Do not bother read this, it's me trying to get it out, that's all

Do not bother read this, it's me trying to get it out, that's all

The more true I try to get with her, the less she trusts me, the more she judges me and the more she discovers that I am not the daughter she dreamed of. The perfect daughter. She wants me to be the perfect woman, someone who puts morality above everything. As much as so many people think I'm a moral person, my mother thinks I am pragmatic and immoral.

She says, why would you go to a place that has shisha in it? Mother, she's an arab friend, they always have shisha's in their home. I dont like these kind of places and people, she replies.

What kind of places? What kind of people? Did she even ask what the hell we were doing? Did she even bother asking about what kind of things I do? What kind of person I am, or what kind of person I like myself to be.

She says she doesnt talk to me to judge me, but to ask me...Well, that's a wonder because the first line in the phone call was "Sara, I dont like your lifestyle", so much for asking!

In the middle of all this self-explanation I am supposed to do, I am also supposed to survive my mother thinking that I am an immoral hoe who doesn't care about anything, and survive my father who thinks that he needs to "tame" me, and reconstruct my personality.

My boyfriend who will not let go of a relationship I am not ready to have.

My best friend who doesnt understand that he hurts me in every other sentence he utters.

My other best friend who never called, and at the same time hates being called a traitor.

A dear friend who needs me, and does not understand that I need her too, and that we can help eachother.

University work that drains anyone, and rewards no one.

And, at the same time, I am also supposed to reconstruct my life, make peace with things that had hurt me, and try to be happy again...and find comfort in the solitude and absence of all the things I should but am not able to survive.

One's Own World.

I can help people, but I cant help myself.
I probably need someone to help me...but they're probably too busy getting my help.

I said I needed to get away, I needed to get away from everything and everyone...then I discovered that I had forgotten how to. I thought of getting away by being absent in the mind, it kind of works.

I still need to create my own world. I loved my own world. I miss it.

Once for Yourself, and Once for Your Dreams

Existing, I have to ask myself...what have I done with the years passed? What will I do with the years to come?
Will I ever fulfill childhood dreams, absurdities? Will I, ever?
It makes me scared to think that one day, I will have to be scared, and live life as if a phase of waiting. Live life as if the days are separate from one another, I just have to get through my days. It makes me scared.
The days to come.
Will there ever a given, something to hold on to? What will happen when I leave? Will I, really, come back?
What are the fact? Are there any?
Where's the guarantee that I will be happy? Where's the guarantee that I will enjoy life today, or tomorrow, or the days after that?
If I think that life is all there is, then I'd better make something out of it.
Once for yourself, and once for your dreams.

حياة

لو كنت لاسميها الآن

لكنت أسميتها حياة

لها نفس التقلبات

و عنف الأحاسيس

تلقي النكات بنفس الروح

الألم و الضحك

ممزوجان

تمشي بسرعة

و لكن بغير اهتمام

و تنام

ساعات النهار

لتعرف نفسها

في الظلام

Unpopular Beings

Today we went to Vlad's birthday, me and Gogo. A girl and a guy there clearly do NOT like us. They treat us like "locals" or even "natives", no idea why they do that...Gogo and I are not that traditional perse... but they do.
So anyway, Gogo is so troubled by it.
Didi, did we do something wrong, something that offended them?
No we didnt, they just dont like us, 3adi, the more you are yourself, the more people get to dislike you. (me)
Well, maybe we did something that offended them, like...I dont know just something, there must be a reason why they hate us.
I dont think so, I think they just hate us because we're really strange people and they are scared of trying new flavours.(me)

And that was it...
And the question is, Why care about people's opinion if your own opinion, and your close friends' opinion is much more valid? Why do you think your friends compliment you when, in fact, they are the ones who know you best?

Worshipping Dionysus

Taking theatre history this semester, and reading greek tragedy, I am thinking of worshipping Bacchus, Dionysus. The god of fertility and wine.
He makes perfect sense, he's a nice guy, he doesnt hurt people, all he preaches is for people to celebrate, celebreate everything, their inner minds, their existence...to let it all out.

I was reading a play called The Bacchae when I discovered that about him. Then I decided, why not worship that guy? He's not even omnipotent...there're other gods, who do NOT control fate. It makes perfect sense! It would explain a lot about how the world is.

The question is still in mind, I'm going ot have to think about it.

The Waiting

Time that is spent waiting is lost. That's why December is a lost month, it's in the waiting for a new year, with its new hopes. And that is why a month like October takes a bit too long, it's not waiting for anything.

Sometimes I think, maybe the reason why the years passed so quickly is because I was always waiting for something to happen. The waiting...

Today I went walking down the square when everyone was lazing out in their homes, on their couches, watching T.V. The streets were empty. I loved it.
Being in the street in Ramadan right after Iftar is like being in Cairo at 3 AM on a normal day. Empty streets give me space to admire the city for its own entity and essense.

The Online Life

Yesterday was a strange online day,
I find out that someone whom I now long (but not so long) ago recently moved into the same building as I! We bumped into eachother in the elivator, he only recognized me when I chaned my display picture into a new one with the new haircut. Talk about bumping into a complete stranger that you actually know!

