Speak Up

Sometimes you feel you do not know what to do. Many times. Oftentimes. You do not know where to start, or where to end. You do not know where to go, or whom to seek. So you read in hope of finding the answer written by someone somewhere in those oceans of lines throughout that universe of pages; you write in hope of finding the answer yourself, for it could be right inside you, somehow, somewhere, and it should be; you listen in hope of hearing some idea, some awakening thought or inspiration or experience, to help you solve your own mystery; but you never speak. And what good is it to speak if no one will hear? And what good is it to speak if you are not sure what to say, or how to say it?

Thinking about it, you become consumed: gradually eroded, like an unfortunate land, once green and lively and happy, soon yellow and cracked and wretched; gradually corroded, like a dismantled metal, once shiny and robust and efficient, soon rusty and fragile and disposable. It totally takes over you, all over you: a mind not willing to think anymore, a heart not willing to feel anymore, and a body not willing to operate anymore. Standing still, in despair, in the middle of the highway, where everybody around you is running past you, everybody, but you.

So you read again, you write again, you listen again, but still so quiet. And the more you read and write and listen, the more you see it and hear it over and over again. The answer is right in there, and right up there, with the Glorified Lord of everywhere. It is written by the people before in the books and articles and reflections you read, it is said by the people you encounter and listen to as guidance to the way out, and even when you write, your words simply refer to it, for you know it but you do not believe it. But you are still missing something, to be heard.

Speak up so that you can be heard. Speak up towards the One and plead. Raise your hands up, turn your head up, open your heart up, and clear your mind up, and speak. No matter how to say it, no matter what to say, He will hear. He always hears. So speak up and be sure that the answers to all your questions are to be provided. Speak up, believe, and be certain that you rest on solid unshakable grounds, that you will get what is best for you, and that He verily responds to whoever calls, whoever believes, whoever follows the right way.

Lost? Seek Help

If you are in love with your work, you can lose it at any time, you can leave it at any time; if you are in love with some person, you can lose him/her at any time, you can leave each other at any time; if you are in love with your house, you can lose it at any time, whether voluntarily or involuntarily; if you love your parents, you can lose them at any time, or maybe they might lose you first; if you love life, you can lose it at any time, and you will leave it sooner or later; and the list goes on and on for the things and people that you can lose. 

Everything and everyone can be lost, yet life goes on. Even if you lose your own self, and you no longer know who you are, or what you should do, or why you are doing what you are doing, or how you can keep living, life still goes on. Everything and everyone can be lost and can leave you and be left except the One, exalted is His Name, for He never leaves you. And if you lose Him, life will suddenly come to a shuddering halt. Yet, you never leave Him as well. You might think you lost Him, but you just cannot. He cannot be left for He is everywhere, and He cannot be lost for He is the One who made you found and founded in the first place. 
So feeling lost? Think hard. Feeling losing? Think harder. Contemplate and reflect. The test is set for you, but so are the answers, way before you were even born. And so is the Help, closer to you than your jugular vein.

The Beauty Statue

Let the horses of your imagination run in the forests of thought and creativity. Ride them and seek your freest dreams, your wildest fantasies. Let the ancient myth come true. Let your Pygmalion come back into being.

There she stands, a statue of a woman of unparalleled beauty. You would want to kiss her, to bring her into life. You may want to spell her, to fall in love with you. But you fall in love with her first. You fell in love with the perfect woman woven by the threads of your fine imagination, sculptured by the hands of a truly talented craftsman. You fell in love with a beauty statue. 
When you see some sort of beauty you become half-blinded: your eyes are taken away, but your consciousness is still there. But when that object of beauty reacts with you, you become totally blinded, for your eyes and consciousness all fall under the mercy of admiration, sensation, expectation, subordination, prostration! And when life flows through the marble veins of such ideal work of distinction, it is only a matter of time before being stabbed by the ivory daggers of love and affection. What are the odds that a perfect statue like her would love an imperfect human being like you?! It is true that her beauty is your creation, but a statue eventually loves but another statue, and there you would lie, bleeding drops of not blood, but frustration and desperation. Broken, though in flesh, not marble.

