An excerpt:
".....I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than i care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then i have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance i have been a victim of my own optimism."
I think that is the best expressed written paragraph i have ever read.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Yoga
I do yoga.
I do it twice a week religiously.
I do it even if i am sick, or have to reschedule work.
I do yoga.
My yoga instructor, my teacher, says that everyone does yoga for their own reasons, the only important thing is that you know why you do yoga, so that you can find what you seek.
Let me think.
I do yoga because i like the feeling of pushing myself farther than i can go, and getting there.
Because i like how it feels when i am finally comfortable with a very uncomfortable position.
Because i like feeling the pain of muscles i didn't know i had.
I do yoga because i get to lie on the ground in the middle of the room.
I do yoga because i get to sit still, and switch off my phone, and forget about the world.
I do yoga because it is the only discipline i practice in my life, and it's good to know that i am capable of discipline.
I do yoga because i get to listen to my body, and i get my body to listen to me.
I do yoga because i get to get my mind to shut up.
I do yoga because ever since i started my neck and back stopped hurting, and i can bend and squat without thinking.
I do yoga because i like chanting in a group, and i like that the words i chant mean nothing to me.
I do yoga because it's self indulgent, and because the more i do it, the better things are.
I do yoga to get better, in whatever sense of the word.
At the beginning of every class my teacher talks to us about something, today she talked about having our hearts not too closed, and not too open, having our hearts in balance. In case you didn't know, yoga is all about balance. Then she talked about forgiveness, "forgive the person, but not the act", she talked about forgiveness for a while and then proceeded with the chant that starts our class.
I can't forgive. I want to, but i can't. All through today's class i tried to forgive, i tried to separate myself from the past, separate my experience from the person, separate the person from the act. With every movement and impossible stretch and hold i tried to will my body to let go of it all, "it doesn't matter" i told my body, "you're wasting life" i told my mind. It had been a very long time since i felt myself struggle like that.
My class ended, and as i was tying my shoe laces my teacher sought me out with her eyes and asked me if i was better. It is common practice for a class member to hang back after the rest had left to consult with my teacher on one thing or the other, but i never had.
I sat at her desk, and told her my thoughts without filtering.
"I can't forgive."
"It isn't easy."
"But I know i must, in my mind i have, but in my heart i can't."
"It takes time, it will happen on it's own"
"But in my mind i believe that i must, i want to, for me, i can't bear it, i have never not forgiven anyone, no matter."
"Do you want revenge?"
"No."
"Do you feel self pity?"
"No."
"Then what do you think is stopping you?"
"Pride."
"What was done to you was no about you, you do see."
"In my mind i know that, but a part of me just can't accept that this was done to me."
"You will get there, so long as you keep wanting to."
I do yoga because in the world of yoga this language is normal and unpretentious.
I do yoga because it is the embodiment of the belief of yoga that i can make myself get better, in whatever sense of the word, and nothing is better than that feeling of power over me.
I do it twice a week religiously.
I do it even if i am sick, or have to reschedule work.
I do yoga.
My yoga instructor, my teacher, says that everyone does yoga for their own reasons, the only important thing is that you know why you do yoga, so that you can find what you seek.
Let me think.
I do yoga because i like the feeling of pushing myself farther than i can go, and getting there.
Because i like how it feels when i am finally comfortable with a very uncomfortable position.
Because i like feeling the pain of muscles i didn't know i had.
I do yoga because i get to lie on the ground in the middle of the room.
I do yoga because i get to sit still, and switch off my phone, and forget about the world.
I do yoga because it is the only discipline i practice in my life, and it's good to know that i am capable of discipline.
I do yoga because i get to listen to my body, and i get my body to listen to me.
I do yoga because i get to get my mind to shut up.
I do yoga because ever since i started my neck and back stopped hurting, and i can bend and squat without thinking.
I do yoga because i like chanting in a group, and i like that the words i chant mean nothing to me.
I do yoga because it's self indulgent, and because the more i do it, the better things are.
I do yoga to get better, in whatever sense of the word.
At the beginning of every class my teacher talks to us about something, today she talked about having our hearts not too closed, and not too open, having our hearts in balance. In case you didn't know, yoga is all about balance. Then she talked about forgiveness, "forgive the person, but not the act", she talked about forgiveness for a while and then proceeded with the chant that starts our class.