On another online conversation,
A friend raises an important point, why do people think of sexuality in terms of genitalia? "If I love someone, I love someone, be it a man, or a woman, that's not the main point"...Now I call that a strangely unique way of going about things. Gogo calls it maturity. It's certainly strange.

A third online person is blabbering about all kinds of weird shit, and then he asks me to forget that I ever had this conversation with him.

Yesterday was my strange online day.

I wonder if people would say what they would say online in real life. It buggs me that the answer to that question is mostly "No!".

The Lebanon Mania

When the war first started in Lebanon I was so scared. I used to call a friend of mine in Beirut daily, I was scared to death. I thought was has never been so close to me. I was happy when I saw people walking around with Lebanon flags, I put the flag on my own blog. I was supportive, and I liked the fact that everyone was being supportive to the cause.
This was until I witnessed the Day for Lebanon held in my university. They were selling stuff all of which the money will go to Lebanon. They are sending one million EGP to Lebanon. My first reaction was: wow, that's good, then I started thinking about it.
Lebanon is in a much better economic state than Egypt, it's a much smaller country, too. The war has been going on for some 60 days only. Why all the propaganda?
War has been much much closer to me, it has been going on in Palestine for ages now!
Is it that it has been going on for long that we forgot Palestine, the never ending conflict?
I dont really know, but I was mad at myself. I support Lebanon, I wish there was something I can do. I am scared for Lebanon and lebanese people, especially my friends there and my friends' family but, this is mere propaganda. Having pop stars sing for a country not their own this is just media BS.
I will keep the flag on my blog because I love Lebanon, but I wish we wouldnt take it too far that it would become unfair for Palestine, for instance, or Iraq...places that need much more attention.

Blabbering Around

So today,
"Gogo, are you OK? You didnt seem OK today."
"Oh no, I'm OK. Why doesnt everyone say I am not OK?" silence and then she continues "Am I OK?"
"You tell me", I say.
"Oh, I think I'm OK"

lol.

That's one strange conversation, I guess.

See, I dont know if I'm OK, either. I do not. I will not pretend to be that I'm OK when I'm not. I have stuff stepping on my toes. The problem is, I dont even know what is bothering me. It's as if all of a sudden I abandoned myself and stopped thinking about my problems and try to reconcile. I abandoned myself.
I abandoned myself.
I abandoned myself.

I do not like myself being different. I liked myself better when I was happier, and less chained. I think that my life has to go on a cycle of happiness, and numbness and then sadness and so on. It goes on like this forever, and it pains me to realize that I never learned to stope that cycle.
I dont know how to stop myself from being down.
I dont know how to.
I dont know if I can.

Part of the reason why I am not happy is that not only I abandoned me, people also abandoned me. People gave up on me. I have this stupid silly feeling of having people not caring whether the hell I am alive or dead. I mean, not to that extent but, not caring enough about my emotional well-being. They never had to think about it, because I was almost always strong enough to survive these things, and really fast, too. People think I'm strong, and that's why they leave me to deal with my own problems...even though i never claimed to be strong.
I never claimed to be strong.

There's a point of writing this, it makes me feel better.

Puzzle

Were we not,
Pieces of the puzzle
Put together once again?
All the little details that did not matter,
And all the little details that did.
The sweat I hate by morning
Turning into the effort of tasting life.
The perception through which love is an image
Reviving in every taste, smell and touch.
Was it not morning and day in the same hour,
Summer and winter in the same season?
Sun that rises to spread heat
Between your ribs,
And winter rain as evidence
For passion that landed not so quick?
The difficulty of leaving your soul behind.
It is the hug and the separation,
It is desire and rejection.
It was growing up like children playing
Into adults that long for intimate moments.
Finally, that look in your eyes,
Time stops, it waits for you.
The beat of your heart, the drum.
We lived and once again we die.
We separate like puzzle pieces,
Puzzled.


(This is the "raw" poem. It has not been edited by my official editor quite yet :D )

The Joy of Being Underground

Today, i discovered why popularity is a curse when I went to ForsoothSayer's blog and saw her Ramadan-hating post. OMG! 60 something comments, people almost beating the hell out of each other, angry voices! I just looked down and wished that these people never ever bump into my little humble ramadan-hating post. I realized how safe it is not to be on stage...I keep forgetting it, but now I remember it again: The higher you are, the easier it is for you to be shot. So here I am ranting all over again about my experiences and my this and my that for a very few people who actually read my post till the end. And it's how I like it- especially with my new extra cheesy national colors blog and stuff of the side lol.
The truth is, I never liked the spotlight. I could still admit I'm a coward.

A Riddle in Poetry

You wanted a hint, I’ll give you a hint.
They are the lines that rhyme
When you wake up early morning.
They are the rhythm of knowledge
That you will never reach,
What keep you warm,
What leave you to sink in
Brown leaves.
They never come too close,
Never gone too far.
They keep you company
Since you were born,
And until you die.
What are they?