You have created a masterpiece of art, almost human, but she is not. Nothing but a cold-hearted beauty statue of marble and ivory. Some may think you are being judgmental, and others may think you are so sentimental. And they are right, but only half-right. For you will find that you already abandoned the 'senti-' and the 'judge' and left them all to the others, to follow, to decide, while taking with you only the 'mental' part, for the mind shall be your only trusted companion.
The eyes can be fooled, the senses can be cheated, but the mind stays, more resistant, and less vulnerable.

يا شادي الألحان

،يا شادي الألحان، مالك تشدو وحيدا

 ،في الكون الواسع شريدا، ترى من القضبان مزيدا

ترفرف بأجنحتك فريدا، إلى الأفق تطير بعيدا،

 ...من الأرض إلى السماء عتيدا، من الظلمات إلى النور طريدا

Do Not Disturb!

    After a couple of days of compliance to the sign "Do Not Disturb" hanging on the door handle, the service boy decided to break into such mysterious room and to disturb its inhabitant who should be as the records say a man in his middle age. From the very first day he checked in to the hotel the service boy felt that something is not right. And a curious person as he is, he made this man's room as his center of revolving around the axis of the many rooms of the Class A category which are in his charge. But once the man entered into the room, nobody ever saw him again. And the sign of "Do Not Disturb" never left its place, driving away any intruders to spoil the requested peacefulness.

      It is the third consecutive day now and nothing is changing, the man is still unseen, and the sign is still there on the door, swaying with the soft tunes of the tender breeze but never falling and never taken away. With careful steps and observing eyes, here is the service boy approaching towards the room, looking right and left to make sure that nobody can see him, thinking about some lie to tell if he is caught by the room lodger or worse by one of the managers. So far so good; no one saw him, so he puts his hand on the door handle, he clutches to it firmly, and presses it down. The door opens, the service boys takes a step inside, he closes the door back, and again nothing appears but the sign that he has just became a disturber and the sentence of a disturber shall be his fate...

      He remained stunned for a while as if he saw a fearful ghost, but what he saw was a little worse. It has been said before: be careful of what you wish for. And here is the man at last, but now he wishes he has never found him, and now he regrets disturbing him and entering this damned room. Now he started to realize that he was seeking nothing but trouble. So there the man lies on the fancy hotel room bed, but with no face! No eyes, no nose, no mouth, nothing, blank, zilch! Just a lifeless, faceless body! And it was a matter of seconds when the service boy's stun ceased as suddenly everything just went black.