I can't forgive. I want to, but i can't. All through today's class i tried to forgive, i tried to separate myself from the past, separate my experience from the person, separate the person from the act. With every movement and impossible stretch and hold i tried to will my body to let go of it all, "it doesn't matter" i told my body, "you're wasting life" i told my mind. It had been a very long time since i felt myself struggle like that.
My class ended, and as i was tying my shoe laces my teacher sought me out with her eyes and asked me if i was better. It is common practice for a class member to hang back after the rest had left to consult with my teacher on one thing or the other, but i never had.
I sat at her desk, and told her my thoughts without filtering.
"I can't forgive."
"It isn't easy."
"But I know i must, in my mind i have, but in my heart i can't."
"It takes time, it will happen on it's own"
"But in my mind i believe that i must, i want to, for me, i can't bear it, i have never not forgiven anyone, no matter."
"Do you want revenge?"
"No."
"Do you feel self pity?"
"No."
"Then what do you think is stopping you?"
"Pride."
"What was done to you was no about you, you do see."
"In my mind i know that, but a part of me just can't accept that this was done to me."
"You will get there, so long as you keep wanting to."
I do yoga because in the world of yoga this language is normal and unpretentious.
I do yoga because it is the embodiment of the belief of yoga that i can make myself get better, in whatever sense of the word, and nothing is better than that feeling of power over me.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
F You! (or it's equivalent in arabic)
I did something today that i never ever thought i would do, could do; i gave a man the finger while driving. He did nothing that is exceptional to Cairo driving etiquette, he was coming onto the mansoureya road from a side road too fast and was about to cut me off had i not swerved to the left and insisted on reserving my right to keep going as i was on the main road. But for some odd reason, i was in such a foul mood that i actually did what i have so often resisted doing, after he started cursing and throwing his hands around in protesting gestures, i looked him straight in the eye through my rear view mirror, and gave him the finger while mouthing profanities at him.
I felt a surge of liberation that lasted about ten seconds, after which i realized that i am on the mansoureya road, that this guy could very well jam his old car into my semi-new baby and attempt to scare me off the road into the horrendous ter3a bellow. I locked my doors and pressed on the gas, in what resulted in him lighting a cigarette and engaging me in a car chase that lasted all of 15 minutes where i displayed unbelievable driving skills that even i didn't know i had. I swerved between tractors, karetas and vespas which such smoothness watching him getting repeatedly frustrated as he kept getting stuck behind annoying obstacles with every "stitch" i took. My fear augmented with every near escape, as i was sure that if he caught up with me now he would surely screw me over. After fifteen minutes of this fear driven mania, i reached the highway where my baby gave me an easy outlet as his car is minimum 15 years older. As i unclenched my shoulders, I had to ask myself; was it really worth it? Was giving him the finger and the satisfaction it entailed worth the fifteen minutes of tension?
I dare say it was.
I felt a surge of liberation that lasted about ten seconds, after which i realized that i am on the mansoureya road, that this guy could very well jam his old car into my semi-new baby and attempt to scare me off the road into the horrendous ter3a bellow. I locked my doors and pressed on the gas, in what resulted in him lighting a cigarette and engaging me in a car chase that lasted all of 15 minutes where i displayed unbelievable driving skills that even i didn't know i had. I swerved between tractors, karetas and vespas which such smoothness watching him getting repeatedly frustrated as he kept getting stuck behind annoying obstacles with every "stitch" i took. My fear augmented with every near escape, as i was sure that if he caught up with me now he would surely screw me over. After fifteen minutes of this fear driven mania, i reached the highway where my baby gave me an easy outlet as his car is minimum 15 years older. As i unclenched my shoulders, I had to ask myself; was it really worth it? Was giving him the finger and the satisfaction it entailed worth the fifteen minutes of tension?
I dare say it was.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Four
I have loved four men in my life. According to statistics that say that the average person falls in love six times in a lifetime, i have only two left, but then again some people fall in love once or twice, and others never fall at all, maybe this would allow me the luxury of falling in and out for the rest of my days... so anyway; four men in my life.
