Thursday, December 20, 2007


The more time i spend in this world, the more i get to know things about myself, and the less i understand the world.

2007 was hard, everything about 2007 was hard. Breaking up with T was hard, moving back was hard, work was hard, attempting a long distance relationship was hard, two break ups in one year was hard, accepting that you have been very delusional, is very hard.
Holding grudges when you are supposed to is very hard for me. Accepting that i am still the last person standing, is hard. Letting go has always been and always will be hard.

2007 was hard, and i was scarcely happy; i was very far away from myself.

2006 was the year of fun
2007 was the year of work
may 2008 be the year of me.

Happy new year to you all, may your year end with closure, and the next start with hope.
May you meet consistently good people, and may you discover more of the wonder that is yourselves.
May you embrace the sanctity of truth, and the reward of being good.
May you find pride in who you are, and satisfaction in what you do.
May you do unto others, as you would have done unto yourselves.

May you find peace, and have fun in the process.


Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Free Me

I want to fly away
To sleep for months on end
and wake up to the warmth of a man i love in my bed
I want to unclench my shoulders
To lose myself in the scent of someone familiar
I want my mind to stop
I want to allow the tears to drop
To let myself feel everything
Without fear of tomorrow
or fear of my own harsh disdain
I want to feel without restraint
I want to walk on water
To know the freedom of release
I want rip my shields to pieces
I want to collapse in another's arms
I want to relinquish control
I want to bare myself to the storm
I want to only believe
I want my alter ego to leave
I want to fly away

Friday, December 14, 2007

Falling Out

I don't know why it's called falling out of love. I really don't. I don't think the decision to be with someone or not has much to do with love....
I still love the few men i was once in love with. I still love them very much, i would still do pretty much anything for them. I still regard them softly, i still have feelings of affection for them, i still love them. I don't think i have fallen out of love with them... at all.
People should call it falling out of want... or need... or habit...
Getting over someone like a bad habit, or an addiction. Shifting our attention elsewhere, shifting our desires elsewhere..
Falling out of want,your mind deciding that you don't want to have the love, you only need to feel it, not own it. To love for the sake of love, and not feed off it. To love with no reciprocation, and no fixation, an absolute abstract love with no expectation. A love that is let go of. A subtle lingering bitter sweetness that is irrelevant to anyone's actions.
I don't think any love that was truly felt can be undone, unfelt. Love is not something we acquire, it's something we realize within ourselves, brought out by people we cross paths with. I cannot unrealize love, if i had my way with the world that would be a crime.
But hell, if i had my way with the world no one would recognize it anymore.

Falling out of want... yes i am.
Yes i am...

Sunday, December 09, 2007

The Black Book

My friend walks in on me at work, as i stare at the computer way after working hours.
F: You still here?
Me: Uh huh
F: Have you moved in?
Me: i still take showers at home..
F: You need to rebound.
Me: I've been rebounding for six years straight, i think it's proven to be a bad idea
F: Well it beats dying at your desk
Me: You have a point i guess
F: So what are the options?
Me: Options?
F: The black book, lets bring out the black book
Me: I have two exes calling for dates
F: How'd they know?
Me: Bloody facebook, tells the world when you remove the relationship thing
F: Which exes?
Me: X & Y
F: Dear God!
Me: Exactly
F: What else is on the table?
Me: Heartthrob is back from Canada...
F: No!
Me: Yup, and has a pool table at home... and wine in the fridge
F: He called you?
Me: Msn. The internet has fucked romantic gestures
F: Go for it!
Me: Said i'd give him a call, drop by some time, can't be bothered awy...
F: Ok.. we don't want to jeopardize chances with heartthrob, not seeing him in your mood might not be a bad idea
Me: Right
F: Anything else?
Me: I have an open invitation to Holland. He even offered to buy me the ticket
F: Ya moseibty
Me: Right
F: Don't!
Me (had to laugh): probably wont
F: Doesn't he have a girlfriend?
Me: He does
F: So how come he asked you over?
Me: Seriously? Have you learnt nothing about men at all?
F: Sa7. So what will it be, a bottle of wine?
Me: A bottle of wine sounds like the best option, yes.

God bless friends.


I lie on the floor
I concentrate on my toes
The soles of my feet
My calves
My knees
My thighs
My navel
My abdomen
My chest
My arms
My palms
My fingers
I concentrate on my breathing
Inside and out
My eyes are closed
I am heavy on the floor
I am all there is
I am everything yet nothing
I am a feather in God's wind
I am only me
Not what i do or what i think
Just me
I stretch my body as far as it will go, and farther
I test every muscle to the limit
It hurts
And i don't mind
I let every emotion flow through my veins
I let myself feel
I embrace the turmoil
I relax all my body, as i'm told
I look for my center
I find it
I retain it, without holding on to it
I accept
I breathe

I walk out of the class, already waiting for my next class.
I walk to my car, a long walk in the cold, i don't mind, i am peaceful.
I embrace the tranquility of sadness and solitude.
I cherish the silence.
I get into my car, and have no need for music.
I drive in the quiet in the dark streets.
I accept the only thought that comes to mind then;
You didn't need to lie to make me love you.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Fuck It

I'm done.
I have put on my short red dress, my high heel boots, and i'm going out.
I'm going to drink and dance my ass off.
Fuck it. Seriously.


What is worse? To have been wronged and pained, or to have wronged someone and pained them?
If you were to ask me, N, i would tell you that i would rather be hurt than hurt someone, not because i am that noble, simply because the guilt and torment of having caused someone pain is unbearable. The responsibility is very real to me. I think that is what sums up why i am a good person.
If a good person wrongs me, i know they feel pain, i know they are sorry, i know they are weighed down with the grief they have caused me. That alone, makes it easy to forgive, logical to move on.
When good people interact together they are operating on the same code. Pain has very little room in life when you are with like minded people.

My problem lies with the wondering of what happens when you are wronged by someone who does not feel? It's the only thing i'm angry about right now. I know it will take time for me to forget that i have been betrayed, i know the bitter taste of lies will stay in my mouth for a while, i know i will waste even more time than i have, unable to open up, skeptical of heart felt words, reserved and clammed up and mistrustful. Because i have strength i know that it wont be long before that has gone. But for the duration, i will cringe when i hear words that are familiar, i will mistrust, i will roll my eyes, i will be out of it, i will be cynical.
It will take even more of my time, because i am human, because i have felt, because i have invested, because i cared.
It would make my journey shorter had i believed i was wronged by someone who cared. I will know that i am not alone in my grief, that it is equally bad if not more so, to the person who has wronged me.
What happens to the people who wrong but do not care?
If they have no conscience, who will be their reprimand?
If they will not bear the consequences of their actions, what will be their punishment for this?

My friends tell me their punishment is in the people that they are, the things they will miss out on in life, their lack of self worth, their knowledge of what they are made of.
I used to believe this, but now i'm not so sure. Do people who have no ethics really care that they are worth nothing? Do people who are so selfish that they rape others of their right of choice really care that they end up alone? Do people who are capable of such devastation feel any discomfort when they watch the consequences of their actions, knowing all along that these consequences would materialize?
Are these not the virtues of good people? To feel remorse, to feel sorry, to feel bad? Isn't that what stops good people from doing wrong?

Is there anything to convince me that this was not done in cold blood and that now it is done, too bad, and life goes on to something new?

Do people who are worth nothing, know or care that they are worth nothing?

I find one consolation, even if they don't feel any of the above, this must mean that they do not feel at all. Do not feel sorrow, hence do not feel joy, do not feel regret, hence do not feel appreciation. Do not feel loss, hence do not feel gratitude.
My consolation is that these people are dead people walking.

And if you are someone who can rape people of their right to choose, manipulate their hopes and dreams, consciously, and feel no sorrow or remorse, feel no need to do whatever it may take to take back your wrongs, if you are a monster, then the very least thing you deserve, is to be a dead man walking.
Neither alive nor dead.
Neither happy nor sad.

