping hard on a part of it and will never let go, the growing up process is pulling from the other end. I will not falter, I tell myself. But it keeps pulling harder and harder.

I wish I could let someone in, I wish I could find someone worth letting in.
I wish certain people wouldn't feel ceratin things towards me because it's a strain knowing I can never give it back.
I wish I could let someone hug me without tensing up, or to let someone cross the perimeter, that I forbade anyone to cross.
I wish intimacy wouldn't scare me that much, I wish for my cold exterior to soften.
I want to like people again.

2008-09-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

why does everything seem so much beautiful when looked upon in retrospect?
I guess we edit so much from our memories, or forget how we actually felt at that time.
Or maybe it's the other way around, maybe we realize that we made a big fuss out of silly problems and think, why couldn't we have enjoyed it more, because seriously, there was nothing to worry about that much.

Addicted to me

2008-08-31T23:51:00.000-07:00

To him I'm like a drug.
He's like a person who's been rehabitilised for so long, stayed clean for years, but got tempted to just have one sniff... one little sniff...
and then returned to his old compulsive obsessivness.
Back in the days I mistook this obsession for love. When people tried to convince me that he doesn't love me I never wanted to hear from them. So how come he calls me all the time. And why is it as hard for him to end this thing as it is for me?
No one had an answer for me. It was confusing.
He never loved me, I know that now.
But he was adiccted to me. I know that for sure.
It's funny how a year ago I would've killed for something like that to happen.
Now, that it's actually happening, I'm wondering what it is that made me yearn for it so much.
I don't think I can ever love him again.
But I do understand what made me attached. There is something between us.
The concept of only having a 10 min phone call was an impossibility. It still is.
but somehow the jokes are not as funny as I remember them to be, the connection is not so deep as I thought.
I believe that we do have a connection, but not the one that would make me want to be with him in a relationship.
It's not like he even suggested anything of that sort. But we talk. Daily.
I don't even know what to make out of it. It's fun. and that's as far as I can get I guess.
Funny how time changes so much.
He told me I've changed. Well it's been more than a year what does he expect?
One day I say that people don't change, the next I say that a year changes so much in a person.

I thought that time would make us drift apart and become strangers. That's always my biggest fear when I let go of someone.
But I think...
that even if feelings change, even if some aspects of a person change,
this something that happens between two people stays forever
no matter how much time time passes it will still exist somewhere inside.
It makes me less afraid of time.
because some human connections can transcend the boundaries of time.
it is not love. At least not now.
but something feels just the same.
not about the way I feel towards him. But about we way we act around each other.
I am not afraid of time anymore.
It makes me wonder if...
that connection I once had with another person will stay the same
or if time will erase everything like a tide would with words written on sand.
Only time will tell, only time will tell.

The Cardigans - Lovefool US Version

2008-08-28T00:00:00.001-07:00

This song is dedicated to all those who have once love obsessively.
I'm so in the mood for karaokee any suggestions?

2008-08-26T05:26:00.000-07:00

Saw this on postsecret

hehe sooo funny!!!
If anyone sees this they would immediatly think that I'm the one who actually sent it.
I'm a nuttella obsessed person. I think I've mentioned this a gazillion times before.
I just ADORE nuttella.
and as someone once told me: "some people worship god, you worship nuttella"
and it actually DOES turn me on.
lol
I love you nuttela person whoever you are.
and I posted this to annoy you kov :p

nostalgia

2008-08-20T12:08:00.000-07:00

While driving today listening to nile f.m. blaaaa I hate nile fm it's just that my ipod stopped functioning :( I MISS MY MUSIC soo much!!!! A song starts and it sounds very familiar to my ear and then I think... Ahhh dee shabah the background music in tekken 3 (eddie's place). But then da f.m. guy says it's the song "jealousy" and then it starts "ahhhh jelousy". That's when I smile "oh now I get it". And then I remembered that even back then with him I was thinking that it was so similar to Eddie's song. Then I started laughing really hard. I remembered everything, that day when he was singing it to me, the expression on his face and every little detail around. On my last blog I once wrote this post about the things that I don't want to forget about certain guys in my life. I seem to have this obsession of writing down funny/rememrable/beautiful moments in fear of forgetting them but now I realized that if a moment is really that special I will never forget it. And maybe it'll be more special that way. I have an obsession with memories and moments and a nagging fear of ever losing them. Hmmm so should I stop writing moments of my life?

