Social Networking Wisdom of the Day

"If I need to look at your pictures (and even more than one!) to remember who you are, then it was probably a bad idea to send me a friend request."

Objects in the rearview mirror are *much* closer than they appear

"You are so terribly nimble, so clever. I distrust your cleverness. You make a wonderful pattern, everything is in its place, it looks convincingly clear, too clear. And meanwhile, where are you? Not on the clear surface of your ideas, but you have already sunk deeper, into darker regions, so that one only thinks one has been given all your thoughts, one only imagines you have emptied yourself in that clarity. But there are layers and layers -- you're bottomless, unfathomable. Your clearness is deceptive. You are the thinker who arouses most confusion in me, most doubt, most disturbance."
~Anaïs Nin, August 1932 "Henry & June"

The second time I refer to Anaïs and her H&J today, but well..

I find patterns amusing.. not always good/happy, but always amusing. Same time last year I thought about patterns, and then accused myself of jumping too soon to conclusions, of categorizing, stereotyping, etc etc.

This time I see them again, I can sense the air, and I find it cynical, this "self defense against self defense" as it was called by the other. But there is nothing I can say or do about it. Complaining, commenting, requesting, confronting, it won't get you any where. Ignoring, avoiding, denying, well it might get you nowhere, but it will get you there with the remains of the day, and the dignity..

Cute and sort of childish how I sound so serious and mysterious.. I need to go back to being the Scheherazade of storytelling... and I do have stories to tell.


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مرايتي يا مرايتي

راح أحكيلك حكايتي

قوليلي انو أنا

أحلى وحده فيهن

أنعم وحده فيهن

شوفيني وما تشوفيهن

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my space doesn't look like mine anymore! the color scheme and the post style, the pictures and the lyrics.... but it feels more like mine than it ever did.

Delusional Promises

مسكتيلي إيدي ووعدتيني بشي ثورة، كيف نسيتي؟ كيف نسيتيني؟

!ومشطتيلي شعري وبعتينيي عالدوام، كيف بتمشطي؟ مشطيني

L'insoutenable légèreté de l'être

I have a confession.
Sometimes I feel an incredible lightness by letting go.
This is not the confession.

I deny this feeling and this lightness, for fear it might mean I can finally float, and I stick to an illusion and claim it my reality.
This is the confession.

I find it unforgivable when I am denied this fear.

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"I've met another man. He's the best man I've ever met. He's bright, handsome and he's crazy about me. And, he's married. There's only one thing; he doesn't like my hat."

The Castle in the Pyrenees: of love and coincidence

"Le Château des Pyrénées" by René Magritte

"Can we make a solemn promise to delete every email we send each other after we've read them? I mean straight away, right then and there, and that naturally means no printouts either....We will step outside time, leave what we call ‘reality’."

~ Jostein Gaarder, The Castle in the Pyrenees

For Steinn and Solrun, the Internet is their reconnection, the means by which they rekindle what was lost so long ago. This is probably the seventh novel I read for Gaarder, and I am again captivated by his storytelling, by his views on the universe, our footprint on the planet, and definitely on love. I get lost inside the stories within stories. I am still in the beginning, but I know it already got to me.

and then she tells him (referring to the painting above):

" But perhaps you're blind. Perhaps you're both narrow-minded and short-sighted.

Do you remember that Magritte picture of a huge lump of rock floating above the ground? I think it had a small castle on top. You can't have forgotten that picture.

But if you'd witnessed something similar today, you would certainly have tried to explain it away. Maybe you'd have said it was a trick. That the rock was hollow and filled with helium. Or that it was supported by an ingenious network of invisibly pulleys and wires.

I'm a much simpler soul. I would probably just have raised my arms to the boulder and sung out my 'hallelujah' or my 'amen'."

...and thus speaks the emotional to the rational. They are lovers who were separated by space and time, meeting again -by coincidence or some universal masterplan- after 30 years. Trying to understand each other, trying to understand what drove them apart.

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"It's strange to think about now. That was before I believed in anything. But only just before."