Over the course of the past five years all this has happened. The first one is the only one i knew from longer, this thought leaves me wondering how my life would've been different had i not moved to France... I probably would've still been in love with him.
I am big on learning from my experiences. I am big on so many things as any follower of this blog would have noticed, but one of the things i am biggest on, is learning from my experiences.
My first love is until today my fiercest love, i often wonder how much of that love was abuse, addiction, lust and youthful notions, and the beauty of life is; i will never know. My first love was according to my experience of love, my fiercest, it was the love for someone i would have actually died for, the love for someone i could not bear the thought of being without, it was a love that intoxicated my every thought and action. It was an obsession, it was uncontrollable, an avalanche of emotions that would not stop. I lost friends and family because of him, i lost myself for a long time because of who i was when i wanted him. I was always either ecstatic or devastated. I never gave anyone more, and i never hated myself more than at the end of that relationship. My first love taught me all the terrible things that love can turn into. And from learning that i learnt all the things that i would never do again. My first love taught me self worth, emotional independence, my devastation at the loss of him taught me that nothing was worth losing myself. My first love gave me the basics that many are born with, and i was absolutely unaware of. My first love broke me down so i could build myself again from scratch. My first love is why i moved to France.
My first love taught me, that even when the unimaginable happens, life goes on.
My second love was a dream. He had me at what was possibly even before a first glance, he had me at my being exposed to his aura before we met, he had me at that smile, and the memory holds power over me still. If i counted all the days that i have been with this man, in the geographical sense, they would not amount to two weeks, and they would be scattered months apart. My second love defied distance, defied logic, defied boundaries, my second love was a merging of the souls. Everything was beautiful when i was with him, geographically, spiritually, on the phone or in a dream, everything was beautiful and full of love. Together we were fire, we completed each other's sentences the second day we met, he played the piano for me and i wrote love letters to him. My second love was perfection, my second love was a dream. My second love solidified my belief in other lifetimes, where surely we were lovers all our life, in a time where the circumstances were not so impossible. My second love taught me freedom, my second love taught me that love was absolutely irrational.
My third love was the only real love i ever had. He loved me slowly, and i loved him dearly. He showed me what it was to accept a person fully; he saw wonderment in all i did, and i saw perfection in all his flaws. The only real love i ever had, my third love taught me that love was in the simple things; we cooked, we read, we got drunk, we watched TV, we sat in silence, we walked, we drove, we played, we laughed, he put flowers in my hair and was my nurse when i was sick. My third love taught me all about today, live today, have fun today, you are magnificent today. My third love taught me to be in love with him today, just today, for the better part of a year and a half. He taught me things about the world, simple things and simple ways to use my hands. My third love was a bully with a weak spot for me, he taught me how to scream at him and how to pack his stuff in a bag and gracefully dump it at his feet when he pushed me too far. My third love was a tough guy who let himself be a little boy with me. I loved him dearly, i loved him completely, and the last day i was with him was the last day i could do it and still be on my feet.
My third love taught me that even a love so complete, was not enough.
My fourth love happened to me. There is no other way to put it, he came into my life forcefully, and left unexpectedly, i had very little input to what has been my fourth love, i had consented to neither, and all that is in between is lost to me in a world between fiction and fact. Had my heart not still been burdened with sadness i would not have thought it to have been a love at all, but if i am to be true to myself i must say that i loved, the question of who or what i loved will remain forever unanswered, but i did feel love, and in my books that counts.
My fourth love came into my life for one reason only; to teach me how to be loved. For i believed through-out that he loved me utterly, and adored me endlessly and treated me accordingly, and that was very very hard for me. My fourth love taught me how to be loved, a lesson that no one had succeeded in teaching me before. Had he not been the ruthless man that he is, he would have probably failed. My fourth love taught me to open myself to someones love, and to fall in love as a result of being loved.
After i lost my first love and reaped the consequences of never being able to speak with him again, i vowed never to lose my friend with the lover, with the second forgiveness came easily, and i traveled to the ends of the earth to make sure that i would not lose my friend with the third. My vow broke with the fourth, and it is every bit as sour as i remember it from three years ago. All of these men broke my heart, if not a lot then a little, i often wonder if that is why they are the only memorable ones from a list that is three or four times as long.