Hable con Ella - Short Movie [Experiment N°2]

2008-08-19T14:44:00.001-07:00

This thing was so funny. I don't want to forget it. I have such a good memory and I rarely forget anything yet I write down moments that I don't want to forget. Why do I keep doing that?
Anyways.
We were at a friend's chalet making breakfast, well, they were making breakfast while I was watching habla con ella with a friend. Everyone was going to and fro not even bothering to look at that spanish movie we were watching. So this girl comes out of the kitchen throws something at my friend (the one who's watching with me) and it lands right on her crotch so she says "you're a vagina" in her silly voice, then she turns to the screen and what does she see? a huge vagina infront of her.She points at the screen and screams "Ohh vagina". That's when everyone (the same people who were just seconds ago indifferent to what were watching) gathered infront of the TV to watch that huge vagina... and just when the scene ended everyone went away. Keda in a second they all went back to their business.

2008-08-19T13:24:00.000-07:00

so I said I'm not blogging anymore and I'm not!
It's just that something happened today that I should really blog about and if I don't I won't write it anywhere or I would on some discarded notebook and forget where it was written in a few weeks.
Magles el shoora that was on fire today is right infront the cairo center, which happens to be the place where I'm taking my japanese lessons.
And I was watching the fire from the window for 2 hours and it soothed me so much.
When the class was over there were loads of masses of people on the streets watching the fire and shooting the scene with their cellphone cameras. There were sounds of helicopter engines from above. Something was surreal about the scene today. I felt that the world was hazy, that I was in a dream. It felt nice. The aura of my surroundings. I don't know if it's because something different was happening or because the surroundigs were so orange?

I loved looking at the bulding being burnt.
I've been feeling so empty inside for so long
and believe me I've tried everything to fill it up
I even rode on a harley :) a goddamn harley!!! And didn't feel a teeny weeny thing!
and only today while watching this I felt something. It wasn't ecsatatic happinees, it wasn't mellow happiness either, I don't think I can even put that in the happiness category.
but I felt something.
It felt like a deja vu of something so distant... or an eerie familar scene.
Does that make any sense?
I seem to get confused by the things I'm feeling lately!
I feel things at such inappropriate times, as if my feelings are not even linked to what's happening on the outside.

Watching from a glasshouse

2008-07-26T03:15:00.000-07:00

A deafening eerie silence surrounding me in my glasshouse, detaching me from everything
Looking outside from my glasshouse voices slowly fade away in the void that is my mind.
The reflection of the light from the outside hits my eyes and makes me look away.
Faces and places dance in front of me.
Looking at the glass, footages of unedited film run in front of me. It doesn’t make sense.
Nothing does.
Sometimes it amuses me but at other times the air runs out and suffocates me.
I clutch my chest and take deep even breaths.
1… my chest widens
2…. it retreats
3….. widens again
4….. retreats… on and on

But the air runs away. I freak out trying to grab the remaining oxygen with my fist.
I clutch my fist tightly but the air manages to seep out of the gaps between my fingers.
I near my hand to my nose and inhale the remaining air to fill my thirsty lungs, slowly…
But it doesn’t suffice.

I bang on the glass and scream; the swarming masses passing in front of the glass go on about their routine. I bang harder but they don’t turn to me.

The air is just centimeters away yet it can’t reach me because of the barrier between us… that invisible barrier.

I scream louder and bang harder, before I know it tears are gushing out of my eyes.
I cup my hands and let the tears fill them up and drink the salty tear water to end that quenching thirst.
It slides down my throat slowly burning my insides… instead of healing them.

I look outside, from that isolated wall. Without the noise everything around me looks peaceful. Why did I ever enter that house? , I wonder.

They look so happy out there. Looking around me at that empty space, the void around me was so empty. It lacked the warmth of a human company. It was chilly.
Maybe I’d be happier if there was someone to laugh and joke with.
Two lovers passed by the house, their fingers entwined.
Kids were tossing around a red Frisbee and running after it, shoving one another, their little curious eyes glowing.
A bunch of friends were laughing hysterically. I couldn’t laugh with them. I didn’t understand. It was probably an inside joke.
Happy faces passing by gave me a sense of loss, an emptiness, a craving for a special someone.
Right then I smashed the glass door sucking in the air that I was longing for, for so long.

I breathed in but it got stuck in my throat and I coughed. The air around me was polluted; I could see the molecules of dirt swarming around.
I looked at the children and there at the very end sat a little kid alone, yearning for a day to play. He was skinny and frail. His eyes met mine and gave me a knowing look.
The friends I’ve seen earlier were making fun of a person they knew….
I ran away to my shattered house, took a tiny piece of glass and sliced my flesh.
The little boy turned away and I stood there watching as my blood was dripping on my feet… longing for my self-made quarantine.