     "I know your thoughts, I know your desires, I can give you anything you wish for: all you have to do is to follow me. My loyal follower." The service boy found himself lying in a dark room with these words recurring in his ears. Suddenly, some figures started to appear in front of him. The first was his manager who has been always unfair to him and who gave him more work and less money. The wrath he felt towards him was growing deep inside. But a dagger came out of nowhere and hit the figure of the manager in the chest. Another figure followed, but this time of the service boy himself, wearing expensive clothes and eating at an expensive place and enjoying rains of banknotes pouring over his head. He has never been satisfied with his life and always had these greedy thoughts to have all the money he can get. His mouth even began to drool more once another figure appeared of himself lying on a very fancy bed in a very luxurious room, doing nothing all day, with lots of servants around him, doing nothing but pampering him and serving a comfortable sloth, with lots of types of food delineated over long tables, a gluttony of having everything excessively. Abruptly this figure was replaced by the figure of him standing on a high building and all the people waving at him. The service boy sometimes had this thought that he is born better than others and that he deserves more than others. His pride even went far that even God is standing against him, being the cause of all his problems. Unexpectedly, a couple of women with stunning beauty and attractiveness penetrated through the whole scene, getting closer to him seductively and reaching their hands to him to join them, which caused him to jump before them out of lust like a pig running after a pile of rubbish. He keeps on running before them until he is hit by the figure of one of his colleagues. He has always carried feelings of envy towards this particular colleague for being successful at almost everything he does. The jealous wishes for him to fail and the grudge for every compensation that colleague takes and he does not keep on spreading inside him like a plague.
      Then comes the figure of that man, the room lodger, standing far away, looking down in despair. "I lost myself. Don't lose yours. I ran after desires, life pleasures, self-love, and hatred to others. And I got them all. But they were nothing but thin air .. With each sin I made a part of me was lost, a detail of my face was erased, and I became a walking dead. And I no longer knew my true self. I had this question if God exists, and I answered it, but it was a wrong answer. So I lost my life, my soul, and even my face, since all are not mine, but the Creator's, a fact I found out about but too late. Do not repeat my mistake, and save yourself. Do not disturb yourself by getting so indulged in life and so obsessed with your self for all are to demise and to stand for or against you in front of the Owner of all at the Day of Judgement. Do not disturb others by seeking what at their hands and by having a frozen heart while dealing with them. And do not disturb me for I got what I deserved." 
      With these words the darkness started fading, and light began to cover the whole room, so bright, with no more of such devilish figures, no more of such sinful disturbed thoughts, and no more of faceless, lifeless men. And the light became brighter and brighter, so bright to tolerate. "Helloo. Are you Okay?" said a voice that interrupted all such brightness. It was the man trying to wake up the service boy who slipped at the stairs in front of his door. The man is no longer faceless, or worse, lifeless. And the service boy is awake now, but better, awakened. 

Embrace Love, and Transcend...

   Love is a very powerful feeling. You see someone and you suddenly sense something inside. You do not know that it is love at the time, you actually never know that it is love until so much later. You just feel that feeling. That strange undescribable lovely painful captivating paradoxical feeling. You found someone special, someone of value in your life, someone whose existence is somehow related to yours. You want to know more about him, you want to be always in his presence, you want to talk to him, and you want him to feel the same. Then, you find yourself totally preoccupied with his lovely image, sometimes like a shapeless spectrum, and the other with every single adorable detail. All printed inside your mind, thinking about him, a lot, and about yourself with him, and about himself with you.

    You feel that he is so close to you already, with much and much in common, like some unknown brother/sister, like a soulmate, like a mirror reflection of yourself. You even start to feel that he looks so like you, mentally as well as physically, the same preferences, the same movements, even the same smile and facial expressions. You start to doubt his reality, to doubt your feelings, but they are just so real. And you cannot escape from a recurring thought, that this person and yourself are a unified entity, a whole one.

    The issue with love is that although it binds 2 souls together, it does not necessarily bind the 2 bodies as well. Yet love is never lost. Love is never turned into hatred, no matter what happens, no matter how bad you think you feel, about yourself, about that person. Love just stays there, so resistant, so resourceful, so powerful. 

    Believe me .. If you have ever sensed such feeling, if you have ever felt its ecstasy as well as suffering, if you have ever found that person, consider yourself lucky and blessed, and cherish every moment of it, whether it is a past or a present or even an unknown future, but never curse it. For you have found a truly genuine source of power. 

Cherish every piece of love for it is a distinct evidence that you are a true human being: with a heart not dead, a mind not empty, and a soul not alone. Embrace love, and transcend...

A Reflection on "A Harmful Love"

On A Harmful Love, a reader reflects:

"That state of love
That piece of writing

Expressive
...
In a nonreciprocal love story
Both are not at ease
The one in love tries hard to hide his feelings but fails
The eyes are no secret keepers
And the tongue is on the side of the enemy
While the one on the end of the line
Is at bewilderment
Does he/she love me?
Should I keep her away?
But I really enjoy the company
He feels what she feels because true love can't be hidden and it finds its way
But.. We human beings act foolishly until the mouth says its word
And even then, we don't value what we have until we lose it
Nothing good happens at the end of a nonreciprocal love
Both are hurt, both are not at ease.."

Author's note: I thought of posting such reflection since I found its words conveying some sense of wisdom, some sense of experience, and some sense of advice, as well as an invitation to think and re-think.