Between the four of them i have learnt how strongly i can love and still go on after loss, that it's beautiful to surrender to the madness of love, that love alone in all it's fullness is not enough, and i learnt how to be loved.
I have learnt all this in some of the most beautiful places in the world, i have learnt all this and i am only 27 and now with a man who i know loves me more than all of them did combined.
I have learnt all this and come out sane, oh how i doubted that i would ever call myself sane.
I have loved four men in my life, and i am all the better for it, now please if you have lasted this far down the post, cross your fingers for me that i will not need to do it more than this one more time.
Over the course of the past five years all this has happened. The first one is the only one i knew from longer, this thought leaves me wondering how my life would've been different had i not moved to France... I probably would've still been in love with him.
I am big on learning from my experiences. I am big on so many things as any follower of this blog would have noticed, but one of the things i am biggest on, is learning from my experiences.
My first love is until today my fiercest love, i often wonder how much of that love was abuse, addiction, lust and youthful notions, and the beauty of life is; i will never know. My first love was according to my experience of love, my fiercest, it was the love for someone i would have actually died for, the love for someone i could not bear the thought of being without, it was a love that intoxicated my every thought and action. It was an obsession, it was uncontrollable, an avalanche of emotions that would not stop. I lost friends and family because of him, i lost myself for a long time because of who i was when i wanted him. I was always either ecstatic or devastated. I never gave anyone more, and i never hated myself more than at the end of that relationship. My first love taught me all the terrible things that love can turn into. And from learning that i learnt all the things that i would never do again. My first love taught me self worth, emotional independence, my devastation at the loss of him taught me that nothing was worth losing myself. My first love gave me the basics that many are born with, and i was absolutely unaware of. My first love broke me down so i could build myself again from scratch. My first love is why i moved to France.
My first love taught me, that even when the unimaginable happens, life goes on.
My second love was a dream. He had me at what was possibly even before a first glance, he had me at my being exposed to his aura before we met, he had me at that smile, and the memory holds power over me still. If i counted all the days that i have been with this man, in the geographical sense, they would not amount to two weeks, and they would be scattered months apart. My second love defied distance, defied logic, defied boundaries, my second love was a merging of the souls. Everything was beautiful when i was with him, geographically, spiritually, on the phone or in a dream, everything was beautiful and full of love. Together we were fire, we completed each other's sentences the second day we met, he played the piano for me and i wrote love letters to him. My second love was perfection, my second love was a dream. My second love solidified my belief in other lifetimes, where surely we were lovers all our life, in a time where the circumstances were not so impossible. My second love taught me freedom, my second love taught me that love was absolutely irrational.
My third love was the only real love i ever had. He loved me slowly, and i loved him dearly. He showed me what it was to accept a person fully; he saw wonderment in all i did, and i saw perfection in all his flaws. The only real love i ever had, my third love taught me that love was in the simple things; we cooked, we read, we got drunk, we watched TV, we sat in silence, we walked, we drove, we played, we laughed, he put flowers in my hair and was my nurse when i was sick. My third love taught me all about today, live today, have fun today, you are magnificent today. My third love taught me to be in love with him today, just today, for the better part of a year and a half. He taught me things about the world, simple things and simple ways to use my hands. My third love was a bully with a weak spot for me, he taught me how to scream at him and how to pack his stuff in a bag and gracefully dump it at his feet when he pushed me too far. My third love was a tough guy who let himself be a little boy with me. I loved him dearly, i loved him completely, and the last day i was with him was the last day i could do it and still be on my feet.
My third love taught me that even a love so complete, was not enough.
My fourth love happened to me. There is no other way to put it, he came into my life forcefully, and left unexpectedly, i had very little input to what has been my fourth love, i had consented to neither, and all that is in between is lost to me in a world between fiction and fact. Had my heart not still been burdened with sadness i would not have thought it to have been a love at all, but if i am to be true to myself i must say that i loved, the question of who or what i loved will remain forever unanswered, but i did feel love, and in my books that counts.
My fourth love came into my life for one reason only; to teach me how to be loved. For i believed through-out that he loved me utterly, and adored me endlessly and treated me accordingly, and that was very very hard for me. My fourth love taught me how to be loved, a lesson that no one had succeeded in teaching me before. Had he not been the ruthless man that he is, he would have probably failed. My fourth love taught me to open myself to someones love, and to fall in love as a result of being loved.