I thought I'd post this one as a last post because it's the reason I named the blog watching from a glasshouse and it summarized my state of mind during the time of owning this blog.

The worst chore in human history

2008-07-09T16:03:00.000-07:00

is packing bags.
I hate it I hate it I hate it.

2008-07-07T13:47:00.000-07:00

I've spent almost the whole day with a friend of mine today. We used to be really close before the medication period and stuff, but with time passing we just drifted apart. Just as I have with most people I knew. I didn't talk much, I was just watching everyone the same way I always do. Like a spectator watching a screen. And she noticed. On our way back in her car she told me I've changed, I've became quiter. "You used to go on and on talking" she said.
I've heard it so many times now, how much I've changed, how quiet, withdrawn I've become. I feel that I've grown but inside I'm still me.... I'm still the exact same person. The way I look at things, feel things are still the same really.
I feel that as my outer world was diminishing, my inner world was expanding. I've created a whole world inside of there that it has become rather hard to get out of it. I've encountered fears, reconciled with my long forgotten childhood friend, got to know me, got to read, got to be interested in film, started learning japanese.
I have never expected to change so much.
During that time I was sitting at the bottom of the well (from the wind-up bird chronicles).
I really related to the well thing in the novel. Did I mention how much I'm starting to love Haruki Murakami or Murakami Haruki (japanese style :))?
I realized that I'm really drawn to surreal works in literature, art or film.
and realism, I love both realism and surrealism. I love films that make you feel that a camera was just shooting people going about their daily life. I love books that describe every single thing, that paint a clear picture of the scene infront of you. and I love it when I read something and start feeling the way the protagonist feels. I'm currently reading Madame Bovary and I'm loving it, I'm feeling Emma so much, when I read it, I feel like I'm actually her. It's weird.

Why can't I ever feel pretty unless I'm told I am?
Why do I always feel so worthless and useless, unless someone comes my way and tells me I'm not?
Why can't I ever feel capable of anything? Why do I feel so small?
There's only one thing in this whole world that I'm sure of though.
I'm confident with my ideas. I've always been an "idea" person.
There was this thing on campus magazine where they would pick one person with the best screenplay idea to participate in a certain workshop.
No, I didn't get picked.
But I got an email from the editor telling me that I have good ideas and asking me if I'd like to freelance for them.
I do believe in my ideas.
When I was a bit young I was thinking that it would be cool if there was a TV show where people would enter your room and try to guess who lives in that room male/female? age of the person, interests, life and so on..... a few years later there was room Room Raiders on MTV. Well, the objective of room raiders is to find somebody to date but the concept is the same right?
And then... at the age of 14 maybe I wrote something similar to that in my diary: "Wouldn't it be cool if there was something like a website where people can write diary entries anonymously?" I wrote that after reading a friend's diary (with her consent of course... I would never eveeeeeeer invade someone else's privacy). well and then came the whole blogging thing.
It was MY idea at first. I should seriously sue the blogging people :)
And last year I was telling a friend that I'll write a story about women going on sex strike and finally getting their rights. The semester right after I took a play in the theatre course 'Lysistrata', which was about women going on a sex strike to stop wars.
And when I took the film class we had to write a paper on how we would make a palestinian film if we were directing one. The professor wrote me that mine was the most innovative idea. She even put a smiley at the end :).
These might not be grand ideas, they could've occured to anyone but the thing is, I get ideas like that all the time and with a little bit of development those little ideas could amount to something.
When I sent my ideas to Campus, I wasn't sure that they'll choose one of my ideas but I had a feeling inside that even if they don't they'd send me an e-mail telling me that eventhough I wasn't chosen those are good ones.
I'm that confident when it comes to my ideas.
it's the only thing I'm confident about.

2008-07-03T15:09:00.000-07:00

At my cousin's engagment party today:
This woman said something that was so not funny so I mockingly imitated her and then commeted on what she said (I don't remember exactly whta I said), my sister glared at me.
"What?"
"The camera was right at your face"
"really? heheheh. Next time I'll keep my sarcasm to myself" (in a somewhat loud voice)
she glared again
"What?"
"can't you see? bey2ro el fat7a. Just shut up"
I watched the people as they were all reciting the fat7a with solemn expressions on their faces and I wanted to laugh out loud. There's just something so funny about people being so serious.
I should really take social conduct 101 or small talk 101 or etiquette 101 (yeah right).
On occasions like this I always feel like an outsider, I sat alone on a table munching on the almonds and cashonuts just watching everything and pretending I'm shooting a scene. It always happens to me lately. I'd be watching something and imagine I'm shooting a movie.
I'm not antisocial. I'm somehow still connected to the world. Just yesterday I was in Makan having fun, singing in the car and being... I don't know...that other me that only seems to pop out every once in a while. It's all in the company I guess. At least now I know who's company I enjoy and don't need to waste time trying to enjoy the company of people that will never entertain me, put me in a good mood or make me feel like I belong.
I left early, I had this headache so I went inside the house. The engagment thing was in a garden in a house in el Mansoreya. I went inside and rested a bit on the couch, the maid asked me if everything is alright. I told her that it's nothing, that I just have a headache and want to sit inside for a while. She got me tea :). Then I called the driver and left. They probably think that I still get tired and they'll excuse me and shit lol. I just wasn't in the mood that's all.

