On Wisdom

Wisdom. Tricky.

Some people are so interested in ideas, new ideas, new thoughts, new music. They want to see the world and learn everything.
I used to be like that. My best-friend called me Freshy then, because I was *fresh*.

I'm not that fresh anymore because it's only wise not to want too much, it's only wise to let life give you what it wants to give you *when* it wants to give you. No rushing is wise.

Wise people seldom know that they're wise people. Some people who have some wisdom act wise but are, in fact, acting wiser than they actually are.

And like that, I see lots of people advising others, and trying to show them the right path. I definitely cannot deny that I myself do a bit of that. I can't stand watching when someone's about to drink soup I know is too hot for a tongue to endure. Sometimes I don't take into consideration the fact that different people react differently to their surroundings. One thing, though, I rarely advise, or warn anyone out of confidence in *me*, or lesser confidence in them.

And I discover:
Just let it take you, OK? Just let it take you and only live day by day.

A few things that've been going on.

When people get close to one another, they start worrying more about losing that relationship that they have, and it makes them worry sick.
Relax.
It's all a part of the divine plan :D
And years later I'll remind you of a new country that we didn't add on the list, that's not getting old, because new countries keep showing up, and other countries freakin disappear!

Alexandria is so beautiful when you know people there, and make memories with places.
The sea is amazing, but I can never live by the sea for more than 4 days. For me, the sea is a phenomenon that needs studying and examining. The sea is like having three weeks without the sun, or maybe it's more like spending whole days without eating. Being next to the sea for too long messes up my whole system.

I love Alexandria. It's a pretty pretty city, with lots of people who have shiney eyes.
You always find extra-shiney eyes in places that are on the sea, I believe that people who live next to the sea are all infected with some kind of slight lunacy. The sea is really a natural phenomenon...like freakin volcano's.

And now I'll remember Alexandria with a little bit of Lebanon in it, and a little bit of a girl who was was, is a little a sad, and might never be sad again if only chance lets her feel otherwise. Chance seems to be on her side, though...or God.

This Ramadan, I managed to forget that there's such a thing as Ramadan, and it was so beautiful. I just felt that some places are closed because of some special ritual, and less people smoke during the day. I managed to only drive during Iftar time, or very late at night. Ramadan passed and I didn't see it- exactly what I want.

My sister is one year older and she still doesn't understand why I don't fast. Last year I had a post about that. This year, she doesn't understand why I don't fast, but she gave up on asking. Maybe she learned something, asking the same question frequently doesn't automatically grant answers, or at least true ones.

Have you ever felt a love that grows by day? I have. Love for the eyes, for the feel of the face. To be blind and have to touch the face, and try to hear the voice, to be deaf and just see the face for every little wrinkle that shows when he laughs.
This is called love that grows by day.

I'm not calmer, I just know how to handle my emotions better now.
And i'm not guilty of things I didn't do, and didn't plan on doing.

And I love that it rained today.
And I saw a friend that's been away for 4 months in the khalij, he is happy.

My flowers are sad because I don't water them as often now that I come home very late and leave very early in the morning.

I got flowers from the farm, pink flowers, and I'm drying them to take pictures of them soon.

Dead flowers are always photogenic as can be.

More than 100 strange things that you pass by every day, and never notice.

Today I went with a couple of friends to a shop I like to buy candles. I was buying a kind that doesn't last very long. K, Well it's not like you're going to use it anyway, right, it's decoration. Me, I use them, I use every single one of them. I hate electricity, it's an ugly-ass invention, except I love it because I love my computer. lol.
He said I was sentimental, which in fact I am. It's funny that now when I think about it, when I light my candles at night in my room, I never remember that outside my room everyone is using light-bulbs! It's strange. In my room with candles, nothing outside my room really exists, they're shadows. I'm not sentimental, but the candles give my room a surreal setting.

I was supposed to meet her. I don't know how to tell her. I don't know how to tell her that I love her, but that she can make parts of me die with her eyes, when she looks at me and she blames me. However I tried to make things better, she makes me lose my faith that I can change.
My 50 year old proff. is happy with his yellow submarine that I made him, he smiles at me when he sees me.
How come not everyone is like him, understanding of small love gestures?
Well I don't have the answer. Even worse, I doubt the existence of one, even outside of my own little stupid brain-cells.

Strange how you can love someone you exchanged a couple of words with, and hate someone you've knows for years. Strange how you can love someone you've known for years, and hate someone you exchanged a couple of words with. In fact, the strangest of all is when you compare two friends of yours, one whom you've knows for 8 months, and one you've knows for 5 years, and you find that your 8-month friendship is way warmer, and more cozy.
That's when I realize that time is shit, it's futile.