The very least you deserve to be is nothing. That should be your consequence.

Am i wrong?

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

The Drill

I read every word, many times.
I have become an expert at extracting the most amount of information possible from a few lines.
I could see him writing them, choosing one word instead of the other, using an absolutely inopportune word for rhyme.
I could tell which words were written for my benefit. And which slipped despite him betraying traits he should be hiding now.
I read every word, many times.
And then this emptiness consumed me.
Is this what i have loved for?
Is this what i was faithful to?
Is this vanity what i loved?

And i saw it like everyone could see it, apathetically, without interest, like the bad story that it is.
I saw him for the man he was today, a man who only knows how to take the easy way out.
And i felt a surge of relief, i didn't want him anymore. And i worked for hours straight, and forgot he even existed.
And then i got into my car, turned on my music, lit my cigarette, and the pang in my stomach came back.
I missed him. I missed the man he was to me every day for eleven months.

When does this cycle ever end?

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Not Enough

Dear Readers of this blog, this is a depressing post, move on from it now if you are in a happy place, i am not.
I am tired of life, i am disappointed at it, i am weary.
Through out my life whenever i went through a bad patch, the death of a loved one, a devastating heart break, i never lost faith. I always knew that this was just happening to me now, that this was just a bad experience i had to go through to learn something to prepare me for the good things to come. I always held the belief that the world was a happy place, that i chose my own misery, that i chose pain over happiness. I never blamed life, i never blamed the world, i took responsibility for my bad choices, and emerged out of every experience telling myself that if i fixed myself i would learn how to choose happiness. I spent endless years fixing myself, loving myself more, treating myself better, shedding one bad habit after the next. I had motivation, i wanted to embrace the world.
Today i find myself without faith, without heart, without a desire to go on. Today i find myself disappointed with the nature of humans, and with the world we live in that is so full of tragedy.

I look beyond my own current drama, and no one i know is happy. My married friends are either bored, unstimulated, being cheated on, or contemplating cheating on their partners. My single friends are either divorced, unstimulated, badly bruised, or trying to settle for a partner to have kids. I have been hearing one sickening story after the next, that i look at my own stories, and i am not that shocked anymore.
I am beginning to think that love is a myth.
Whatever happened to the world? If it's not fear of commitment it's fear of failure, if it's not fear of failure it's fear of boredom, if it's non of the above it's too many options.
Whatever happened to the days of love? Whatever happened to through thick and thin?
Why does everyone - whether with someone or not - end up alone?
Everyone i know who is single doesn't want to be. They say they want love, yet they are not meeting "the one". The people they meet are either too conservative, too loose, too religious, too atheist, too tall, too short, too fat, too bald, too loud, too needy, too pushy, too stuck up, too moody, too restless, too weird, too boring.

Uuuufffff. What is wrong with the world?

My last boyfriend (i will not assign him a letter here) came into my life disguised as the one who will make all my mistakes go away, he was supposed to be the one to make it all better. He promised not to break promises, he promised not to leave when i depended, he promised me a rational mature relationship. To me that was promising the world. I chose to enter into what looked like a healthy chance at something happy. I took a leap of faith, left a man i loved very much who promised me eternal heartache, and decided to love this man.
I had learnt all the lessons of love, to stay independent, to go slow, to have a life, to not fall first, to voice what i want loud and clear, to speak up when i was unhappy, to not get ahead of myself, and to not love him more than myself. These lessons were engraved in my bones from all the men i'd loved before. This time i would not get screwed over, this time i would be good to me, this time i would be happy.

And the rest is history. He broke his promises, he left when i was dependant, he taught me how to go for us when he couldn't. He taught me to trust while he wouldn't. He showed me one more time how nothing is ever as good as it seems.

And here i am. I am not heartbroken, i've lost heart. I am not lonely, i am just very aware that i am alone. I am not angry or bitter, i just have no urge to look forward.
What's the point? Everything ends. Why should i invest in anything if it always goes down the drain? Why should i begin something that will almost surely end?
For the one off chance that it wont? Who has the energy to take that chance one more time?
If love is not ever enough, then what is? If people never know what they want, how can we link our fates with other people's whims?
If people have lost the urge to be happy together, why should i be the only one who hasn't?

I come out of this one not devastated, not heartbroken, not betrayed, I come out older, and disillusioned; the world is not a happy place.

I come out of this one faithless. When all i used to have was faith.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

On Love Gone Bad

One of the worst feelings is knowing that it is wrong to love a certain someone.
To know that the only right thing to do is to change all your feelings of love to at the very bare minimum, neutral.
To unlove them.
You force yourself to do it, knowing it is the only way back to good.

Something is very wrong with the world when the only right thing left to do is to unlove.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Cairo Winter

It's getting colder.
I drive to work and there are clouds in the sky, a luxury in Cairo. There are clouds but it's clear and sunny, it's cold but not enough to turn on the heater.
I love this winter, i have missed the last three winters in Cairo, i have missed them badly.
I'm in boots and a t-shirt. My last three winters i had to wait for the frost to melt off the windshield for ten minutes every morning.
For the first time since i moved back from France i feel like i am home.

Sunday, November 18, 2007


I shall split you into two:

The man i so wanted you to be
And the man you turned out to be

Yes, that is what i will do. To preserve my sanity, to forgive my disloyalty to my instincts, to get through these horrid times. I shall split you into two.

I knew, of course i knew, i doubted every word, i filled every gap in your stories with fractions of my imagination. I knew, i always knew something was wrong.

I shall split you into two:
The man i looked up to, the man that wished me good mornings and good nights, the man that called me love, the man that kissed my shoulder, the man who bought me books, the man who made me laugh.
The man that got me.
The man that held me long and never tired of holding me.
The man who promised me protection from the world.

To find my peace i will separate the man who was my best friend from this other man. And then i will tell myself that my best friend went to a place far far away, where there are no phones and no planes, no good mornings or good nights.

I shall split you into two; the best friend that had to go away, and this other man...

I will not ask why you did this anymore.
I will not try to understand, what i cannot understand.
I will not repeat every word you said to me this week.
I will not remember the other things.
I will not remember them.

I will not wonder just how much longer you were going to lie.
I will not wonder how much more you did not tell me.
I will not wonder what in your life pushed you to be this way.
I will not wonder how that same man had no heart.

I will not wonder about your heart. Or lack thereof.

I shall split you into two, the man that loved me, and the man that is capable of this.

I will bid the man that loved me farewell, he is no longer here, i don't know why he had to leave but i will accept that he had to. The best ones always leave early.

And i will forget the man who was able to do this.
To hold and to lie.
To kiss and to lie.
To love and to lie.
To talk and to lie.
To breath and to lie.
To touch my scars and to lie.

To find his way into my life, manipulate, and lie.

I will not wonder where you got the heart.

I will move on and forget that such things really happen, or that they happened to me.
I will take what i want from this and move on.

You will not have devastated me. You will not have drove me crazy. You will not have had me believe that all the world is one big lie.

I am better than that. Yes i am.

When i doubted i was not crazy.
When my nights were sleepless, i was right.
When you told me i was wrong, i was not.
When i was unhappy, i had reason.

The only thing i know that matters to you is to lose.

You lose.

In this little game that we played where i am one and you are two, you lose.

You lose me, you lose you.

As for me, i will separate the man i so wished you were, from the man you are today.

I will split you into two, and let you both go.

I am better for it. Yes i am.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007


My earliest memory of smoking at my window was four years ago, ever since then it has been linked to my world falling apart.
that was the first time i understood that in life anything goes.

I just put out my nth cigarette today, i threw it out my window and the familiar feeling came back. It's so cynical to be more at home with disaster than with happiness.

I am a great girl.
I battle myself and better it. I accept every challenge that comes my way.
I have always fought for what i believed in, even when i believed in the most horrid of things.
Even at the worst version of myself i didn't give up.
I don't know impossible. I was born a fighter.
I try not to judge, i value trying to be humane.
I am fair.