2008-07-02T14:58:00.000-07:00

I really want to post something here.
My mind wants to let out all the cluttered thoughts and words while my mood is resisting it.
I sucks that I was soo in the writing mood during the japanese lesson. I wrote a bit there but I couldn't let myself get totally in that mood. And now, that I'm finally home, I don't feel like it anymore.
:@

2008-07-02T14:50:00.000-07:00

I went to Makan today, there was this zar thing. It was AMAZING!
:)

2008-06-30T08:21:00.000-07:00

I have a pleasant looking face meaning: the impression I give based on how I look is that of a pure, kindhearted, non-grudge holding, quiet and friendly person... well I can leave out the friendly part because a lot of times I give the "back off" or "don't approach me" attitude.
My grandmother calls me "nesma" lol except lately she says nesme we feeha 3asefa every now and then.
Based on how I look noone can ever guess the dark thoughts that can sometimes envelop my being. Nobody can guess how mean I can sometimes be. Nobody can guess the saracastic/mean comments that are always in my head, they're never uttered though. Maybe that's why. It's so easy being deceived and I'm a great indication of that. Because they can't see it with their eyes, they automatically assume it doesn't exist. It's like that with everything.
I hate it when someone says I'm pure or kind because eventhough I'm empathetic by nature, eventhogh I feel good when I help out a friend or someone in need. I AM NOT THAT PURE.

So many layers of anger, rage, sadness and resentment are buried so deep inside of me underneath perfectly numb skin.
One day it will all come out.
it's gonna be ugly.

2008-06-28T14:30:00.000-07:00

"you know what I think?"

"what?"

"I think I'm gonna take these japanese courses and reach like the fifth level..."

"and then get bored and quit?"
I didn't even have to finish the sentence, she just knows me too well...
does she?

I wonder if anyone really does...
some people at some point get a grasp of what I'm about but does anyone truly know me?
Do I truly know anyone?
DO i even know me?

I wish I could hold your hand really tight and get through everything inside, just for a second.
I want you to do the same with me.

2008-06-23T13:26:00.000-07:00

I want to believe in something!
ANYTHING

please?

My newest obsessions

2008-06-20T13:17:00.001-07:00

2008-06-19T02:46:00.000-07:00

woke up, my heart was pounding really hard and my whole body was throbbing.
I stopped taking the medications about 2 months ago but I still don't feel 100% alright. It's normal I guess... I went through two diseases in the past couple of years it will take time.
Yesterday, I was afraid of being groped all day, whenever I'm on the street I tense up everytime someone is 5 inches away (what's an inch aslan... I don't know how to measure in inches but anyway... anyone who was a bit close). The image of the man was haunting me all day, I could be exeggerating but I couldn't get it off all day yesterday.
I cooled down today. At least I'm not feeling nauseous anymore.
I want to get out of here....
this place, and everything surrounding me.
Everyday the feeling increases. Most people who live abroad or who lived there for a while say that the thing they miss about Egypt is its warmth.
To me this doesn't matter because this warmth they talk about doesn't exist for me.
I always feel detached, alienated, not here.
My existence lies somewhere else. The person who talking with others, the human blood and flesh person that is there in actual presence is not me. Because I moved somewhere else long ago. I live on a planet far away.
Family gatherings are always so fake. I've become cold towards friends. And the warmth from my immediate family suffocates me.
Why can't I find it in my heart to forgive some people?
I learned to get by on my own. I don't need people anymore.
Before my illness I was dependant on others to make me feel better.
During that time I realized that nobody will help me but me.
I had so many low moments but none of my friends knew.
I remember that month, my parents were in the US and I was suffering from eppstein virus. A fever that lasts for about a month and a half, and even when the fever is over you stay exhaused for a long time. (By no means am I blaming them for travelling, I'm the one who reasurred them that I was ok and I didn't mind.)The thing is, at that time my grandmother stayed over, to supposedly take care of me, but I never wanted to ask anything from her. My sister was always either in Uni or out. and my friends.... don't even let me get there. So I spent a whole month alone. I didn't even want to drop the semster because I had gone a long way while being sick (at first I didn't know I had the virus I thought it was just fever) so I thought I've gone this far khals ba2a makamel el semester.
I had no appetite and barely ate anything, and when I did I was too tired to go make myself something to eat and there was no one around to make me food. None of friends helped with uni stuff. I remember this week. I nearly colapsed in Uni and I was crying so hard and had no energy to even get up. I even made a scene in class, because I was so stressed out. That day so many people called and offered help. People that are not even so close. But the next day... nada! Anyway it was better that way. It taught me to depend on myself. During that month I thought that this is the lowest of the low. I never knew that this was a bliss compared to the medications for hepatits C.
I'm not playing the victim here, I'm just saying... people will never be there for you when you need them most. That's something I learned. That doesn't make those people "bad". It's just life. Everyone has his own conflicts and problems so people become busy, they get occupied by their own life.
and this is why I believe I can get by on my own anywhere.
I want to get out of here.