A Harmful Love

     Today I couldn't take it anymore. You've always haunted me, but this time you totally occupied me. Your figure is fixed in front of my eyes wherever I look, your voice is fixed inside my ears whatever I do, and your whole presence is fixed all over my mind whoever I deal with. Even the dreams, you are just always there! An unmerciful captivation, an unfair preoccupation.

     I tried to escape from you like I always do, so I somehow broke into my dream, woke myself up, jumped from under the blankets, to out of bed, in such freezing cold, and submerged my head under a tap of running icy water, hoping that by this I would come back to reality, the reality that you are not there, that you are not mine, that we cannot be together, that I'm not even sure if you know about all this or if you share at least a little of it with me.

     I know you know how I feel. You have the upper hand because I gave it to you once I let you get close to me. So close, closer than ever anyone did. I know from a distance I'm that kind of mysterious fellow, and that people do not feel comfortable with anything they find mysterious, anything they do not know about. And I am comfortable with that, like a defensive mechanism to avoid getting hurt, to avoid the treachery of the people, to avoid the falsity of this life. But once you get close enough, you'd find out that this mystery is nothing but an open book, and I know you already read it.

     The way I look at you, that way I speak with you, even the way I quarrel with you because of a 'quarrelless' cause, you knew where they are coming from, and once you got sure, you even tried to extract the 3 words from me. But like you've always been vacillating about me, some day you are so near and the other you are so far, I've always been trying to hide all this from you, because I just knew that this kind of love is a harmful one. It is not meant to go to the next level, due to multiple complicated reasons, but it is to keep me stuck on it, like some kind of a curse. Why did I even love you from the first place? How was such seedling planted in me and let to grow out of nowhere while it is not meant to be turned into a huge tree of evergreen leaves and infinite branches? What is the Wisdom behind making my heart get so attached to something that is not just mine?

I found love in a loveless place, but I wish I had never found it. Not that kind of love. Not that harmful love...

The Camp Fire

The desert never looked more beautiful, the night never looked more cheerful, and the stars never looked more shiny. And here we are, sitting around this camp fire, wishing its warmth cover us and its flames carry us away, far from ourselves, far from the ordinary, far from the disciplinary.

Carpets of sand are all what we tread upon, mixed with lonely shy stones, sinking into the grit once touched by our feet. And the mountains and hills like a Colosseum stand, all around us, keeping an eye on us, an eye of protection, an eye of inspection.

The desert weather is a known cliche: scorching in the day as well as at night, one from the heat and the other from the cold. However, this night looks different, for the scorch seems to be searing, and mildness is taking its place.

The cars and tents and gear and supplies, all are kept at near, yet for once the spot light deviates away from them and is spotted above our glow, in the circle around the camp fire. Sitting together, side by side, like a finely crafted necklace, even glittering like one, a reflection of both our leather clothes and our wide open eyes.

The camp is set, and so are we, but one single detail is missing. The camp fire is still burning, but wood is not its only fuel. The flames are giving a mute scream, to me so loud, but the louder scream profoundly remains inside. 

Utter Freakin' Chaos!

Beginning to feel uneasy about the amount of disorganization and mess in this place. Used to be able to go with the flow, to lean with the hard curves, to dive into the fierce waves, and to detect a pattern in an environment of utter freakin' chaos! But not any more..

Seems that I am losing this ability. Seems that my capability of handling disorder is diminishing. Seems that I am losing grips of it all. And seems that the urge for self-respect is itching ... provokingly!

Some people kept on telling me that this is not the place for me, that I do not fit into living in this territory of madness, the same as a piece of art would not fit into a pile of dirt. Some even told me that people of my kind are so rare these days, especially in this chaotic nonsense. Qualities like kindness and respect and honesty are so much appreciated and valued and wanted, but not here! And I am beginning to believe them...

"You are living in your own world!" Utopia does not exist, but so is Dystopia! All I am asking for is a world with more goodness than evil, and people with more humanity than animality. Is that too much to ask for??

