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?

uncertainty..

So, Carpe Diem or Memento Mori?
I'm sorry, I have no answer to that one.
I only know that Vita Brevis.
Il y a les vivants, et ceux qui sont en mer.
Je suis en mer. I'm a son of uncertainty.

ارتباك الأدوار

"عند رحيل المستحيلة.. خلفت وراءها سوساً ناخراً أعماق كل اكتمال نابت"

Chinese Wisdom of the Day

"My memory of you is better than you."

~ Lao Tzu

Secret Message from Salomé

"If you have no more happiness to give, give me your pain."

~ Lou Andreas-Salomé

Waiting

The song I came to sing
remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing
and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true,
the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony
of wishing in my heart.....

I have not seen his face,
nor have I listened to his voice;
only I have heard his gentle footsteps
from the road before my house.....

But the lamp has not been lit
and I cannot ask him into my house;
I live in the hope of meeting with him;
but this meeting is not yet.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Your Otherness

I am reminded by your "otherness" so much so that it expands and fills up all the void around us, sucking up all the air. I try to see the likeness, the similarity, to look for the old familiarity, but the otherness is louder, highlighted, magnified. And too hard to ignore. And I don't know if it's my mind playing tricks, or if you really make it a point to point it out. "I am one, you are the other" or "I am the other, and you are the one" (but not the one)

Your otherness in the sense of what I am and you are not.
Your otherness in the sense of what I am not and you are.
Your otherness in expressing Divine love, and me expressing Divine Order.
Your otherness in seeking peace through isolation, and not through connection.

Your otherness in finally accepting laws of nature, when I finally start to denounce them.
Your otherness in not being in my shoes, and not being part of my internal dialogue.

and so on, your Otherness.

On Forgiveness

"Le pardon n'est pas un outil de guérison de la blessure. Il n'est pas nécessaire à la libération de son passé. Il l'est en revanche à la restauration de l'intimité. Le pardon est un mouvement d'amour qui répare la relation ... Je crois en la capacité de chacun de s'ouvrir à l'autre. Je crois au pouvoir de l'empathie, de l'amour et de la parole dans la réparation des relations blessées."

Dear Universe

If you think you're going to break me by forcing me to listen to Mayada's Ana Ba3sha2ak in EVERY taxi ride, and stage it like it's a coincidence, then you're mistaken. You won't break me.

Overheard

Overheard said to a colleague who is even more anal about communication consistency than I am:

"you didn't transform the document or anything.. you just put it in the right template, fixed some wording, and made the font all the same."

ALL THE SAME?!?! So you want to tell me the font was NOT already all the same?!?!?!


Really? You think that's nothing? in my previous life, we would've hanged you.
We actually had the templates locked for editing the styles.. do you know what that meant? it meant you cannot just bold and italicize and write in big letters when you please. Unless we said you can.

oh we were Nazis when it came to structure.. sometimes I miss the Queendom.

Crochet

Et après toi, que dois-je faire?

Fais de crochet!

hahahahaha

I just discovered this song this morning as a part two to a song I love (Jeet Ta Hibbak). The lyrics are very meaningful :)

حبيت...إوعك تقول لي إنك ما حبيت

أو إنك هالفترة بس اتسليت

أنا بدي أعرف إنت ليه فليّت

لشو...ما بعلمي امبارح كنا أحلى اتنين

وعم بتخطط من هلأ لسنتين

وتقول لي راح نبقى سوا بعدين

مخنوق...أسئلتي عم تكتر وما عم روق

قول لي دخلك ليش دايماً ضهرك ما بروق

ما بروق...لازم تجاوب حتى روق

مُصِر...تعرف ليه جيت أحبك قمت نسيت

تعرف ليه جيت أضمك قمت سهيت

أنا كل اللي عملته إني غنيت

خليك...اسمع لي ها المقطع بس وروح

أنا كل اللي عندي قلته وما راح انوح

ها المرة راح أقول لك عن جد وبوضوح

العمى بقلبك...بقلبك

The right to return

My (not-so-secret-to-someone) Secret: Every week I check it, thinking which ones sound like they were sent by me, and which ones could've been sent by the other. This one above is just a wish.