The rays of expression. - Dedicated to Omar K Hegazy

This blog post is not about me. And it's not a short story. This blog is about another blog.

I just finished reading Omar K Hegazy's blog. And well, let's just say that all I kept thinking when reading it, is that it's a shame that a person like him is burried behind what people think of him. If only people understood what he has to offer to this world, I'm sure everything would be atleast a little bit more exciting.

It's a shame that people can't see beyond what's infront of them. There's so much more to people than they appear to be. And a perfect example of that is Omar. If I was stupid, I would read his blog and laugh. I would laugh at his sentence structure. I would laugh at the way he just uses an arabic word every time he can't find an english word to describe what he wants to say. I would laugh at how he calls Yahia "ya7yo7a". I would laugh at how straight forward some of his statements are.

But all I see is Someone who is expressing himself. And what he has to say is beautiful, simply because it's honest. Omar K hegazy, I am officially proud of you and proud of being your friend. Please write everyday because everytime i read something you write, it makes me happy.

Thank you ya Fandem

Twister

I grew up in a place where it wasn't exactly wise to do anything other than what you were told. I grew up in a battlefield of my own and I understood very well that I was not the most important thing in my family. I knew that at any moment someone would run out of people to hurt and it would be my cue to be prepared to hear things I didnt want to know. I grew up with an unwritten rule that some things can not be shared with my family, and it wasn't long before I learned that the other unwritten rule was to never try to break the unwritten rules. I look back at my self, and sometimes I can't even remember how I got through each day. I was taught that love is enough. Things will be okay because we all love eachother. My parents will stay together because they love us. We will forgive our parents because we love them. We will get over our little fights with eachother, because brothers and sisters just love eachother, it's what they do. We will sit at the dinner table every evening and eat together, because we love eachother. We will take back all the insults the next morning because we love eachother. We will still let that last Mango rot in the fridge because we think the other should eat it, because we love eachother. And we will still hurt eachother, more than we can even bare, because we love eachother.

So, here I am, asking yet another question I dare not ask my family.

What is love?

And if love really was enough, then why do I feel betrayed by the system?

Washing Flags with Beads of Sweat. - (Inspired by Rachel Corrie)

I felt my body tense up at the thought of what was about to happen. I had no choice but to go through with this. My ears were hot and my fists were clenched. I knew this would be good for me, and for my country. I promised my self I would do whatever it takes to Free this country and it's people from it's terror. I promised my self I will not let anyone stop me. I never thought that someone could be me, and now that that's an option, I won't let it happen. I will go out there and do what I have to do. God really does work in mysterious ways, doesn't he? In my attempts to free a whole population, he is pushing me to free my self from my own prison. I unfolded my flag and folded it three times. I was starting to get worried my sweaty palms would stain it. Nothing should ever stain my flag... my people's flag. I watched as everyone else practiced, and wondered if I should be doing that as well. But there was no time to start now, I was meant to do this for the first time with everyone else. No one knew I only memorized what I was supposed to do but never actually tried it. If I'd even attempted to do this before that day I wouldn't have gone through with it, this was the only way to do it.

"They're gone, we lost them in last night's shooting, they were too heavy to carry and we had to leave them behind". I looked at the smile on his face and I knew he knew what I was about to say. "We won't need them, we'll work with what we have". Seeing him, and the hope that so elegantly presented it self to me in the corners of his eyes, and the sweat on his forehead, was all I needed to be prepared to face myself and the rest of the world. I looked at the sun, soon it will be ours again.

"It's time" he was calm enough to make me forget for a second what he was talking about. Everyone grew silent. I watched as everyone took their positions around the house. I felt my heart trying to escape from my rib cage, but there were far more important things now. He took me by the hand and walked with me to my position right infront of the house's door. There I was, holding my brother's hand, desperately hoping he wouldn't notice that I'm shaking. I wasn't afraid of death, I was afraid of losing control. Everyone smiled as the tank finally came into sight, and I wasn't surprised when I realised that twenty of us were standing there, banging their chests with their fists, because like he said, we lost our drums in last night's shooting. The beat was just as intense as it had been when we had the drums. I took a deep breath and let go of my brother's hand. For twenty years, I fought for freedom from this country's opressors and looked death straight in the eyes. But I never thought that one day I would have to dance for this country. I grew up running, running and standing. They were the two options I ever really had.

I unfolded my flag in time with everyone else, and I wrapped it around my chest. I took one more deep breath and waited until the tank was where we wanted it to be. "NOW" I let my voice invade the ears of the ninety people around me. And they immediately started clapping, and aiding our human drums with their feet hitting the ground. I was going to do this, I had to, and I wanted to. I let my arms float above me and my body was moving to the beat. I turned every turn I was supposed to turn. I bent my joints when I was supposed to. I was in sync with everyone around me, and I was in sync with my own heart. I'd never let my body move in any manner that was remotely loose. I felt my mother's necklace float into the air and fall back on my chest with every movement I made. I jumped, and so did everyone else. I just... Danced. The tank was heading straight for us and behind it was the bulldozer. I was facing my only fear, I was dancing and It didn't scare me anymore. I was not afraid of losing control over my own body anymore. Soon when the sun and this land are ours again, there will be no chains around my neck.

The tank stopped, but the bulldozer didn't. I died a free woman. The sun is mine, I am the sun. I did not die in vain. I did not die in vain. I will always hear the sound of my brothers and sisters feet hitting the ground, and their fists beating their chests. They will free themselves, And they will free my country. My heart will always beat with theirs. My heart will always be their drum, because I did not die in vain.

Speaking of Sally...

I lost my temper over a sandwich today. Enough Said.