Near and Far

Sometimes I feel you are getting near to me, so near to become even part of myself. I really love the idea and how it feels, so I ignore all the calculations in my head and I disregard all the societal and even commonsense rules in this world we are living in to become so near to you, nearer than I ever thought I would. Then I lose myself .. I just lose it all, all for your lone sake. Then I become occupied, totally occupied with you all over inside me. And at this point you no longer become near to me, for the laws of distance and matter become broken all of a sudden, and you and me become just one entity. Or that's what I think we become, at least for a good while...

Other times I feel you are far, so far to reach. A mirage in the desert, and I am the thirsty traveler. And so after you become close, enough to be in solid contact, you just pull yourself away, you withdraw and leave me lost in an endless maze of mixed thoughts and questioned feelings. Some mysterious force appeared without reason, without planning, without any know-how. Whether it is right or wrong, proper or improper, leading to somewhere or not leading to anywhere, it just appeared, and it is attracting the 2 poles together. Or at least that's what one of the poles believes...

Perplexing enough, it just goes on and on.

Confusing enough, nobody has any idea what's going on.

Enigmatic enough, no one controls it, and it seems run-on.
I'm not really sure who you are, what you are or where you are,
Yet all I know is that I want you there, being near or even far...

A Piece of a Puzzle

This life is strange. So strange. I don't know whether it's life, or it's the people, or maybe it's me. I'm no longer sure. Not sure about anything... 
Sometimes you feel that you got it all, that life became so comprehensible, that people became so predictable, and that your self became no longer a mystery. Yet, that does not last for long, does it?! The people you think highly of think that they are faulty, and the self you think to be faulty is thought of very highly. You look into others, without them knowing it, and others look into you, without you knowing it. You look up to someone: if I just have what you have; but that someone somehow looks up to you too: take what I have but give me this thing you have! You give advice to others while you're the one in dire need for it, and you are given advice by others though they are in no better case than yours. Running circles, chasing dreams, hurling after the mirage of a faraway ocean while being already surrounded with lots of ponds and lakes and rivers. No wonder why you are always thirsty for more! A non-practicing preacher!
What's bothering you? A missing piece of a puzzling life? What if we are all pieces of the same puzzle? And what if there is no puzzle from the first place? The wonder continues, and the puzzlement goes on and on...

It Is in the Eyes

    There are some sorts of things which are worth telling but cannot be told, worth writing about but cannot be written. They originate from the heart, then move to the mind to be processed in the form of words, then somehow the mind finds them unprocessable so they are sent back to the heart, but they become a load on the heart, specially if they keep on piling up, and therefore the ailed heart finally decides to send them to the eyes, where looks and gazes are the only comprehensible language, a desperate measure to say what you want to say when you simply cannot say it, and sometimes even when you do not want to say it. However, neither does everybody know about such internal process, nor does everyone understand this unspoken language, but it happens, all the time.

     It is in the eyes, all what you are looking for. A word can carry only its meaning, but a look can carry books of meaning. The heart almost always says yes for it is fearless, and the mind almost always says no for it is reasonable, while the eyes do not speak, for they are truthful. A look can be so revealing, so plain and obvious. Yet unlike a thought or a feeling, it can be so easily captivated, so easily deceived. And in the inner mind-heart-eye conflict, the upper hand almost always goes to the voice of reason, for it is the most authentic of all three. However, reason does not always get the last word, does it?!

     So you run and run, away from confrontation, mainly for the fear of getting hurt. And you sit there, imagining a million of scenarios, though you know very well how things will go eventually. Your mind is overwhelmed, your heart is aching, and your eyes are closed. No one knows anything about what you are passing through, but what about you? Do you really know what others are passing through? So open your eyes. Maybe the things you considered so much alive are already fading, and maybe the things you considered already dead are so much sprouting, but not through words, spoken or written, but through just a look in some sincere eyes. 