This is so bad

2008-06-17T19:14:00.000-07:00

Today, while going up the elevator with this man, who was delivering this cupboard to our neighbours.... I feel so nauseous now. This sucks! Well... He was going out of the elevator but he was having diffuculty moving the thing so I helped him getting it out, and that's when his hand brushed against my boobs, I thought it was undeliberate but I just froze in my place because I got so startled so then he grabbed them, and this time it wasn't unitentional at all. I pushed his hands away and kicked out the thing. I don't know how this happened but by the time the thing was outside he was also outside. I shut the door quickly and frantically pushed the button to my floor, but the elevator didn't move. I was shaking hard, so I pushed any other button and it finally moved. I should've slapped him, I should've slapped him, I should've slapped him. At moments like these I wish I was a guy, I wish I had no boobs. And the worst part is, that this is actually normal and it happens to every single girl. I hate him and I hate the feeling he gave me, I hate the pervy society we're living in. I feel so disgusted.
If that's how it feels like when getting touched by a stranger than I can't even imagine how a raped girl would feel. It must be the worst thing that could happen to a girl.

2008-06-05T02:32:00.000-07:00

"My stuttering, I need hardly say, placed an obstacle between me and the outside world. It is the first sound that I have trouble in uttering. The first sound is like a key to the door that seperates my inner world from the outside world, and I have never known that key to turn smoothly in its lock. Most people, thanks to their easy command of words, can keep this door between the inner world and outer world wide open, so that the air passes freelybetween the two; but for me this has been quite impossible. Thick rust has gathered on the key."

"Once my solitude had started, I realized anew it was easy for me to become accustomed to this state and that the most effortless excistence for me was in fact in which I was not obliged to speak to anyone."

Yukio Mishima- The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

I know that my stuttering is not THAT bad but I really liked these parts and I totally relate to the second one. I have to read more of Yukio Mishima. I love his writing and the way he digs so deep in the human psychology.

2008-06-04T02:02:00.000-07:00

so I was tagged by Kovs...
now I have to think of 6 quirks I have
I can honestly think of only one
well, I alwaysss have to lock the bathroom door, even if I'm the only one at home. If I don't I get irritated and feel uncomfortable.

Happy Birthday!!

2008-05-31T22:35:00.000-07:00

2008-05-30T17:11:00.000-07:00

ok so it's not the last post...
heheh
I just wanted to add something....
when I write in a haste, like I'm doing right now, my posts would always be filled with mistakes.
I spot them, I just spotted a few right now, and some sentences don't make any sense, but I still don't edit most of the time.
It just feels so much more real like that.
Does this make any sense?

2008-05-30T16:52:00.000-07:00

this is the last post, I promise
but it's really strange
yesterday I had a dream about him, even though it's been ages since that happened
it wasn't a pleasant one, but not disturbing either
I saw him golfing from far away, he doesn't even golf
and he was wearing a red T-shirt, when I saw him, I ran away, I climbed houses, and ran on top of the buildings, the last thing I wanted was for him to see me...
so then I jump down and I'm surrounded by a large mass of people, I get so lost in the middle and there I find him, but I can't see his head (you know like the parens of cow and chicken)
so I crawl on the ground and get out of the place

something I feel that I have a weird sense for these things, many of my dreams come true...
isn't it strange that I dreamt about him yesterday, even though I rarely ever think of him...
and on that same day when he would contact me again!!!