I deserve to be happy, i deserve the simplest joys of life.

And yet somehow i end up at my window, smoking it off; the sensation that the world is crashing all around me. Numb, passive, tired, with energy enough only to light another cigarette, and try to accept that what will be will be.

My head wont leave my head alone.

It's so exhausting being so aware of everything i think and feel. It is so hard being so objective that i can understand insanity. It is so claustrophobic being so emotional yet so mentally aware.

My head wont leave my head alone.

My body aches everywhere, i carry a stone in my stomach, it is a curse being so physically reactive to my mental state.

There is absolutely nothing i can do.

I have done everything right and ended up in the thick of it anyway; I can't move, i can't go, i can't stay, i can't think.

Thrown off my bed into the deep of the ocean.

My head wont leave my head alone.

Monday, November 12, 2007


Real: The man i love holds the door for me and fills up my glass of wine before it is ever empty

Real: The man i love is the best company i know

Real: The man i love makes me laugh at myself, the most challenging of tasks

Real: The idea of my days without him, makes my stomach turn

Real: The man i love devastated me today

Real: For the first time since i can remember, i came home to crawl into my mothers arms

Real: All day i have been repeating in my head
"please make it ok again, please pull through"
"please make it ok again, please pull through"

Real: I still love the man i love, i still want no other man

I am exhausted.

All i want in my world right now is for this man to wake up tomorrow and decide to earn his second chance.

All i want is that, the hope of a chance at something real.

"May you find the strength to do what you think is right, the wisdom to accept it and the conviction to uphold it. May your strength be understood, your wisdom appreciated and your conviction respected."

Tuesday, October 30, 2007


One after one, i break my pedestals.
It is such a dangerous thing to have, a person on a pedestal.
I think i've always been anti pedestals, my friends used to tell me about their daydreams of boyfriends or crushes or celebrities, i was always strongly against that kind of day dreaming, of consciously idolizing people with fictitious thoughts.
"It's dangerous" i would say.
Yes, i have always been anti pedestals. I have only been stuck with getting rid of the ones that placed people on them all by themselves, out of naivete or youth, or conditioning.

The other day i found out that our happily married friend was being cheated on, i was not shocked, absence of pedestal for him, good.

A few days ago i discovered i had been lied to for no reason from someone i love, sadness, calmness, the choice to forgive, no pedestal there anymore.

I wonder how many people have me on a pedestal, i can spot a dozen, and i recognize the things in me that would shatter that pedestal for them in a second.

What dysfunctional tendencies us humans have.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Why I Fast

Every day my friend at work comes to me with a new reason why she thinks she is fasting, one day it is detoxing the body, the other day it is unburdening the soul, the latest one was self discipline. N, i found it, it's to be taught self discipline!
N: um.. why do you think we need to be taught discipline to begin with?

And it goes on and on.

My other friend asked me before Ramadan: will you fast N?
N: Yes i think so, haven't given it much thought, you?
M: I will i guess, but i doubt i will next year.

When i fasted in France my friends looked at me like i was an enigma, sitting with them over dinner having not eaten all day and turning down wine every day for 30 days.
But you're so cool otherwise, how does this make sense to you?

The bf had me on the phone the other day: are you fasting?
N: Yup
Bf (disgruntled): how could people assume that starving themselves all day is something that would make God happy?

I watch the people around me full of contradictions:
some pray but also drink and have sex
some fast and don't pray and drink but wont have sex
some do drugs and bash alcohol
some drink and bash drugs

most of them are on the fence, clinging to the notion of a god in case heaven and hell really were out there awaiting us, or are on the fence still and have some unanswered questions but the idea of god pisses them off, so they take no clear stand.

I had a three hour long conversation with one of my close friends about religion, not God, religion. At the end of which she concluded: so you don't believe in God at all?

I was puzzled, that's not true at all i replied, why does everyone jump to that conclusion?
If i have reservations about religion, i am rendered blasphemous
If i believe in God i am rendered backwards and brainwashed

why does everyone care so much to box?

I am a very simple girl when it comes to my belief in the existence of God.

I believe we are all made of the same thing, we are all essentially good, we shall keep living over and over again through different lives and planes. We are not going anywhere, we are already there, time is like a row of leaves, all happens at the same time, there is free will, and the free will coincides with the free will of the universe, the collective free will.
Hell can be your bad day or mine, hell could be the next life of a rapist having come back as a snail. But no on is to tell me that we were born with instinct that would lead us to rot in hell forever, or that i am to go through life with any notion that i need to be disciplined. The only discipline i need is to make myself stay positive, to prolong my heaven, to enjoy my life.

I have met many great people in my life.

One of the greatest people i met was a gardener in France, she was the kindest and strongest of women, after many months of a lovely friendship, she asked me, so you believe in God?
I said, yes, after alot of thinking i have decided that i do, you?
S: No i don't, i believe in me.
I looked at her admirably, and i told her that for me, that was the same as believing in God.
S: So you don't judge me?
N: Hell no, good on you.

That girl is one of the best people i know.

I have other great people in my life, some of them meditate, some of them believe in Islam and that they are sinners and will calm down one day. Some of them can't be bothered to think about it so pass on making the statement, and some of them are so turned off religion they've renounced the whole notion of it. Others completely and whole heartedly don't believe there is anything more to life than this.

They are all good people, they feed the poor, they try to make people smile, they don't take what is not rightfully theirs and they all earn their living and take care of their friends and family.
What more could you ask for in a person? What more could you want? At the end of the day they all live, we all live, and that is what we were all meant to do, just be.

Whatever your beliefs or actions are, do you think they affect God one way or the other?
You are what you make of yourself, only you lose or gain from how you think or what you do.
I don't know why people think God has anything to do with it at all.

And finally, if it all doesn't matter why do i believe in God? If there are no punishments or rewards, no endings and no beginnings? How is my faith in God so absolute?
Because my faith in God is for me.
It gives me a sense of belonging, a friend at all times, the comfort that i am understood no matter how crazy i am, it makes me feel like i am a part of something.
It's a selfish feeling, i do it for me not him/her/it.
This belief makes me strengthen myself, not expect him to bless me with strength.
This belief makes me able to go on when it's tough, not expect him to make it easy.
This belief makes me feel that no matter how lonely i get, I'm not alone.

Maybe there are people out there who don't need this, who are absolutely happy without this, there is nothing wrong with that, our fingers are not the same, and we would be foolish to want them to be.

So yogi's, Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, Christians, meditators, atheists and agnostics, and all those other people out there, you are all right if you are all happy, fret not, fight not.

I would celebrate with all of you if i were in your culture or with one of you, i'd light candles and chant mantras, i'd eat turkey and wrap Christmas gifts, it's all about sharing love and wanting good things, that's all we have to have in common.

And that is why i fast.

Saturday, September 29, 2007


One day when i was six, i got off the bus and walked the two blocks from where the bus dropped me off to my then home. I went up the two flights, and took a right to where our apartment was, i found the door open.
I walked into our apartment and found random people dressed in black sitting everywhere, there were chairs laid out where there usually weren't any chairs, all there was were chairs and women dressed in black. I recognized one as a friend of my grandmother, she nodded at me and gave me a faint smile. Confused i walked into my mother's room, the one she shared with my grandmother, and i found them both sitting on the floor with their back to the closet.
They were both in black as well, and my mother had both her hands on her head. Our eyes met, she looked at my sister who was also in the room, and motioned for her to take me into the balcony.
I went into the balcony with my sister, who told me in so many words that our father had died. She repeated this several times, and asked me if i understood, i nodded affirmatively, she hugged me, i think i hugged her back and we went back into the room.
My sister nods at my mother, i see my mother again on the floor with her hands on her head. She is not crying, i note that, and that is all i remember from that scene.
Next scene i remember my mother is taking me and my sister to her aunt's house, she leaves us there for what feels like a month or so, i remember skipping school for the while. I remember that the whole experience was weird and surreal. I don't remember crying or feeling any sadness of loss. The only disturbing thought is the image in my head of my mother on the floor, so very unlike her, looking as what i now understand as to be broken.