حكاية عم صابر..اللواء

     حكاية عم صابر (اللواء)... من الإسم أول شيء ممكن يخطر على بالك هو صورة راجل غلبان و عجوز، إدى للدنيا أكتر مما أخد، و دي أكيد حكايته مع بهدلة الأيام و إزاي فضل صابر و راضي و فضل بطل قصة الكفاح الطويلة المستمرة حتى النهاية السعيدة المتمثلة في صورة توتالة بتضم عم صابر و أولاده و أحفاده و هما مبتسمين و رافعين علامة النصر. للأسف أحب أقولك إن انت أبعد ما يكون عن مضمون الحكاية... خيبت ظنك شوية معلش، بس إيه رأيك تحاول مرة تانية؟

    هتركز أكتر في العنوان فهتلفت نظرك كلمة ’اللواء‘. و هتقول لنفسك: "إزاي مخدتش بالي من الكلمة دي و انا بقرأ العنوان أول مرة. هو أنا دايماً مندفع كده؟!" .. ’اللواء‘ .. ده أكيد كان لواء في الشرطة مثلا و حصلت معاه مشاكل خلته يسيب الخدمة أو يتقاعد أو ممكن يكون كمان حصلتله حادثة ضيعت فلوسه أو صحته أو أسرته، ولكن برضه فضل بطل لنفس قصة الكفاح الطويل اللي انتهت بيه بنفس الصورة التوتالة و هو بيبتسم و رافع علامة النصر .. برضو!

     أنا مش عارف إيه حكايتك بصراحة مع الصور التوتالة أو مع علامة النصر و إيه سبب حبك الشديد للقصص الدرامية اللي بتيجي في البرامج و المسلسلات، فهخيب ظنك تاني و أقولك جلّت منك برضه المرة دي. غالباً هتبتدي تجيلك بعض المشاعر المتضاربة اللي أغلبها سلبية عن نفسك و عن الحكاية و عن قصص الكفاح و حتى عن عم صابر بذات نفسه (ومش بعيد عني أنا شخصياً!). بس تداركاً للموقف هقولك إن التفكير في أي شيء بنقابله على أساس الصورة النمطية اللي متعودين عليها ده شيء طبيعي و موجود عند كل إنسان. والاندفاع برضه حاجة أنا نفسي ساعات كتير بقع فيها، فهون على نفسك و على حكايتنا و على عم صابر (و عليّ أنا كمان أكيد)، ويلا بينا نشوف مين عم صابر ده.

     دي حكاية بلطجي .. أيوة، بلطجي. صابر اللواء في يوم من الأيام كان الملك وكل اللي في المنطقة التابعين بتوعه؛ طول ما هما بعيد عنه و ضلهم مابيفارقش الحيط، سلموا من شره، بس لو طلعوا بعيد عن الحيط، اتكووا بناره. عنف وخناقات وسرقة و ترهيب وتعاطي ومزاج و سمسرة وعلاقات وتظبيط. وكله عيني عينك، واللي مش عاجبه يعترض، بس يستحمل اللي هيجراله! وعن أقذر الألفاظ و السباب (بالذات سب الدين) محكيلكش. مسك الدنيا بإيديه و لعب بيها بقوته و نفوذه، بس نسي إنها دنيا غرورة، و إن دوام الحال من المحال. نسي إن القوي مش إنسان، ده خالق الأكوان. و في ليلة، في لحظة، خسر قوته ونفوذه. وبعد ما كانت إيديه مسكة الدنيا مسك، وقعت الدنيا من إيده و مسك بدالها عكاز!

      و أديه قاعد على دكته اللي في الشارع، يبص على الرايح واللي جاي. يتحسر على نفسه  و على أيام افتكرها دايمة، على أفعال افتكر نفسه هرب من حسابها، و على دنيا افتكرها طوع أمره. بس ده بيبقى للحظات قليلة. ما بقاش فيه حيل للخناق و الزعيق، بس لسة فيه حيل إنه يدمر نفسه. لسه بيحشش، لسه بيسب و يلعن أهل ده و دين ده، لسه جواه صابر اللواء كبير المنطقة .. كبير المنطقة اللي العيال الصغيرة بيحدفوه بالطوب دلوقتي. لسه متعلمش حاجة و معتبرش. لسه ظلوم و جهول لنفسه قبل غيره. ولسه ربنا بالنسبة له اسم مابيذكروش إلا عند السباب أو الحلفان كذب. وبرضه لسة قاعد على دكته بيبص على الرايح والجاي. وهيفضل يبص، لحد ما تجيله ليلة تانية، لحظة تانية، بس المرة دي مش الدنيا بس هي اللي هتقع من إيديه، ده العكاز كمان...