2008-05-30T15:43:00.000-07:00

it's 2 minutes later I know....
but.... you know when something happens that you least expected!
and then you let it run smoothly, sort of
and then you feel refreshed and liberated
but something inside doesn't feel right? still
and curiosity is getting the better of you?
Leh? Begad Leih? ana mesh fahma

2008-05-30T15:30:00.000-07:00

Shocked, kind of glad but not too happy about it!
It was the last thing I could've ever expected.
Oh well
I'm glad I handeled it that way!
and I feel so relieved phewwwwwww

oh and I went to see Madame butterfly today! I never thought I'd actually enjoy the opera but I did! and it was in Japan.
I'm feeling good

2008-05-29T09:43:00.000-07:00

Some months ago
"I'm soooo excited I got the application for a year abroad to japan I really wish I would go!!"
"I don't really get it. Why do you want to go there that much" he asked
"well... I love their culture and everything about them" I replied still enthusiastic
"so what do you know about thir culture ?"
"ha?" I got so embarresed "martial arts?" and then I laughed
" I must sound like a total airhead heheh"

the next we met

"see that Diwan bag. Go get it"
I got up went over to get it
"it's a gift for you"
wowww a gift! I got so excited, I rarely ever get gifts from guys I like.
so I open the bag and what do I find? a book about Japan
I stared at it for a moment. "Thank you" finally said and then I kissed him. "you know this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done to me." I told him
he didn't believe me.
"It can possibly be THE sweetest thing."
I thought for a while .... "well maybe the second sweetest" and I told him all about the day my ex got me a bag full of chocolates of every kind! (stupid stupid girl)

anyway what I say is that this gave me the push I needed, and eventhough I have a whole library available for me, this book will always remain my reminder, it will remind me to go for the things I want... it's a reminder not to give up.
If you're reading this .... I know that it was a long time ago, but thanks again...
and it was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done
I devoured the chocolates in a day (well not exactly a day) but the effect that the book instilled is still there

2008-05-25T07:08:00.000-07:00

I just applied for this japanese course.... I just came back from the interview
the results are supposed to be out by next week, I'll stay restless till then
oooff I hate my overexcitedness and I know myself, It would be taking over my mind for the whole next week
I don't know if they'll accept me or not but one thing is for sure.... I showed them a hell of excitedness ... I was like "to live in Japan is my life long dream" "I've been reading a lot about it"
"I've been reading japanese literature and haiku poetry", when I'm over excited I can't really tone it down no matter how hard I try. Don't know if that's a good or bad thing though.
well most of time when I apply for something I get accepted because my enthusiasm... and two weeks later I lose interest and make them regret accepting me heheh
but I won't lose interest on this.... I'll do my best, I'll be a fluent japanese speaker...
ooof I can't wait for a whole week.... this is torturing!!!
well this guy who was also being interviewed told me that I did well... yaret yeb2a ma3ahhh 7a2!!!

isn't it weird that

2008-05-24T07:38:00.000-07:00

- the first time I tried sushi I felt I was in heaven
- everytime I'm somewhere with karaoke I'd be the first one on stage
- that I've always had a fascination for kanji letters, even though I didn't know they were called kanji back then, I called them chinese letters, I even had a necklace with the word 'love' in kanji
- I've always had a fascination for dragons, even as a kid before I knew they were related to chinese mythology
- that I always loved martial arts even before trying them, I used to watch karate kid and wish for my own mister miagy :)
- that I love asian food in general
- I had a crush on samurai guy, and the korean guy who came for an exchange thing with our school choir (and I talked to neither of them, I'm a dork like that)