Everyone was overtly nice to me, and i didn't really get it. At the age of twelve i then realize that from the day that happened i was completely convinced that my father was pulling a stunt. He was living abroad at the time and he was close to moving back home, so to make his coming home extra special he pretended to have died, so that we would be really really surprised when he came back.

Aren't children's minds scary?

From age six to twelve there was to be no mention of my father in the house. I tried once, but everyone broke down and started crying, i decided against getting information from there on, it set the house on fire, so i went without.
Every year we would go visit where he is buried, somewhere in upper Egypt where the rest of his family still resides. At twelve i asked if i could go along as well, surprisingly my mom agreed, and i remember going with them to the family house, then leaving by car, taking a boat across a lake or river to a cemetery.
His tombstone was huge, and i remember being confused about that, wasn't it supposed to be on the level of the earth and humble?
I recited what i knew was appropriate, watched my mother horribly solemn, and waited for them to be ready to go.
I remember that on the boat ride back i felt the need to make things lighter, so i started telling my sister jokes. My sister and i were still friends back then. I knew this would lighten my mothers heart, and i saw her look at us from across the boat with a smile in her eyes.
That was the year i decided to admit to myself that my father had died. Ironically, we never went to visit him again, my mother couldn't do it anymore.

I still didn't cry, i felt no self pity for having lost a father at any point. I had too much pride and developed an allergy to sympathy, whenever someone would ask about him i would say he passed away, i would get the painful twisted face, and i would immediately say, hey no worries, that was ages ago! And i meant it.
I always had so much going for me, i was smart, got good grades easily, loved sports, was popular at school, always had great friends, and life went on. I never grieved the loss, i didn't feel the need to.

Then on my 19th birthday, my best friend of 15 years died in a car crash.
There is no describing how badly i took that, I remember having no grip and dropping things, i remember having no control over my tear glands for several months. I was a happy 18 year old whose only concern was partying on the weekend and saving up for trips with my friends, then came this, it was a blow to my priorities, to my perception of life.
That time, the few weeks and months after the car crash, was the first time my mother talked to me about my father. I learnt how he died, what he was like, what similarities i had to him, how wonderful he was, etc etc..
I was introduced to the man at 19, and i suddenly began to miss him.
I mourned my friend for two years, i am later told it was my mourning of both my father and her, i suppose that makes sense on paper, but the feeling of mourning was so claustrophobic that i just wanted it done with. I continued to miss my father, and i somehow wanted him back, it was not conscious, it was not rational, it was a gap in my heart that i was suddenly monstrously aware of, and there was no shushing it. It would not go away.

And as cliched as our lives usually are, i went from being a straight arrow goody two shoes responsible girl, who had only had one boyfriend who was her childhood sweetheart, to the girl who wanted to try anything and everything, to a hunger struck soul striving to devour all that was possibly out there.
I had several relationships, i broke men's hearts and got my heart broken, i took emotions to extremities, i was looking for an unconditional love that i wouldn't want to push away, i was looking for the love of a man that was so complete, it would fill the gap.
At 24, i began to understand the magnitude of self destruction i was doing.
I began to see that i had everything in my life under complete control at will, i began to understand that i was unbelievably strong in every way, except in my relationships with men.
I packed up and moved to France, i tore myself away from my mother and my then insane relationship, and i spent eight months walking the streets of the south of France, drinking coffee, writing and making my apartment into a home. I learned how to cook, how to clean, how to wash my clothes, how to pay my bills, how to save up money and how to be alone. I rejected all advances made by men, when my ex came to find me i drove to Italy, i realized again all that was great about me, all the things i knew how to do, i started traveling, and i finally accepted that no man or thing could fill the gap a father left. I understood that i had to love myself enough for me and him, and i recognized the power of being independent, of not needing external love.
The dark ages were ending, i was finally dealing with the loss of a father, 18 years later.

I've been in love and out and in again since then, i slip and struggle often with my relationship with men, but i find my peace with it through two things:
1. I know in my heart that i don't want anyone to fill that gap anymore
2. I know this is my baggage, its a part of me, and whoever loves me will love all of me, with gaps and holes and luggage and wounds.

Such is life. We all go through traumas, we all carry scars, we all have mutilated characters as a consequence, we all have our own reasons for aggression, distance and self defenses.
I pride myself on at least being able to see my faults and distortions, and apologize for them when they take over me.

This post is probably about a year over due. I've dreaded writing it, but now that i have i know that i always had to. Contrary to funny, sexy, amusing blogs, mine has always served first and foremost as my outlet.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Things I Love....

Sandy Beach....

A juicy Steak...

A Good Book....

Good Wine....



Road Trips...

Sterling Silver

Hand Bags....

TV Shows.....

Big Comfy Beds....



Sunday, September 23, 2007


This is the nth time i consider posting job vacancies on this blog and decide against it.

Sunday, September 09, 2007


I believe in the one God. The force, nature, the universe, the soul of the world, the source, I believe in the one God, and i don't care what you call him/her/it. I believe in the one God, in you, in me, in the drops that make the ocean, parts of one and all the same. The beginning and the end and all that's in between, the abstract, the all, the light and absence thereof.
I believe in the one God.

I follow my own religion, i mix and match all of yours and pick the ideas that feel right for me. Most of you will call me faithless, but i live with no guilt, no shame, no regret and am subject to no vengeance. I am fair and comfortable, i am my own persecutor, the consequences of my actions are my heaven and hell. I talk to God, we have good conversations, i am happy in my own skin and very comfortable with my ignorance and confusions. I am honest with myself. I believe that God is home.

I believe that the truth always comes out. Always. That's why i stopped lying, there's just no point, it's wasted effort, the truth always comes out. The only person i lie to now is my mother, i lie because i love her, and because i love myself, i lie to protect her, and i do it with love. I would have no fear for myself if she found out my lies, my only fears are for her happiness. I lie to her with no guilt.

I believe that good prevails. Eventually, maybe in a very very long time, maybe in another life, but i believe that good will win over evil.

I am right there in the middle, i was a capitalist, then a socialist, now i am right there in the middle. I believe in equal opportunity and everyones' right to medical care and education. I also believe that if you don't get off your ass and grab your life, you only have yourself to blame.

I am very big on compassion, very stingy with sympathy, i believe one bonds people and the other wrecks them.

I believe in education. If there's anything that would save the world it's teaching people how to think - for themselves that is-.

I believe that love makes the world go round. Not money, not contacts, Love. Love makes the world go round.

I believe in trust, there is no freedom without trust, there is no absolute without trust, there are no dreams without trust, there is no hope without trust. I spend most of my day battling my skepticism and trying to find a way back to trust. If there was one thing i didn't want to lose it's my natural inclination to trust.

I am addicted to travel, i believe that travel gives you perspective, gives you self knowledge, gives you confidence, gives you individuality. I am an addict of travel and change.

I believe the body gets ill when the soul gets tired.

I believe in families and children, and having a lot of people around you that love you enough to scream in your face.

I believe in monogamy, sometimes i thought i didn't, but i believe in monogamy. I believe that intimacy is precious and touching anothers' skin is sacred. I believe in monogamy of the body, mind and soul. I believe in only one person sharing my plate and bed.

I believe in freedom. To each his own every day and any day, i am intolerant to intolerance, the worst thing you can be according to me is judgmental. Whatever makes you happy as long as you don't inflict it on me. I am a true believer of freedom.

I believe in the one God. The force, nature, the universe, the soul of the world, the source, I believe in the one God, and i don't care what you call him/her/it. I believe in the one God, in you, in me, in the drops that make the ocean, parts of one and all the same. The beginning and the end and all that's in between, the abstract, the all, the light and absence thereof.
I believe in the one God.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

I'm So Screwed!