20 Ways to Win a Sweetheart

20

Listen as if you care, and if you don't want to, just pretend .. it always works

19

Talk, sweet talk, hypocrite talk, tender talk, strong assertive talk, even nonsense talk .. show her that she got competition

18

Lie

17

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, a relative matter .. However, it is a thing to continuously admire, or else!

16

Be the prince and crown her the princess

15

Be there when needed

14

You are the bodyguard .. just make sure nobody gets killed in the end!

13

Presents! They are so lovin' it!

12

 Two things to keep the heck away: your internet password and most importantly, your wallet!

11

She's your one and only guardian angel .. just tell other people so even if she's not, at least to ensure a good night sleep .. away from the coach or worse, the floor

10

Lie again!

9

Physicality is critical, even if she won't admit it

8

Bring your skills to the surface, any skills, any

7

In trouble, head towards the ears!

6
Responsibility is your fate, so grab it from now and get used to it

5

Forget about all what's written in books about them, and get real

4

En garde! .. other possible sweethearts

3

Just lie!

2

Act as if you understand her, even if you don't (and most probably you won't!)

1

Be yourself

Out of Mind, Out of Heart

Disclaimer. What is written next is not about you!

It is healthy sometimes to get crazy for a bit. It is recovering often to move from pole to pole, from ultimate sanity to utter insanity! It is worthy usually to live on the edge, one leg on solid ground and the other floating in the air. It is required once in a while to embrace forget of anyone and anything looking simply familiar. 

A single smile can hide a million of tears. A single wink can hide a million of insults. A single laugh can hide a million of daggers. And a single blush can hide rivers of blood! And here you are, standing but not withstanding. You have been playing fair, without knowing who the opponent is, who the judge is. And the whistle never really blew.

Stubbornness makes profanity and parting makes vanity. So you run away from the us, by departing the you in them. The vanquished is relinquished, sovereignty rights are claimed. Perseverance is irrelevant, resistance is futile. Out of sight, out of mind! And out of mind ... quod erat demonstrandum!

D for Dreams

Do our dreams have any meaning? Why are they even called dreams? The dreams of your sleep the same as  the dreams of your wake, the future, the past, and the present dreams and ambitions and expectations and hopes...

What if you dream of someone? What if someone dreams of you? Awake or asleep, will they ever know? And will you ever know? What is the point of dreams if they are not acknowledged, if they do not happen, if they are kept inside and not translated to the outside world?!

Dreams versus reality, ambitions versus reality, expectations versus reality, hopes versus reality, an ongoing struggle. But why there should be any struggle? Because life is not fair? Because life is pain? Because to err is human? Because you are just not good enough? Lame excuses and faulty beliefs. There is no struggle...

Dreams are so powerful that they can totally take over you, make you so obsessed to the extent of refusing reality, or ignoring it, or fighting it, or sometimes even fearing it. However, whether you like it or not, reality is just there. It is always there. It is life. You will be a fool if you think for a moment that by living in a world of dreams you can cheat reality. As much as it is the other's reality, it is your reality as well, no running, no escaping!

Everything has been created for a clear purpose, and everything happens for a Divine wisdom. And this surely applies to dreams like everything else. So dream but do not over-dream, and live but do not over-live. Dreams and reality, they just intermingle. Realistic dreams and dreamy reality, you have got a perfect match...