I can't think of other things right now but I'm so sure that the list is so much longer than that
I was born in the wrong place! Seriously! or in the wrong body....
maybe I shouldv'e been a male instead of female...
well now I'm comfortable in my female body but for such a long time I was really trying to adjust
as kids, my sister used to get things like barbies and baby born, and I used to get playstation games, remote control cars, all the guys toys, I always had a weird violent streak (but I don't think that goes back to my tomboyishness... it has more to do with I don't know.... maybe the feelings that I try hard to supress?)
anyway what I'm trying to say is, that I was either born in the wrong place, the wrong body or even in the wrong time, sometimes I feel that I belong in a time when they used torches to light the way, when they used feathers to write, a time when things were slower....
I'm such a slowpaced person and sometimes I feel that I can't keep up with this world that keeps pushing.... that counts every second... that measures time and supresses it.
Even my choice in film, I always get drawn to realllly slowpaced films, I watched "Death in Venice" a few weeks ago and I thought it was one of the best films I've ever seen... it's sooooo slow though.... I think that most people will get restless watching it....
actually the board members (or whatever their called) of my school didn't want to accept me in school because I was a slow person WTF ( I was in kindergarten for god sakes 7aram 3aleihom!!!)
I'm not so slow as much as I'm always somewhere else....
In first grade, when I was in recess, I used to sit there and stare ahead and get sooo lost, the bell would ring, everyone would go up to class and I'd still be sitting there not even aware that the bell has rung and then I wake up from my reverie and look around me, and find noone, the whole area around me would be empty, I rush to class and tell the teacher I was in the bathroom, I used to get embarresed saying something like "I was daydreaming, I didn't even hear the bell" so I stuck with the bathroom story hehhehe I was such a stupid kid
I talk a lot about me as a kid don't I?
I don't know why I do that.... but I believe that the version of kid me (of kid everyone) is the real version of the person.... of course all versions are real, and the person we are is an accumelation of all the people we've been, the people that we've met who influenced us, the things we saw and read, life shapes us but we the remain of the same substance
if you're made of red dough, you'll always remain 'red dough',
the little red dough ball will stretch from each side, it could get squeezed, a piece might be taken away from it, it could get scratched, imprinted on with different patterns and shapes....
but it will remain a red dough
actually after my almost one year isolation from the world I realized that the person I am now, resembles the kid me so much
there's this quote I wrote down from Haruki Murakami's 'Kafka on the shore' that says: " the child's the father of the man."....
I want to meet the kid me and talk to her :)
that would be interesting
you know when there's a certain insignificant moment that pops to your head out of nowhere?
well, a few days ago I remembered when I was in Luxor and Aswan with my parents, I think I was 9 or something, I'm not sure...
and then this woman came over to ask me something like "where's the bathroom?" so I gave her this elaborate made up answer something like "it used to be here yesterday, but when I came here today I couldn't find it, turns out that this magician came and made it invisible, the only way to actually see it is to search for the watever stone or something" (that wasn't my story I'm just giving an example of how it was like). The woman looked at me and smiled "lazem tetla3y kateba" she said .... I gave her this disgusted look and said "Ya3... they're all unattractive and wear glasses" heheh that was so stereotypical, what I don't understand is that I was actually very tomboysih at that time and didn't care less about my appearance, I always wore baggy pants and T-shirts.... we mesh fahma.... where did I get that from (unattractive, wearing glasses) heheh ... and I used to have a diary and write short stories, even back then bas bardo the idea of becoming a writer was somehow disgusting lol

ok that's it for now

everyone is so stressed out with the finals and freaking out, and I'm watching them amused hehhe

2008-05-20T01:51:00.000-07:00

"Rumor sometimes follows a more precise logic than fact, and fact more than rumor is apt to have a lie in it somewhere"

" One who pans for gold can't expect to dig up only gold, or even attempt to. He must blindly scoop the sand from the river bottom. He doesn't have the privelege of finding out in advance whether he will succeed. Maybe there's no gold in it, but maybe there is. Yet the one thing certain is that the person who doesn't pan for gold never gets any richer"

"A telephone- it seems a long time since I last saw one. It's a strange device, constantly entangling the emtions of human beingswithing itself, yet capable of uttering nonsense more than a simple bell tone. Doesn't it feel any pain from all the loves, the hatreds and desires that pass through it? or is the sound of that bell a scream of the pain convulsive and unendurable that the telephone continually inflicts?"
Thirst for love-Yukio Mishima

I just read my yesterday's post and realized that this is exactly the way I speak.
sometimes I write the way I speak, especially on the blog and at other times I write the way I write, which turns out to be more coherent. I'm not gonna change a thing though (not even all the mistakes) because it explains the whole retardedness of speech thing, bakalem we ma7adesh beyfham. I understand myself and that's enough for right now.

the only thing that keeps me going....

2008-05-14T08:42:00.000-07:00

is the hope...
the dream
that one day I'd be living in Japan

this is not one of my fading obsessions
the interest increases
my mind is set
I will go there one day!
I will do anything to reach that

lately I'm reading about Japanese culture, haiku poetry, manga, japanese swords.... anything japanese related
reading japanese literature, watching japanese films
and I'm starting to understand more about them
it's the only thing that excites me
just daydreaming about living there makes me feel better

2008-05-14T08:40:00.001-07:00

I feel more alone when I'm around people than when I'm actually alone
I suffocate

How to disappear completely- Radiohead

2008-05-13T13:57:00.000-07:00

That there
Thats not me
I go
Where I please
I walk through walls
I float down the liffey
Im not here
This isnt happening
Im not here
Im not here
In a little while
Ill be gone
The moments already passed
Yeah its goneAnd Im not here
This isnt happening
Im not here
Im not here
Strobe lights and blown speakers
Fireworks and hurricanes
Im not here
This isnt happening
Im not here
Im not here