You Are 4: The Individualist

You are sensitive and intuitive, with others and yourself.
You are creative and dreamy... plus dramatic and unpredictable.
You're emotionally honest, real, and easily hurt.
Totally expressive, others always know exactly how you feel.
At Your Best: You are inspired, artistic, and introspective. You know what you're thinking, and you can communicate it well.
At Your Worst: You are melancholy, alienated, and withdrawn.
Your Fixation: Envy
Your Primary Fear: To have no identity
Your Primary Desire: To find yourself

Other Number 4's: Alanis Morisette, Johnny Depp, J.D. Salinger, Jim Morrison, and Anne Rice.
What Number Are You?

Johnny Depp, Alanis and Anne Rice... Can it get any darker???
I protest on the envy part though, where did that come from?

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Drunken Blogging

Well of course there have been worse weeks, but this one was quite bad. If there's one thing that gets the better of me it's someone telling me i am wrong when i am right. I'm a child that way. So my chest pains are back, and i had to sit through two doctors telling me that i am imagining the pain and there is nothing wrong with me. It's partly my fault.. I wake up, go to work, hold my meetings, go about my day, walk in to the doctors cabinet, wait, get admitted, tell him my symptoms with a clear straight face, i am factual, i don't whine or scream or hold my chest in agony. So when the x-rays and such come out normal how is he to know that every time i breathe i feel like a piece of glass is cutting through my chest? How is he to know that i need to pause and break between sentences to get my bearings and stop panting? How is he to know that i need to sit down after the effort exerted brushing my hair? If i just say i am in pain and act and talk completely fine, really, how is he to believe me when i say the echo's are wrong?
Then i went to the best doctor in Cairo, and he sat me down, and listened to me, actually listened to me, and after an hour told me that even though everything looks fine, my pains were back because i was sick again. And that was all i needed, someone to tell me i had a right to feel sick, and to give me something for the pain to go away, and things were beginning to look up.
Then a man waved a gun in my face. My first encounter with a gun in real life, in my office. And i saw just how crazy people can get, how logic is not mandatory, how some people really have no sense of right or wrong, how corroded and vain some minds are, how power drunk they get. A gun in my office, the second he took it out of the grip i lost all sense of anything else, i didn't hear the swear words being shouted over my head, i don't know who came out of the office or went in, all i saw was the gun, my eyes completely fixated on it's every movement willing it back into it's grip. Then i spent four hours in the police station, three of which i spent giggling with my friend in a completely out of context way, maybe that was the shock of it.
And then that blew over, and the panic subsided, and i went back to work where everyone had started joking about the gun in the factory incident, and then a girl i had coached and helped get promoted came in and gave me a present, a little silver pendant with my name written in arabic and a flower on top. She hugged me for my belated birthday and made my day sweet again. She had made it herself, she made my heart melt.
It's a good job where you can contain a gun situation and get such a nice present all in one day...
But then the shock wouldn't wear off, so i had to get a drink, and the drink turned into a few too many, and before we knew it the bottle of wine was gone and here we are...
Blogging in drunkenness about the off throwing week.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Note to Friend

Sand-e wrote this as a comment on my last post:

Once upon a time there was a little girl called N who dreamed of that just right fit for her bum on the couch. Warm, comfortable, well fed and content she fell asleep and woke up only to come to the realization that it was just a dream... and in her distress with figuring out the facts she woke up only to find that she'd done so before entirely experiencing her dream for what it was.

Sand-e is a blogger close to my heart, she usually leaves comments on my most heart felt posts, she leaves comments on ambiguous posts i'm sure no one gets, she knows when to say what, and to be honest her vocabulary and sentence construction are sometimes too advanced for me that i have to read the sentences several times to get it.
I read this comment over and over, what does she mean? That i've been delusional? That i burst my own bubble? That i get caught up in analysis too much to enjoy the experience?

Is she wicked enough to mean nothing in particular other than to let me come up with my own afraid to face truths?

So Sand-e, this is for you;

Once upon a time there was a
little girl called N who dreamed of that just right fit for her bum on the couch. Warm, comfortable, well fed and content she fell asleep and woke up only to come to the realization that it was just a dream... and in her distress with figuring out the facts she woke up only to find that she'd done so before entirely experiencing her dream for what it was. But then she remembered that dreams are realities, and realities are dreams, because she was once told that our perceptions weave our lives. Now it's a tough paradigm shift back from distress to contentment, especially illusory contentment, after all warmth and comfort are not emotions to be saved in a bottle for emergency need...
So she did what she does best, she inhaled - though that hurts these days- and she fixed her eyesight on her feet, the feet that took her every place she's been, and out of every mess she's made and she smiled at the power of her feet. Those feet combined with lucid reality meant that the shit could just go ahead and hit the fan, and her bum would remain nicely fitting to that couch.

Don't mind me, i'm in the weirdest mood today, please feel free to tell me what it is you actually meant :)

Monday, August 27, 2007


My boyfriend has gotten used to having me around.
He knows that if he sends me a message, i will sooner or later reply.
He knows that if he wants to make plans i will accommodate them.
He knows that if i don't pick up i will be calling him back the next chance i get.
He knows that if i sit next to him i will reach out for him if he doesn't reach out first.
And he knows that if we fight i will want to work things out in the end.

My boyfriend is now secure and knows that i am there....

I have been twitching and twirling in my place for ages avoiding arriving at this place at any cost where he can slack off and get cosy... Where he can sit back and know that i wont just up and go for no reason...

Is there any way to put this off any longer? Or do i just grab a book and make myself comfortable too?

Thursday, August 23, 2007


If you woke up today and had to choose all the people in your life again, would you choose the same people you have now?

Would you chose your partner again?

The friends you've had all your life?

If you never knew the brand of coffee you drink today, would you blindly choose it again?

Would you? Really?

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Seeing Through

She sat me next to her on the beach, and started asking me questions. She's a friend of a friend, even though she was sharing a room with me and this was our first one on one encounter since i had arrived the night before. She was older and from another part of the arab world, and really a testament to educated, broad minded and yet traditional arab women.
She told me to sit close while she asked me all the questions, i was the last one there to be tested as i had displayed no interest really in what was supposed to be a fascinating personality test. The day was beautiful, i had spent most of it swimming and playing in the sand with a friend's one year old, and it was close to sunset and i was beat from walking hunchbacked for hours holding the baby's hands while he attempted his newly found talent to walk/stumble on his own feet.
I sat down next to her, completely slumped in my chair, and lightly answered questions about old keys and apples, dark caves and bears, horses and the sea and finally the perfect house i suddenly saw and the mug sitting on the table.
My answers were short, one sentence if not a few words, and her interest in my answers though i considered them to be very fickle, was truly deep.

"Do you want to hear the analysis?"

"yes, of course" faking an interest to be somewhat polite.

"You carry your memories everywhere you go, you treasure all that has happened to you and your past is very much with you all the time, with all it's very good and very bad.
You are unable to walk away from your fears and threats, when faced with a threatening situation you seek control, you must assess, analyze and contain, and then you walk away when peace is restored, even if within you the situation had not passed at all, if you walk away from a situation that went beyond your control, you never go back to it.
Death is something you do not think about, it is not even an after thought, you have no interest whatsoever in the subject, and you would avoid handling related topics at absolutely any cost.
You like your life to be somewhat difficult, challenging, and you take the challenge every time, you are fearless in the face of life, very little danger would put you off from going after what you want.
You indulge in what people classify as sins or the forbidden, you indulge in peace and truly believe that it is your born right to satisfy your desires should they yield no harm to others, you also understand that others may not understand this, it is very rare that you will offend someone for believing different than you.
People who know you see right through you, and you are only close to those who are the same, you seek clarity and understanding always, and in it's absence you lose interest. You are unable to be close to people who are not as transparent and clear as you are. For the people who are not close to you, you are almost impossible to understand, especially since you cannot be bothered to offer any explanation of who you are, you simply do not care."

She had my full attention as she paused.