After i lost my first love and reaped the consequences of never being able to speak with him again, i vowed never to lose my friend with the lover, with the second forgiveness came easily, and i traveled to the ends of the earth to make sure that i would not lose my friend with the third. My vow broke with the fourth, and it is every bit as sour as i remember it from three years ago. All of these men broke my heart, if not a lot then a little, i often wonder if that is why they are the only memorable ones from a list that is three or four times as long.
Between the four of them i have learnt how strongly i can love and still go on after loss, that it's beautiful to surrender to the madness of love, that love alone in all it's fullness is not enough, and i learnt how to be loved.
I have learnt all this in some of the most beautiful places in the world, i have learnt all this and i am only 27 and now with a man who i know loves me more than all of them did combined.
I have learnt all this and come out sane, oh how i doubted that i would ever call myself sane.
I have loved four men in my life, and i am all the better for it, now please if you have lasted this far down the post, cross your fingers for me that i will not need to do it more than this one more time.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Parts of Me
Love, i write you,
now that i am home
away from the days of being
with you yet alone
love, i write to bid
farewell to that part
that all this while has been
resting in your heart
to the me that one day wanted
a you that's now long gone
Love today i release
the me that only you have known
I write to say goodbye
to the part of me i left with you
Love, i have, i am, i do
a part of me will always
be in love with you
now that i am home
away from the days of being
with you yet alone
love, i write to bid
farewell to that part
that all this while has been
resting in your heart
to the me that one day wanted
a you that's now long gone
Love today i release
the me that only you have known
I write to say goodbye
to the part of me i left with you
Love, i have, i am, i do
a part of me will always
be in love with you
Saturday, March 15, 2008
On being Smothered
So i went and got myself into another relationship. I know, don't ask, i actually tried to stay single this time, but it just never works out. And as vain as it sounds, being unable to stay single, it has nothing to do with being super attractive or anything, if you ran into me nineteen times out of twenty i will be without make-up, with messy tied up hair and needing to lose a few kilo's, i frown alot and am not very interested in what most people have to say, i'm aloof and seemingly quite self absorbed, and at work i am seriously no fun. Yet somehow i am never without a man's interest. I think it's the independent flair i give off, i guess men feel that if they can make me need them then they have proven to be more manly than man. Maybe that's the explanation, or whatever.
so anyway, i just wish i knew why men needed to smother women so much? And it's always in the beginning of a relationship, always. Thank God my current guy knows me well enough to know better than to baby talk me like some of my exes, but then again i know him well enough to puke all over him if he did! Why do men treat women like they are toddlers in the beginning of relationships? Why the cuteness factor? You know why it bugs me so much? We all know it's not real. We all know that the men wont be keeping it up, that it's not a genuine emotion, it just comes with the novelty of the relationship i guess, this whole i am crazy about you and i finally got you and you're my little precious thing. Luckily i know better than to up and leave as a result of this, as i have seen how time and time again it dwindles over time.
I just wish i could fast forward the first ten weeks of it, fast forward to the good stuff, the sexy talk, the buddy drinking, the fun trips, the pool games, the bickering over chores.
I like it real, what can i say?
Fast forward, please.
so anyway, i just wish i knew why men needed to smother women so much? And it's always in the beginning of a relationship, always. Thank God my current guy knows me well enough to know better than to baby talk me like some of my exes, but then again i know him well enough to puke all over him if he did! Why do men treat women like they are toddlers in the beginning of relationships? Why the cuteness factor? You know why it bugs me so much? We all know it's not real. We all know that the men wont be keeping it up, that it's not a genuine emotion, it just comes with the novelty of the relationship i guess, this whole i am crazy about you and i finally got you and you're my little precious thing. Luckily i know better than to up and leave as a result of this, as i have seen how time and time again it dwindles over time.
I just wish i could fast forward the first ten weeks of it, fast forward to the good stuff, the sexy talk, the buddy drinking, the fun trips, the pool games, the bickering over chores.
I like it real, what can i say?
