The Mania

Too many things to do is good sometimes. So other times, however, it's bad! Simple, yes? No. I am pressured. I will be pressured till the end of the semester and then, I will miss being pressurd. It's really sad. Why cant there be something in the middle...like being a part-timer at uni or something? Taking things slow? Now, of course dad wont allow that! I have to get through my studies and this and that. That's what life's all about.
I just need to take a deeeeeep breath and tell myself that everything is going to go just as planned. I will do the work on time. I will go to classes early morning because it's important. I will write my essays even if I dont want to. And so on. Get through the semester. It's sad, though, because if only I had a little time to breathe it would have been "living the semester" which, in my perspective, is a much better thing to do that just waiting for the semester to stop being hectic. Or to end!
I am happy. I am not only convinced that I am happy, but I am happy. Why am I happy? It's becuase I like being happy, it makes me smile! Gogo says: I belive in god, the thought makes me smile. Now, I believe in happiness because the thought of having a good thing in life makes me smile.
A friend says happy people are stupid people who want to convince themselves that it will be OK. They are people who want to be comfortable, and that's it.
I might be stupid...I'm not sure. One thing I know, though, is that I am only satisfied with what I am, and what I become, and how I change. I am not satisfied with so many things the world brings. At least, though, I am satisfied with the energy inside of me.
Mmeh, I'm boring.

دخان

اليوم رسمت دوائر من الدخان
كما كان يفعل
عندما يفكر،
و أحسست بالشكل يتلاشى
في الفضاء
كما الاحساس في صدر
أبى أن يصادق الهواء النقي.
اليوم نظرت بأعين مسافرة
كما كان ينظر
حين يملأه الحنين إلى عالمه الخاص
و تذوقت الحنين
لعالم بدونه.

تنام

لا تعرف ماذا تفعل،

ليس هناك شيئاً تفعله،
فتنام.
لا تريد أن تفكر،
ولا تريد أن تتذكر
أو تتألم
فتنام.
على أمل أن تتركها أحلامها
في سلام.
على أمل أن تموت
أو تموت الآلام،
تنام.

13 2006يوليو

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?