"You have been through a traumatic relationship, and ever since you have not wanted anything to do with men. You may have had relationships since, but deep inside it is very hard for you to be with a man. You have very deep wounds that have only healed at the surface making everything look fine, but when anyone applies even little pressure on the skin covering the wound you want to scream.
After this relationship you became much more private and detached, and i would assume that at heart you have no faith in men and have no interest in having real faith again.
Don't worry, this is not a permanent state, it will pass, but not yet, it will still be a while"

I must have been very wide eyed while i looked at her, cause she smiled and said:
"Is any of this true?"

I nodded and said yes, the woman had won me over, i couldn't help it.
I told her that i had nightmares about that part of my life almost every week even though it was a long time ago and i never thought about those times when i was awake. I told her that i was now happy with someone else. I told her i have willed myself to not be that way. I told her i saw no reason why i should be that affected by something that has long since gone.
She nodded and gave no further explanation.

"You try very hard, but it takes time, this is not who you are, it will pass"

I thought about how much little words affected me now, being called over sensitive or insecure feels like digging into a raw wound and pouring salt in the hollow space, and i went back to that feeling of wanting to be alone forever in a very far away place.
She must have read the distraught look on my face, because she suddenly said "i have some good news though.."

I smiled, and looked at her eagerly "tell me.."

"You will have or are having one hell of a sex life!"

Monday, August 06, 2007

During the Night

I don't know why i get such bad nightmares. They are so disturbed as well, mutations of people into other bodily beings, with blood exploding and splashing all over, sometimes even with a perverted sexual twist that is anything but pleasurable, they are so graphic and grotesque, i often wake up wondering what i have done in my life to deserve those kinds of dreams..
After my best friend died in a car crash ten years ago, i spent two years suffering from recurring nightmares of graveyards and death, ranging anywhere from being lost in a cemetery with no way out at twilight battling against time to get out before it gets dark, to watching people i know lying bleeding from open wounds next to a dug out hole in a cemetery waiting for their death so they can be pushed into the slot.
For two years almost i dodged sleep, i slept sporadic hours during day time, and agonized over battling sleep during the night. After that the nightmares calmed down in nature, they went completely psychological rotating around an abusive relationship that was to form much of my character later on. The nightmares were justified even then, i was not leading a good life, i was unhappy with all that i was, i was going through the horrible early twenties where it seems one is known to be quite lost. It was justified to have nightmares, i could live with it because in a fucked up way i thought i deserved it.
I moved to France and life got better, my life style got healthier, my choices were mine and i grew up a bit. My nightmares recurred less frequently, due to the positive life change and regular exercise, but still, every few weeks i'd get a nerve wrecking dream, out of nowhere, flames, attacks, mutations, distortions, and death, always lots of death.
I thought that i must be detoxing from all the suppression i did as a child onwards till i became an independent entity, i decided to give it time and ignore it, and i've lived like that ever since. The thought that my subconscious holds material for these nightmares never stops scaring me though, it really terrifies me that i have thoughts buried somewhere that can be a constant feed to these never ending nightmares
This morning i woke up from yet another nightmare, blood, amputated distorted body parts, combined with disappointments in a parallel scenario. My dreams are always about people i know, and most disturbingly, people who are important to me.
In my frenzy of waking up i sent a message asking if he was ok, he was part of the dream, of course i shouldn't have cause it was 7am or something, and that is whacko mental behavior, but i was still in my frenzy, in the dark world where bad things happen for no reason.
When this happens and i wake up and he's next to me, i crawl up near, listen for a breath, put my ear against the rhythm and take comfort that everything is still the same and all that harm was just a dream, and the rhythm of the breathing eventually puts me back to sleep..

Can someone please, please tell me if this is still borderline mad or if i have always been insane?

Sunday, August 05, 2007

I dream....

I dream of a little house on the beach that my mother loves, a little house to make her happy, i dream her simple dream comes true
I dream of another few years off, a little flat with my own kitchen, with my own sofa, with my own glass window with a view
I dream of a white sandy island, with crystal waters and little waterfalls flowing into fresh water pools
I dream that every night i go to bed everyone i love is warm
I dream of a little girl with curly hair, in a family with lots of love to give
I dream of years of freedom yet, with light weights on my shoulders, and open clear skies
I dream of making someones life, a little better than what it would've been, if i were not there
I dream that my losses come with acceptance, and that my paths part gently and only sweet memories stay behind
I dream that if i went away, i would be loved not missed, wanted not needed, wished for not longed for
I dream for those that came and went, that what i believe is true, that love still lives and breathes through both of you
I dream that all my dreams comes true...

Sunday, July 29, 2007

One Night

At the end of a perfect day, amidst the softness of familiar yet much missed tenderness..

"Now do you believe that i love you?"


"You don't?"

"I believe that you believe you do..." said tenderly, gently, cautiously...

"You think i wouldn't know?"

For a split second he contemplated my question, i don't know what went on in his mind after that, he was too busy containing the situation i think, preventing tears and such to follow..
I couldn't go on, the moment of closeness was gone for me, i turned around to spare him tears for the nth time and willed myself to sleep.

Ever since i've remembered that sentence several times a day, it's my first thought of him when i think of him and every time i wonder what i do that makes him think that? I must be responsible somehow, and i wonder over and over, is it how we started out? Is it because he hasn't seen scribblings and writings of torture and torment over him? Is it because i'm far away? Is it because i say it too much?

This feels like one of the very few battles i cannot fight. I don't think this is a battle meant to be fought...
I can only hope that if i keep being me, he will get it one day...

His response to this post was: "you should give me more credit"
What does that even mean?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

When It's Worth It

Today i went to the office after a week off. I'd gone to Turkey for a much needed break and some quality time with the Bf. I had been working 12 - 13 hour days for the past few weeks as the boss was away and i had to fill in for her beside doing my job and i was up against a deadline.
Consequently, whilst packing i left my work phone at home, took no documents to work on if i felt like it, didn't take my laptop with me for the first time i can remember, and didn't check my work email once! (pathetic victory i know).
Part of my job is coaching people to do their job better, i.e. fill their posts, construct their reports, own their meeting and manage their time so they can develop into indispensable promotable people. I have been exerting quite a substantial amount of effort with 7 people of diverse functions in the organization, and on my way back to work this morning i had palpitations from the issues and emails waiting for my arrival...

I walked into my office, coffee mug in hand, turned on my computer and started going through the bunch of emails waiting for me:

The product release team meeting was held, and the minutes delivered on time
Moreover, all the pending collections were launched, and marketing had placed production orders
Marketing had delievered the three collection briefs as agreed, two months ahead of schedule as requested, to push our production calendar back to make room for market testing
The minutes of the factory meeting of before were edited and distributed correctly
The factory status report was comprehensive, with exact production figures, finished prototypes, with a zero lott report attached
The stock repricing was complete and ready for consultant final lookover
The stock report was broken down per collection per production stage
The precious stones appraising project was finished to be presented that week
The bathroom were being revamped, and were almost finished
and finally
All the contract copies requested from employees had been handed in during my absence as requested..

Nothing was missing, everything i asked for happened, no one had excuses for why things hadn't happened, and other than asking me to confirm a tile color for the bathroom, no one needed help.

It was the perfect day. Maybe i should've gone on vacation sooner...

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Terms of Endearment

I recall when i was a teenager how uncool terms of endearment were. I remember the looks me and my girlfriends would exchange if someone called one of us "habibty" or "ro7y".... if someone said "2alby" i would literally cringe. It was icky, over emotional, uncalled for and oh so LAME.
The other day i was on the phone whilst driving back to work from a meeting with my life long friend next to me who also happens to be my boss and the snobbiest person i know, i was on the phone with a girl doing some work for us, and after i ended the conversation my friend turned to me giggling:

F: Did you realize that you just called her "ro7y"
Me: I did?
F: Yes, and habibty as well

I started giggling as well

F (reassuringly): It's ok, i do it too you know... well, maybe not "ro7y"... but the concept is ok now

I started laughing: why wouldn't it be ok?
and then i remembered our years of allergy to terms of endearment and smiled.