Fast forward, please.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Days of Black
I wont wear black
no i wont wear black
you know i'd paint the world that color
if wearing that color
would bring you back
I can still feel the heat
pass from your fingers to mine
I can still see you little underneath that sheet
before the grief replaced
the fear that numbed my spine
And now i tread the day
wishing reality away
wishing i knew
how people who love you this much
can say goodbye to you
I fight back tears
saving them for those who will miss you more
I bite back streams
I know you know i'd cry you rivers
if that would make the world, like it was before
I can't wear black
over you, no i can't wear black
over the freeing of love
over you going home
I just can't wear black
you know i'd paint the whole world that color
if wearing that color, would take all this back
no i wont wear black
you know i'd paint the world that color
if wearing that color
would bring you back
I can still feel the heat
pass from your fingers to mine
I can still see you little underneath that sheet
before the grief replaced
the fear that numbed my spine
And now i tread the day
wishing reality away
wishing i knew
how people who love you this much
can say goodbye to you
I fight back tears
saving them for those who will miss you more
I bite back streams
I know you know i'd cry you rivers
if that would make the world, like it was before
I can't wear black
over you, no i can't wear black
over the freeing of love
over you going home
I just can't wear black
you know i'd paint the whole world that color
if wearing that color, would take all this back
Monday, February 18, 2008
Pray
If you pass through here, please take a moment to pray.
Pray for a girl recovering from a hemorrhage
She's a mother of two and adored by everyone who's met her.
She is the light of her family's life.
She's 35.
She has curly hair and a sunny smile.
She is beautiful and full of life.
Picture her and pray. Please.
Pray for a girl recovering from a hemorrhage
She's a mother of two and adored by everyone who's met her.
She is the light of her family's life.
She's 35.
She has curly hair and a sunny smile.
She is beautiful and full of life.
Picture her and pray. Please.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
Exorcism
My ever polite and charming, compulsive lying, turned out to be married and with child after a year of dating me ex boyfriend sent me a text message yesterday; wishing me a great night, and a happy valentine. After running off like a six year old who soiled his pants in class - never to return to class again- when i dug up a marriage and child and realized his absolute incomprehension of the value of truth and genuine incapability of telling any coherent non-contradicting fact, this person sends me a text message, wishing me a great night, on valentines day.
I was at that very minute, having a great night. I was out with friends unwinding after the long week and having a very intimate moment with my glass of wine. I was sitting next to my best friend, toying with the idea of just how much i can flirt with him tonight without needing to consent to officially starting to date him. I was unwound and happy, and looking forward to a relaxing weekend.
And then i got the text message, wishing me a great night.
In his style of words, it had been 94 days, 18 hours and some number of minutes since the last time i looked forward to receiving a message from him.
My stomach flipped, my hands started shaking and i reached out for the first cigarette of many to come that night.
So, ex boyfriend, this one's for you and for me and this world you love so much and frequent so often in different shapes and forms unaware of just how dangerous your little fun can be;
I am only ever interested in hearing from you if you decide to seek professional help.
If you wake up one day sick of living ground hog day.
If you google the word sociopath, and something rings a bell, and you freak out.
I am only ever interested in hearing from you then.
Until then may the God you don't believe in protect you from harms way, and protect those who cross paths with you from taking you too seriously. And rest assured that there is no need to wish me happy days, my days are happy away from you.
From all my heart; be well and good bye,
N
I was at that very minute, having a great night. I was out with friends unwinding after the long week and having a very intimate moment with my glass of wine. I was sitting next to my best friend, toying with the idea of just how much i can flirt with him tonight without needing to consent to officially starting to date him. I was unwound and happy, and looking forward to a relaxing weekend.
And then i got the text message, wishing me a great night.
In his style of words, it had been 94 days, 18 hours and some number of minutes since the last time i looked forward to receiving a message from him.
My stomach flipped, my hands started shaking and i reached out for the first cigarette of many to come that night.
So, ex boyfriend, this one's for you and for me and this world you love so much and frequent so often in different shapes and forms unaware of just how dangerous your little fun can be;
I am only ever interested in hearing from you if you decide to seek professional help.
If you wake up one day sick of living ground hog day.
If you google the word sociopath, and something rings a bell, and you freak out.
I am only ever interested in hearing from you then.
