Of Cats and Me

When cats like a person, since they cannot speak, the only way they can express it is through "gifts"... They could bring you a cockroach they caught, or some toy mouse, or -in the case of a friend of mine- a real baby mouse, from outside into your own home, as a token of love and appreciation. They will present it to you with a look of pride, as in "look what I caught for you", and wait to be praised by you... The hunter in them never goes away with being domesticated...

I tend to do the same.. What I cannot express with words (for whatever reason), I would bring to your doorstep in the form of goodies and treats, a chocolate, a cookie, a random book I want you to have, a small piece of ambre I thought smelled nice, random post-its..

I am more like cats than humans and proud of it.. At least we display our affection and we're true about it.

Stupid..

I don't mind you know.. The distance, the dryness, the aloofness.. I really don't.
It does hurt a little but, eventually, everything fades. I might even re-read this and forget what I meant or how I felt.

I know that in the grand scheme of events this will be nothing..

Just don't make me feel stupid. This I do mind.

Reality Sucks...

I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.

~ Anaïs Nin

and to answer an old question:
Are we factually as daring as we “literary” are?
Are we all seeking ecstasy – quasi masturbating – with liberating literature or art, and disregarding – whether consciously or dreamingly – our limitations in reaching “neverland”?

I did, you did, we did.. We dreamt of neverland, and we started creating it. But reality is harsh, and it turned a dreamy neverland into a castle of ashes, another form of shackling reality.. So we were escaping from one cage into another, with the illusion of escape... We promised to float, "etre en mer", but we were weights pulling each other down to drown..

Oh well, reality sucks.. sucks the life out.

my friend

sometimes the smallest things, such as wearing matching Converses, is a reassurance.

I miss who we used to be :)

Tired of Small Talk

Apathy

Apathy (also called impassivity or perfunctoriness) is a state of indifference, or the suppression of emotions such as concern, excitement, motivation and passion. An apathetic individual has an absence of interest in or concern about emotional, social, or physical life. He or she may exhibit an insensibility or sluggishness, also. The opposite of apathy is flow. In positive psychology, apathy is described as a response to an easy challenge for which the subject has matched skills.


To be continued..

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يفهم_ قال لي_ إنّ الوطن

أن أحتسي قهوة أمي

أن أعود في المساء..

سألته: و الأرض؟

قال: لا أعرفها

و لا أحس أنها جلدي و نبضي

مثلما يقال في القصائد

و فجأة، رأيتها

كما أرى الحانوت..و الشارع.. و الجرائد

سألته: تحبها

أجاب: حبي نزهة قصيرة

أو كأس خمر.. أو مغامرة

_من أجلها تموت ؟

_كلا!

و كل ما يربطني بالأرض من أواصر

مقالة نارية.. محاضرة!

قد علّموني أن أحب حبّها

و لم أحس أن قلبها قلبي،

و لم أشم العشب، و الجذور، و الغصون..

_و كيف كان حبّها

يلسع كالشموس ..كالحنين؟

~ محمود درويش، جندي يحلم بالزنابق البيضاء ~

(excerpt)

c'est secret, lui dites pas que j'vous l'ai dit

On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous

Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout

Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,

Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou

Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore,

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore.

Serais ce possible alors?