Strange how when I hold my hands together, I feel as if my left hand is feeling my right hand, and not one feeling the other. It make me doubt adequacy, if these two are so similar...

Being

Being.
Away from desires. Existing.
Like leaves. The dustiness of them, the greenness of them.
The sound they make when they scratch on eachother's skin.
Being sexless.
Dreams of existing as a human being but sexless,
Gone with the wind going north and south.
In childhood.
Away from desires. Existing.
But then again,
When the realization of desire blooms,
I ask.
Whether communication exists beyond self interest.
Whether knowledge, a little deeper than surface, of another
Exists.
No answer is satisfactory,
Like no question is logic-driven.

إيه الخرى دة؟

" Human reason has the peculiar fate in one species of its cognitions that it is burdened with questions which it cannot dismiss, since they are given to it as problems by the nature of reason itself, but which it also cannot answer, since they transcend every capacity of human reason".

Kant
Critique of Pure Reason.


(Shehab)
"Write after that "Eh el khara da"
Me: Why, you dont like what it says here?
Shehab: No, it's 100/100!"

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Shehab: Ata7adaki en 7ad yefham 7aga/
Bossi ya benti, Kant keda mel gomla el oola/
Bossi ahe gomla tany WESH!

"So far as morality is based on the conception of human being as one who is free but who also, just because of that, binds himself through his reason to unconditional laws, it is in need neither of the idea of another being above him in order that he recognize his duty, nor, that he observe it, of an incenive other than the law itself".

(It took me 10 minutes of reading, re-reading and finally Shehab helped me understand it!)

What sort of mistery might it solve...

Usually, I'm not for putting pictures on my blog, they're too attention grabbing and entertaining for the kind of blog this one is! (not for entertainment!) However, I decided to make an exception!

Today my mother and I were taking a walk in central park and I sit down on the bench near by to smoke. I look down and I see something written on the bench. I loved it. There's a picture.

Question to Self.

Isn't it a bit too early to notice the white elephants?

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I look at myself in the mirror and I know I see a completely different person than the one everyone sees. How can they see a white elephant?
There arent white elephants.

I hold my hands together tights when I watch happy couples go by and I wish that they wouldnt go into too much political discussion!

Many, many white elephants. Is Hemingway still alive?

Whatever the hell happened to cheesy romance stories.

What happened to cheesy romance stories in which people give so little importance to religion, political views, everything that keeps people apart? What happened to the romance stories in which two people are just obsessed with eachother, never talked about who's whose type, or what they could do better to fit the picture that the other person has of the parent of their children better? What happened to the cheesy night telephone calls and the weird small gifts that have absolutely no thought in them, the unoccasional flowers and love notes? Why did the term change from "waiting for the person" to "long-distance relationship" even though, supposedly, the world is now a global village? What happened to the love notes, or even emails that say abolutely stupid and silly things?

When will I believe that you can wake up to the same person every single day for more than 5 years and not get bored of them, as if they function as a part of your family?

The Fantacies

It's strange how some people's lives are all about a fantacy or a set of fantacies. I am not only talking about sexual ones, there are many other kinds. I met lots of these.

There's a man I know whose mind and thoughts circle around the forbidden fruit fantacy, sex with the mistress, away from all eyes. It's strange how nothing else will satisfy him, he will not try to enjoy anything else, either. It's as if his life is stopped till his fantacy comes true, and when it does, he continues looking for another one just like it, slightly different in the physicality maybe, but the same experience none the less.

There's a girl I know whose fantacy is to live like a monk, in the desert maybe, or the seaside. To runaway from all things that people are busy with in their every-day life. It's strange how she never wants it to come true, though. Perhaps the reason for her to want to keep it in a journal and not work for it is because it's so real in her mind that she wouldnt know how to live if she got there. Like the man, she refuses to enjoy anything not related to it, but unlike him, she doesnt want it to come true.

Now that I wrote this it makes me want to ask if I am putting my life on hold for a fantacy. And, are we all like that, except subconsciously?

Recognition of Stereotypes.

One of the reasons why I never read "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" is because I think it's stereotyping. Two of the married couples I know, though, the man blames the woman for everything. And thinks that she has a hand in the problem, whatever the problem is. Here's a thought; do stereotypes about men and women come from an extent of truth? Do men and women act according to these rules that were made based on other men and women, or were the rules made on the behavior of Everyman and Everywoman?

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.

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?

Forgiving

Forgiving. Or not. Forgetting, or not. When does forgiving stop being a virtue and start being a disease? When does it become addictive and destructive?
If someone slaps you, and you let them slap you on the other side, they might learn from it...from the fact that they had been mean to you and that you were good to them. But what if someone slaps you on one side and you let them slap you on the other one...so, they slap really hard it breaks your neck?
Forgivingness, and too much forgivingness...where do you draw the line?