Until then may the God you don't believe in protect you from harms way, and protect those who cross paths with you from taking you too seriously. And rest assured that there is no need to wish me happy days, my days are happy away from you.
From all my heart; be well and good bye,
N
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Promises
I promised you that i would love you
every day that i would live
I promised you that my hands
would always find and ease your pain
I promised you that i would smile
every day you spent with me
I promised you that i would stay
no matter what, that i would stay
I tried
oh how i tried
Only to wake up one day finding
that when i promised
I must have lied
There was no air;
My skin could no longer bear your whipping
I could no longer watch the dripping off my back
onto your floor
And i left
And broke the ties that held my soul
in its place right next to you
I tried my love, i really tried
Seems when i told you i needed nothing -
I must have lied
I found myself one day breathless
and my soul found itself homeless
And my softness for you
squirming in its pain just died
Seems when i promised i needed nothing
I must have lied
September 05
every day that i would live
I promised you that my hands
would always find and ease your pain
I promised you that i would smile
every day you spent with me
I promised you that i would stay
no matter what, that i would stay
I tried
oh how i tried
Only to wake up one day finding
that when i promised
I must have lied
There was no air;
My skin could no longer bear your whipping
I could no longer watch the dripping off my back
onto your floor
And i left
And broke the ties that held my soul
in its place right next to you
I tried my love, i really tried
Seems when i told you i needed nothing -
I must have lied
I found myself one day breathless
and my soul found itself homeless
And my softness for you
squirming in its pain just died
Seems when i promised i needed nothing
I must have lied
September 05
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
The Benchmark
It's true; the more people you date, the pickier you get. Once upon a time i used to be oblivious to people's faults, i would only see what made them sunny and charming, once upon a time indeed.
I have been getting out much more in the past few weeks, i've ran into people i hadn't seen in years, i've met new people, and i've had conversations with people i always knew but never really got to talk to, and since i am absolutely uninterested in dating at the moment, i have naturally been getting advances left right and center, for some reason this is how the world works.
So a nice enough guy starts talking to me, and ten minutes into the conversation i can only think of how i am going to exit this conversation. I never thought i was vain, but i'm afraid i must be, it is not natural that i find almost every guy i talk to either too cocky, or too boring, or too chatty, or too fickle, or too shallow, or too vulnerable, or too something that will make him unstimulating. It's like i have a sensor that goes off when i pick up on a trait that i know doesn't sit well with me, it's as if through the gazillion guys i have dated all i have been doing is accumulating character traits that turn me off! You see the first guy you date, you don't know that him being pessimistic could actually spoil it for you, the second guy you date you make sure that he isn't pessimistic, but have no clue that him being full of himself will bore you to death, the third guy you date you make sure he is not pessimistic and not full of himself and after three weeks you can't tolerate his temper for one more day that you have to bail. So what i know now is that i can't be with anyone who is pessimistic, whiny, chatty, passive, dependent, lazy, stingy, bad tempered, possessive, cruel, a high school dropout, sexist, irrational, controlling, rigid, judgmental, hesitant, promiscuous, gay, manipulative or a liar.
And thats what i know, imagine what i don't know...
I put this snobbishness of mine down to being fresh out of a messy dramatic breakup, and thought; ok, since you are in a good place and so off dating, just hang out with your close friends and have fun. So i did that, and then bam! My best guy friend of 100 years pulled a stunt on me and suggested the development of our friendship into more. I have known this guy for 8 solid years, and now i find myself looking at him as one would a nicely wrapped package that you can hear ticking because you are absolutely sure there is a bomb inside. My first thoughts when he told me where, oh shit, now you are going to turn into something absolutely devastatingly intolerable that i am yet to discover... while my mom and friends look at me in bewilderment that i am not jumping at the chance to land such a great guy.
I think i am turning into one of those guys who see any form of a relationship as a potential hazard and an eternal threat to their peace of mind. I so get you guys now! I have alot of single ahead of me, i hope...
P.S: i said almost every guy, some conversations are still fun, thank god for that.
I have been getting out much more in the past few weeks, i've ran into people i hadn't seen in years, i've met new people, and i've had conversations with people i always knew but never really got to talk to, and since i am absolutely uninterested in dating at the moment, i have naturally been getting advances left right and center, for some reason this is how the world works.