Somewhere on the french coast it became ok to say habibty, habiby, ro7y, love, honey, hun and even baby on the occasional highly highly affectionate moment. One day i woke up and i wanted to call people nice things, pamper them, make them feel loved, it has become an integral part of who i am...

This observation leads me to the most absurd of thoughts, are we THAT uncomfortable with emotions when we're young? Why is it that hard for teenagers to accept open affection? Why did i used to find this embarrassing and downright uncool? Why will teenagers push you away if you try to hug them?

Are we that messed up when we're growing up?

My BF has taken to calling me the most absurd things, i can only thank both of our lucky stars that we didn't meet a few years back when his calling me "konafa" would've been responded to by a dagger in the heart rather than a very appreciative sensation of being pampered..

Wednesday, July 11, 2007


I wake up and the urge hits me again. The unbearable urge to pack a bag, call in sick for a month and flee. I readjust my face and bury it into the pillow and remember that i love my job, love my life really and should get up and start my day. I remove my hair from my face and remember once again that i moved back by choice, that it's a trade off and i head off to work.

I do this every day, for four and a half months now i've done this almost every day.

Is crying in the middle of a meeting from the stress a sign that maybe i don't belong in this managerial place and was more at home shopping in the cote d'azur and downing espresso's all day?

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Chronic Nightmares

It's 2:28 am.

I have just woken up from the dream that lucifer had struck a town with the doom of death by demons because i had been mocking his existence. The town's plague then spread to the other surrounding towns, until i see a birds eye view of stampedes of people fleeing the south of France up to Paris, and there are so many of them and they are so scared that they have torn down the tolls, entrances and exits of the highway and are all crawling onto the highway with their belongings from everywhere in the south of France in the pitch blackness of the night, all of them wailing and screaming.

Yesterday i dreamt that a woman got into a car and put her child in the back seat, she was parked with her back to a huge hole where a building's infra structure was about to be drilled, the ditch was maybe 15m deep. The woman backed up too much, the two back wheels slid into the ditch, and i watched as the cars weight shifted backwards, the car tilted into the ditch and the car started falling in back first. I saw the maybe four year old's body hit the top of the car and the look of horror on his face as they fell. I heard the baby scream.

Can you people please tell me how often you get nightmare of this level of horror so i can have a benchmark before i seek professional help?

Sunday, July 01, 2007


He came to me last night.
He didn't really look like him, but i knew it was him, dreams are funny that way.
And even though i didn't know i was dreaming, i knew we had little time, i knew every moment was precious, and i panicked because i didn't want to waste or misuse the little time we had.
He saw my panic, and i suddenly found him with me, beside me, surrounding me, and he started talking to me. I only knew he was talking because i found myself soothed, calm, protected like i didn't know was possible.
And then i dared to ask; are you proud at all?
And the question shocked him, truly distressed him, and he asked me why i ask that?
"Because i'm different than what you planned, i have not followed the laid out path"
And he looked at me long, and hard, and i woke up...

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Victims of East and West Collisions

So i found myself in the middle of the day with nothing to do, it was too late to go back to the office, too early to go home, i was in the area so i decided to make the most out of this situation and call my long lost friend and pass by her at work. Our friendship was suffering from me, as many of my friendships currently are, after moving back to Egypt i have found it impossible to spend time with anyone i wont thoroughly enjoy, and as the last time we had bonded was when i was in the manic K relationship, we had drifted, and i wanted to do something about it.
So i dropped by, hugs and kisses and coffee, and conversation.

Me: So tell me, what was it you were going on about on the phone?
Her: Am restless
Me: Yes i gathered that much, how restless?
Her: I don't know, i miss it, i miss the excitement, the rush, i love my husband dearly, i want to grow old with him, but right now i just want to have fun
Me: What kind of fun?
Her: I don't know, i'm travelling all the time, i'm meeting all these people, getting exposed, i keep getting signs to let go...
Me: Signs?
Her: Yes, two men, two different men approached me in the past two weeks, and the way they looked at me, the desire, the rush, it made me feel alive again, i don't know how long i can resist the temptation, sex with my husband has gotten boring, i need variety, and i don't want to be that person who cheats on her husband.

I recline in my chair, and sip my coffee.

Her: you know i could never tell anyone but you all this stuff
Me: Yes i know, i wouldn't tell anyone else if i were you

We laugh, and a woman in her early thirties walks in, tall, wide shouldered, attractive, seemed smart, talked a bit to my friend and then walked out again.

Me: who's that? She seems nice
Her: One of my subordinates, she wants to sleep with me
Me: Huh?
Her: Yup, she offered straight out, she's a lesbian and wanted to sleep with me.

At this point i am a bit thrown off, the last time i checked this was Cairo.

Another girl came in and took a seat.

My friend: I was just telling N about my struggles.
Other girl: Ya sheikha bala neela, what struggles? I don't see why you're making such a big fuss of things. Go have your fun, take a break, if sex is all it's about then whats the harm?
My friend: Women can never have sex without emotions.
Other girl: That's bullshit, of course they can, plus why are you being so dramatic about it? You'll do this now, he'll do this later. It's how it works.

And i watched in amazement as the conversation flowed.

There was nothing that shocked me about the conversation, but that is only because i am difficult to shock, i knew my friend was a good person, and i was just watching her fall into life's many holes. The only thought i had through out was; why does this country preach so much and not let everyone do it his own way if this is the reality behind the Egyptian flag? Only the hypocrisy kills me.

The girl leaves the office and my friend turns to me;

Her: A3mel eh?
Me: Hate3mely eh ya3ny?
Her: No seriously, what do i do with all this battling?
Me: what do you want more?
Her: you mean the stable life or the excitement? The husband or the few more flings?
Me: Yes, you want everything, but what do you want more?
Her: what about this struggling?

I smiled, finished my coffee and told her it was time for me to go.

I got into my car, picked up my phone and sms'd the boyfriend, full of appreciation that i wasn't any of those three girls i had talked to in that visit.

Sunday, June 24, 2007


The summer comes, the summer goes, the autumn brings the leaves and boots, i untie my hair and kick my heals, its been so very long since i'd felt this kind of breeze. In a coat i roam the streets, i eat on pavements and browse museums, there is a way to be alone, there is a day where the sun comes out all by its own. Things of old now things of new, days untainted by all that you, and just like that i step across, like stepping from one season into the next, without loss.
And it's amazing how much life, just sits there waiting to be lived. It's fascinating how one can laugh all by ones self on a winter day, just because its so cold its crystal clear, just because every tingle in the veins is now real. And along i skipped and ran, and winter went sweet, then spring went sour, and yet i still knew the drenching joy of April showers. How beautiful life is when you carry, all you get from days before, i burn and ache and laugh some more.
And summer comes, and just like that, nothing matters but the waves, you may come and you may go, you may break for all i know, all i have are beaches and seas, all i want today is me.
And just like that, what you want is never yours, till your want leaves your soul and turns itself into a prayer in the wind. Maybe lost, maybe found, maybe foolish, maybe sound, in the wind all the same. And the autumn comes with roughness, comes with tests of no more sun, and leaves us really one by one. The trivia stopped, the smiles were blocked, and through the horrors came the good, i thanked you once, i thank you still, i walk out of that nightmare, happy at will.
And the winter parts the ways, and the gloom threatens those days, and just like that, you knock a door, you tap a window and there i am. I'd been back to my days of skipping, of this and that and trying to find myself a home. How funny how words when put together, can mean so much to someone waiting. And seasons switched, and paths got twirly, with hands extended and hands outstretched for fortune telling, how lucky some of us are to see the choice and its rewards unfold before its even made.
And just like that, from summer to winter, i step through the seasons with grace in my step, just like that i step across, from there to here, without loss.
And today i watch the passing of all those seasons like i were someone not from here. I watch the self lose and gain, i watch the soul laugh through the pain, i watch the journey of the person knowing all is said and done. I watch you watch me come undone. Am i happy? Am i content? Is the tear or the skip, the tip you need to carry on? How much of this is about you? How much of the history is about anyone other than me? I choose, i run, i reap, i pick my pain and my fun. Through the smiles like the sun, what needs be done?
The summers here, it's time to swim, through seas of joy on clear white sands, it's time to fall asleep, holding hands. It's time to forget all quarters of years that turned, it's time to soak in the sun, and melt away in the seas of all and one.