Suffocation

     You did the mistake that many of your ancestors had done, and many of your descendants will do, and now you are suffering from its consequences. Suffocated, strangled. The atmosphere is turning into airless vacuum, places are turning into dark boxes of solitude, and walls are jails of barbed wires, getting closer and closer, till they tear your flesh apart, till they get you totally crushed. And the people, they turn into hollow shadows, with no marked features, no faces, no details, just piles of dust surrounding you, staining you, infecting you till you turn like them. And you, you cry inside in pain, down in the cage of depression, your body responds with weakness, and your mind joins with numbness. Yet, you can feel it all: your lungs are not producing much oxygen, your chest is so contracted, and your heart....well, it is going bloodless! 
    You put your trust on a person you did not know well. You believed everything that person says, everything that person does. You believed in the best of him (or her!). You saw something in him and ran after it like a little child, till you got captivated. Like a puppet, you got manipulated, you got used, you got played with, and like a puppet, you faced one of three eventual fates: either you got broken and damaged, or you got thrown away, or you got put away, totally neglected, till dirt buries you alive. 
     You are the hero of your drama, and you keep on fighting and fighting, wars of words and wars of silence, wars of love and wars of hate. But like every hero, there comes a fall. And you fall a victim of your own hamartia. So down and below, at the land of depression, and the tunnels of suffocation... 

Do I Know You?

It is eye widening how you need time to really know the people you thought you knew, enough time, lots of time. It is also mind opening to look back at your previous decisions and see how wrong and short-sighted they were.

I can see you now without the makeup and glitters, a trivial, careless, arrogant, cold, selfish, playful, hypocrite, immature, deceiving type of person. I can see why I once chose you and was amidst taking the serious decision to fight the world for you. I can see that between your sugary words and captivating smiles and tender voice, there were other intentions deep behind: there is nothing special about you, but I just needed you to fill up an empty spot that's all; you're not intended to complete me and I'm not intended to complete you, or anybody, and love, love is only a game of hearts, while soul mate and for better and worse and happily ever after, well, you'd better give up on those, for they are only some silly romantic ideas woven by the worn out fabrics of your naive imagination! I can see why I stopped, I suddenly stopped, to have a moment to think it over, for there are signs that cannot be ignored.

I can see you, but have I ever really seen you? I can see you, but have you ever seen me? I never put makeup, I never wore glitter, and never will, yet still you aren't seeing me, are you? Or perhaps you are seeing me but only the way you want to see me, a step to tread upon, a doormat to wipe your dirt on, a shadow to cover your insecurities, and another man falling behind. We have a man down! MAYDAY, MAYDAY! I think he got hit (by me, but who cares!). I think he needs help. He was trying to help me and then he fell. I think he needs help .. Over! But he didn't know that I never considered a word he said, for what I want I will always get. It is so easy, and they are all the same. Easily distracted, easily controlled and manipulated. And I wanted him and I got him, and now it's time to get rid of him; his time is up, he's an old fashion to throw away, and his services are no longer required.
Hang on, for help is on the way ... Over!

The Wonder Box

When you are in the means of transport and you discover the faces of the people around you, and your eyes hike over the hard hills of their complexion, all pulled down and deep inside or up and far outside, all silent, all gloomy, mostly wishing to find a way to escape reality, to have a break from life, and death, to lose count of time, so you find them listening to songs, or to Quran, or to the radio, reading a book or newspaper, playing games on the mobile phone, or checking the Internet or Facebook, looking through the window but for not really seeing anything particular, at least with their eyes, for their mind is most probably occupied, and their mind's eyes are contemplating some past event or some present issue or some future concern, and their facial expressions could change in some moment of spontaneous madness, no matter how hard they try to hide it, one moment it is a smiley face, the other it is totally grumpy, then back to the poker face, and of course there also remains the option of checking the people around back and forth, trying to figure out who they are and what they think about, an attempt not to breach their privacy, for you already value yours very much, but to get closer to them, to their essence, and consequently to yours, lots of scenarios, rarely correct, scarcely of any good sense, but a means to pass time, to get transported from one stop to another, and from one wonder box to another.