So a nice enough guy starts talking to me, and ten minutes into the conversation i can only think of how i am going to exit this conversation. I never thought i was vain, but i'm afraid i must be, it is not natural that i find almost every guy i talk to either too cocky, or too boring, or too chatty, or too fickle, or too shallow, or too vulnerable, or too something that will make him unstimulating. It's like i have a sensor that goes off when i pick up on a trait that i know doesn't sit well with me, it's as if through the gazillion guys i have dated all i have been doing is accumulating character traits that turn me off! You see the first guy you date, you don't know that him being pessimistic could actually spoil it for you, the second guy you date you make sure that he isn't pessimistic, but have no clue that him being full of himself will bore you to death, the third guy you date you make sure he is not pessimistic and not full of himself and after three weeks you can't tolerate his temper for one more day that you have to bail. So what i know now is that i can't be with anyone who is pessimistic, whiny, chatty, passive, dependent, lazy, stingy, bad tempered, possessive, cruel, a high school dropout, sexist, irrational, controlling, rigid, judgmental, hesitant, promiscuous, gay, manipulative or a liar.
And thats what i know, imagine what i don't know...
I put this snobbishness of mine down to being fresh out of a messy dramatic breakup, and thought; ok, since you are in a good place and so off dating, just hang out with your close friends and have fun. So i did that, and then bam! My best guy friend of 100 years pulled a stunt on me and suggested the development of our friendship into more. I have known this guy for 8 solid years, and now i find myself looking at him as one would a nicely wrapped package that you can hear ticking because you are absolutely sure there is a bomb inside. My first thoughts when he told me where, oh shit, now you are going to turn into something absolutely devastatingly intolerable that i am yet to discover... while my mom and friends look at me in bewilderment that i am not jumping at the chance to land such a great guy.
I think i am turning into one of those guys who see any form of a relationship as a potential hazard and an eternal threat to their peace of mind. I so get you guys now! I have alot of single ahead of me, i hope...
P.S: i said almost every guy, some conversations are still fun, thank god for that.
Friday, January 11, 2008
To Dye or not to Dye
My hair color is back to its natural shade, thanks to non ammonia containing wash out dyes that eventually fade out only leaving a hint of the dark red i use (this information is only useful if at all interesting to female readers, and i'm aware of that), and now i am contemplating what to do next...
It is now a darkish brown that has a reddish and sometimes yellowish (can't say blondish) aura in the sun. Now i know very few of you have any clue of what i'm going on about as very few of you have seen me, but i am now wondering what to do with my hair color so indulge me.
The options are:
1. Dark red again (as per picture on left)
2. Leave as is and stay on the dark brown conventional side for the winter
3. Go lighter and get light brown/dark blond highlights, the key word here would be "subtle"
I am most inclined to option 2, it's been a while since i had my own shade, however, the red gets tons of compliments, and the lighter is something i've never done before so could be a nice change, however again, high lights must be done using ammonia, and ammonia fucks the hair.
Input?
It is now a darkish brown that has a reddish and sometimes yellowish (can't say blondish) aura in the sun. Now i know very few of you have any clue of what i'm going on about as very few of you have seen me, but i am now wondering what to do with my hair color so indulge me.
The options are:
1. Dark red again (as per picture on left)
2. Leave as is and stay on the dark brown conventional side for the winter
3. Go lighter and get light brown/dark blond highlights, the key word here would be "subtle"
I am most inclined to option 2, it's been a while since i had my own shade, however, the red gets tons of compliments, and the lighter is something i've never done before so could be a nice change, however again, high lights must be done using ammonia, and ammonia fucks the hair.
Input?
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Things I've learnt
- Quitting when you're ahead is under rated
- A good pizza is a rare commodity
- First kisses almost always suck
- Holding out is over rated
- Hardly anyone ever returns the wine bottle after tasting it
- Ice skating is not for everyone
- An ego is only as large as you inflate it
- Tequila doesn't go well with ka7k el 3eid
- Rebounds work
- If forgiveness is not possible, forgetfulness will do
- Clever is sometimes very stupid
- No one is keeping score
- Credit cards are malicious
- Time flies either way
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