I'm not falling into depression again
I'm not!
i just feel like posting this song because I love it and i relate to it
I'm not depressed

2008-05-12T17:27:00.000-07:00

K's choice- butterflies instead:
imagination fills the void of my existence

Porcupine tree - Lazarus:
As the cheerless towns pass my window
I can see a washed out moon through the fog

Imogen heap - oh me oh my:
Quiet now in sleepy dreams
To me it seems the only time to be
Just me

I woke up, in the middle of my sleep
trying to escape that dream
it's not a nightmare
it's a wonderful dream
we sleep 1/3 of our life
so what makes a dream less real than reality?

the last time I actually cried was last january
do I have to cry to prove to myself that I'm not ok?
that I'm just pretending?

My eternal ellipsis

2008-05-11T13:59:00.000-07:00

Everyday my life starts making more sense
like a polaroid picture that's slowly taking shape, revealing itself
it's still somehow blurry and vague
but I'm waiting
watching
lines in the picture are slowly connecting creating a silhouette of a mysterious figure
the dark figure will brighten up, different colors will appear
it will get clearer and clearer
what will happen when the whole picture pops put of the darkness?
when it's fully constructed?
does anyone ever reach that stage?
it doesn't matter anyway because I'm still waiting and the lines are still barely traceable, their just beginning to appear
and I'm waiting

sometimes I feel that most of my life I've been waiting
for what exactly, I don't know
There's always something beyond, something out there that will be reached
this eternal ellipsis that has become my life is beyond the past present and future, it's a time stuck in between that has no charachterstics or form

the seasons change
the clock ticks endlessly
night and day shift
children get born,
their first teeth start falling off
they grow up
puberty, their hormones change
they develop more
stretch marks, wrinkles
a slow decaying process

and I'm still waiting
waiting
but nothing happens
there's nothing to wait for
because this is it
this is life
but I still wait
watch and listen
as time trails off
slowly
and I watch it as it evaporates
and I still wait
in my eternal ellipsis

2008-05-10T09:55:00.000-07:00

I think that the sense of smell is the most underrated one of all senses.
I was once eavesdropping on a conversation (I do that lot) *embaressed
so this girl was saying "I was born without a sense of smell"
I thought that this must be truly awful
actually, for me, it's tragic
she'd never know though because she doesn't know what it is
The tragic thing about being blind or deaf is the alienation it gives the person
not smelling still makes you part of this world, you'll still see, listen, interact and everything...
but an integral part of existence relies on smelling, a part that's overlooked a lot
I personally can't live without the sense of smell
I always sniff around, everything everywhere
I've been like that ever since I was a kid
the sense of smell is so powerful
an odor can transform a person into a past moment, it is the sense most capable of making me nostalgic for a certain time, place or person
listening to a song also does that, but nothing can beat the sense of smell
This describes smells in their most beautiful form
I truly love this post
and there's das parfuem by Patrick Sueskind of course

2008-05-08T01:47:00.000-07:00

I was jogging today!
I just came back!
I'm so happpyyyy :)
Jogging is one of my favourite things in the world
it's that me time, the time for me to be alone, to think
I'm slowly regaining my fitness
there's something so beautiful about the reconstruction period, when you lose it all and start again
when I run my thoughts run wild in every direction
a few years ago, at times when I just wanted to get away from it all, I used to go the club with my notebook run run run and the sit back relax and write.... it was my own little ritual
I didn't have my notebook today so I forgot most of the things that were going through my head
I was mostly thinking of growing up
and now I'm not even in the mood to write them down....

2008-05-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

I'm just thinking
why are buttcracks disgusting and cleavages sexy?
they're more or less the same thing
If you extract the image from its context they'll be exactly the same thing
but somehow one looks good and the other not
Why?

2008-04-28T18:36:00.000-07:00

I can't sleep
and I have nothing interesting to say
and I stopped feeling
I can't even have a decent cry
why am I blogging again?
oh yeah because I'm bored
and because it's almost 5 a.m. and I still haven't slept
and I have nothing better to do
or maybe I do but I don't want to get up and turn on the lights
what's worse
overfeeling
or feeling nothing at all
why can't I ever reach a middle ground in anything?
I seriously have nothing interesting to add
I hate it when I suffer from insomnia, it reminds me of the time when I was on extensive medication
now I'm finally off everything
so WHY THE HELL CAN'T I SLEEP?
I should at least try I'm waking up in a few hours