Sunday, June 17, 2007


It's been a while since we've done this, well i've hardly ever been any good at it really.... it's past midnight and your phone is stashed away in a bag in the middle of the sea.. not very convenient, but hey, it could be worse, wont whine about that anymore.

To reciprocate here's a list that may be of use to you, god knows you've had to figure out enough on your own...

1. I like to sleep on the left side of the bed, the right side is alien to me
2. Anything you render ugly never leaves the wardrobe when you're here
3. My predominant thought when we are in public is not to slip into PDA
4. That's one of the reasons i like staying in
5. I am never restful enough to watch TV for that long, so i take advantage of it when i am
6. The only thing that keeps me here is my mom
7. There's something you know how to do that i would love to learn. Can you guess?
8. I am an outdoors person. I know.. I swear, ask anyone.
9. I drink tea with milk every day all the time except when you're around, i don't know why
10. I hold the fork and my squash racket wrong, i wonder if you noticed the fork thing
11. I can't stand in my place for more than ten minutes, weak back
12. I chew on one side of my teeth, missing tooth
13. Something about Miracle puts me to sleep, like that bedtime baby thing they were talking about
14. I have been told that i dance like a stripper (without the taking off of clothes), hence i haven't danced at ease in three years. I miss it like hell.
15. When i do that pensive far away look, i am avoiding confrontation, and that is the only thing i have on my mind then

and one that's only significant today; the only upsetting thing about K getting married today is that i can't call to say congratulations.

Talk to you in the morning. x

Monday, June 11, 2007


I want to go buy a super backpack, that i can carry on my back, take on a plane, push under a train seat, and still be able to pack all the things i love and could ever possibly need.
I want to pack that backpack, and head off into the world where i need no money and can barter away through my travels. I'll land in NY in the autumn then on to central america and hitch boat rides to all those endless islands, then i'd land in Panama, and walk/drive from there onto all that is worth seeing in latin america, plane to Australia, see if New Zealand is really that beautiful, go to the Maldives before they drown, pass though Tibet and then end up back in Europe. Experience Croatia before it booms, spend more time in Italy, walk the spanish coast and go back to Cairo via the saharan dessert; Morocco, Tunisia and all that endless sand.

Where do they sell those backpacks?

Tuesday, June 05, 2007


In the rising of the dawn
I was always yours
When the present cannot be
Release the image; I am free

With the passing of the spirit
and the crashing of the waves
take a step into the light
there will never be tonight

When your soul withers, dies
surrender to the winds, for you-
set me free and then you cry
I; shall be free until i die

Friday, June 01, 2007


When you look around you and feel that you have it better than everyone else, smile, and don't gloat, not even inside.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

The Insomniac

There were once
two friends of long
Tick and tock
they went everywhere together
and one day found they were bound
for the ever
Tick got sad
and tock got mad
and out of frenzy
they sang a song
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock
through the night, and all day long
they never used to sing before
now it feels like someones waiting
counting, shouting, anticipating
and in their defence
they blame the sun
and say its always been this way
but imagine a life with no ticking tock
with no shorter distance
with no better way
imagine a life where you can just stay
imagine a life of "what the heck"
with no ticking tock breathing
down the bloody neck

I need to be at my desk in 4 hours and i cannot sleep.

Monday, May 14, 2007

The City Virus

Almost every time i leave work i get the same thought; what now?

Funny thing is; when i lived in France i hardly ever got this feeling. I lived alone amidst the Europeans and spent the better part of my time alone entertaining myself, walks, drives, shopping, restaurants, etc etc etc... I did most things alone.

There is something eerily restless about having 70 million people around and having no urge to initiate activity.. like having 76 channels and finding nothing to watch...

I'm not even restless, i am just absolutely unstimulated by anything other work and home, there is nothing else i want to do...

What exactly is this phenomena?

Sunday, May 13, 2007


So i walk out of the place where i had been retreating for the weekend. I had just spent two days doing yoga, breathing techniques, meditating and listening to people's experience while they meditated and saw colors and fireworks (non of which happened to me) and actually hearing a man flutter in his place while he transcended and i resisted my temptation (several times) to break my mantra and open my eyes to watch him shake in his state of pure consciousness. It was my first weekend, after a three day course i took that ended Wednesday, i spent the weekend with around 40 people who had been meditating anywhere between decades to days.
I watched videos of lectures about knowing the self, experiencing the silence, being in the state of pure consciousness that is floating in what new physics now claims is the unified filed of all things.
Finally all the whacko stuff i believed in seems to have been scientifically proven and aligned with all religions!
As i am a new meditator (that is what they called me through out the weekend), i have been forewarned that the first stages of practicing this technique are turbulent. I was told i might experience mood swings, irritations, sadness, laughing, crying, etc etc etc...
Cockily, i was sure i wouldn't. Most of the people i know who had taken this course and started meditating are my friends from years, i knew them then, and know them now, and nothing that has been "revealed" to them was news to me. I knew i knew more than they did in their new state of awareness as i have been a dedicated reader of anything that has to do with the secret of being. Cocky, arrogant me was quite sure that the weekend would be quite the smooth sail.
So, come this evening, when i have checked out of the hotel after the retreat to head home, the menady came to collect his parking fee even though i am parked next to the ter3a outside hotel territory, and then walks off, then i back out of my parking spot (patch of sand) directly into an iron pole. Ironically the pole is short enough for me to not see it in my rear view mirror, and tall enough for it to cause a severe dent in the bumper and truck of my almost brand new car.
I step out of the car, i see the damage, the menady comes back. Now even though i have just been told for two days plus, that me, the menady, the car and that pole are all the same thing. That being mad at the menday is being mad at the source and the unified field, that me being upset over something in the relative (i.e my car in this world) is shallow and unevolved, i tell the menady that he is useless and shoo him out of my face, and then i cry for twenty minutes over having bumped my car all by myself, literally having had an accident with the pole in the street.

My fellow meditators (friends) smile at me knowingly, pat my back, tell me to "let it out", and assure me this is very normal after the first weekend as i am going through "purification".
I want to scream that no, i am really crying because i have bumped my brand new car! But they gang up knowingly in their circle of support. I swallow my tears, get back into my wounded car, and drive off in my grey cloud.

I don't know what is worse, to admit that all these people who have turned themselves into guru's and commercialized a traditional treasure are right, or to admit that i was sobbing over a dent in my car for twenty minutes like someone had just died...

Sunday, May 06, 2007

In my Sleep

In my sleep i kept on dreaming
of passionate, softened faces,
then wild places, then one day me
now i dream of days of space
that sit there waiting to be filled
by this and that, by love and want,
by mind and will, by faces still
by replacements for the garbage
in the alleys of the mind
in my sleep i keep repeating:
"I shall not be color blind"

Oh brave souls; you have no fear
you forget the pain
and keep the memories crystal clear
you tear down houses
down to the brick,
and leave your spouses
try every day, just once more
contrary to wishful thinking;
life was never born a whore
In my sleep I sweat repeating;
“I shall stay from fear no more”

I shed my skin one more time,
I wreck my brain
And somehow, someway
I stay sane
Sporadic voices, erratic objects
Presume to mould my life like clay
Oh random things, how clever you
pretend to hold my life like glue
Oh random things, I don't believe
In my sleep I pant repeating:
"All you have to do is leave"

And the soul
it soars higher
and the mind doesn't fight me
every time i desire
and my body doesn't break
when the want in the night
is the want in the wake
So many years spent so lead
with poison flowing in the red
In my sleep i sleep repeating:
"all you need is in this bed"