And the questions IS:

Today I just watched this movie about a guy who works as a reporter in a newspaper. The guy fabricated over half of the articles he wrote there, they were funny and people didnt pay attention to the fact that these stories might not be at all real. He then got fired when he was caught and wrote a novel. He probably realized that fiction is only appreciated in certain places. The movie is called Shattered Glass.
Now the question is this: How much does the truth really matter?
The question is this: How much truth is from the heart, and how much fiction is from the heart?
If fiction is from the heart, it is the creation of imagination, imagination is the creation of impossibilities, the dreams, the fantacies. Imagination is what we want, not what actually happened. The question is: For what extent do we tolerate stories from the heart?

Bullshit.

Why cant we do that? Free ourselves of others' reactions? Free ourselves of ourselves? Why cant be exist without the consequences? Why cant we forget the cause/effect equation?

Why cant we free ourselves of the cases? The beliefs? The belongings and be? Just be? The infinite existing is exsiting with no limit to why and where and how. What if the strongest form of existence is when it's the only thing that matters? Why is survival considered settling? Survival because living is too hard is settling, but survival because it's simplest, is that settling, too?

I am cheesy and dorky and even "cheap" sometimes because I ask vague questions. I realized that. I realized that I am as unoriginal as manufactured cubes of plastic. The funny thing is, that doesnt even bother me. I like original people, I like genuine people but I survive not being genuine. I wish I could be as unoriginal as passing by unnoticed, sometimes.

I was thinking...the less original you are, the more people that love you actually love you. Because, if you are genuine, people have a reason to love you but if you are lame, people love you because you exist and that is the purest form of love. Jazz calls that "unconditional love"...loving someone not based on what they do for you, or what qualities they have, but because they exist and because you love them. It's as if love is a vicious circle in the sense that you love them because you love them. Now I ask myself this: do I know unconditional love? Did i ever experience unconditional love? I know there are people that I love no matter what they do. Only if they kill me will I stop loving them because then, I will stop existing! No matter what they do, I will love them. Now that thought troubles me because I dont know if someone feels this way for me. People require me to be a certain person in order to be loved...

The thought is .. yah.

Little Games.

Little games of life. We play little games.
I say: I forgot, I moved on. And the response is: I forgot, I moved on, too!
Which is weird. And selfish for me to think that people should not move on. Only I should move on because I was the hurt one, I was the one lied to and cheated on.
I have not forgotten little things. I have not forgotten guitar-playing and pizza. I still have monsters under my skin, not only under my bed.
He says, you have no more monsters under your bed. Who said so? Are the memories not monsters? Are the scars not monsters under my bed?
I do have monsters under my bed and I hear their breath before I sleep. I am not drama queen. I am not drama queen.
I get called a drama queen because I let it all out whatever it is. So, what should I do now?
Why can I not have a nice talk? Why can I not feel something comforting in the air? Why not?

Maybe I don't deserve intimate feelings anymore?
When did the lovers, ever, take the space of friends' intimacy?

Too many questions. Too many questions.

Dominant?

Yesterday one of my very best friends decided to sit and have a talk with me and my boyfriend (who is also HIS best friend). He said that I am too dominant, he said that I make Fou (bf) lose all the time he needs for his thesis for his masters. He said that I am making him too dependent on me, that I dont give him enough care. He said that it's my fault that this relationship "look" like a good one and that we are two separate people not one unit.
Now, we have to think about this for a second.
I'm dominant? Why am I dominant? Just because I don't act like the all-weak-always-sitting-next-to-her-boyfriend kind of girl?
Is is because I can sit wherever I want and say wherever I want and disagree with him? Because I dont just shut up and not say my opinion about anything?
Maybe,
The truth is, thought, I dont want to be one unit. I am Sara, and I love being Sara. I dont want to be anyone else or merge with anyone else- we are two different people who love each other. This does make us have a certain bouding, yes, but it does not make us one unit; simple, because we have two different sets of brain cells!
I was so angry yesterday...I didnt feel well about the performance and I was almost not going to get up on stage to begin with. Gogo just kept trying to make me feel less nervous. Obviously, that worked. It was a great performance and everyone said I did great.
Today I am a lot less angry about it. I will not say all what I have for the friend because I know why he said that- he's my friend since 9th grade and I know how sometimes his own insecurities just flood on others. At least, though, I know I am not what he claimed me. I am not just dominant for the heck of it and I am not a fan of having a submissive man and all that political shit.