The red apple, and the triangle.

 Why is It that I can never sleep when I'm sick? I know people that sleep 24/7 when they're sick. Well I'm sick and I didnt get any sleep in 2 days. Well actually I slept for one hour, half of it was on my sister's couch, the other half hour was in the car on the way back home. When I finally get to sleep when I'm sick, I always get one of those fevered dreams. You know, those dreams where it seems like the whole universe is saying everything they want to say at once, in your ears. Another thing, when I'm sick, my left eye always seems wider than my right eye. I don't think there's a medical explanation for that, maybe they;re always that way and when Im sick I have so much time on my hands that I actually notice pathetic little details.

For the past 2 weeks my life seemed to crash a thousand little crashes and curl the wrecks into little piles of nothings. I watched them roll and meet at the same spot at my feet. And now that I'm here, I can;t help but to laugh at how all I have left is myself. Everything I thought I had, everything I thought I'd achieved, everything is down there at my feet. And I really don't mind right now. Because things are meant to change, And every once in a while, the blocks you set up to build the wrong thing fall apart on their own, because the foundation was never right in the first place. so here I am, impatiently waiting for something that will point in the right direction.

I had a very fascinating conversation with Shehab E. Ali. which actually made me doubt everything I know. Not because I was convinced by anything he said, oh hell no. But actually because HE was so convinced by it all. I looked him straight in the eye and told him he was wrong about everything he ever stood for, and he didn't even have to think before he shot back "I'm right" at me. Though I'm pretty sure he had no Idea what he was talking about, that's a different story. But what startled me, and brought me to tears, was how sure he was of what he was saying. All of us truly think we're right, and it's very hard for us to believe otherwise. Whatever it is we're thinking, it makes sense to us. That's why it's there. If it doesn't make sense to others, we still think we're right. We know best. We've been through what taught us that we know best. And there's always someone that will disagree. And the scary part is, I could very easily be him. I could live with a thought in my head long enough to never give it a chance to shake itself out of my head.

A pink floyd pin found it's way to me a week ago. And I was surprised at how easily I let it into my life. Very few people have an idea what that pin could mean to me, And I'm keeping it that way. I smile at how easy it was to buy it, I can't say the same about owning it though, that's uncomfortable to say the least.

I've been reading twighlight for the past three weeks, just to figure out why this would be every teenager's favorite book. And I am seriously bored out of my mind. okay, I have to admit that Edward cullen's one charming vampire, but I'd chose fitzwilliam darcy (from pride and prejudice) any day. The eye-crossing part about this whole thing, is bella. I mean seriously, look at Elizabeth (again, a pride and prejudice reference) she's smart, witty, kind, SMART again. seriously, where's the creativity in writing a character like bella. What is so fascinating about a teenage girl that trips more than she talks. And seriously how does the author expect us to believe that they just fell inlove after talking twice. and by the way, VAMPIRES DO NOT SPARKLE. back to bella, I don't think a person like her deserves to be loved. It just doesnt make sense, she can't stand on her own two feet, both literally and metaphorically. I guess I'm being harsh on her. This is just my feminist self taking over the keyboard. I guess all of this would've been more tolerable if teenagers had kept their mouths shut about it. Just like the jonas brothers, I actually believe they aren't that bad. What makes them obnoxious is the hype. Enough about that..

And enough from me today, go be your productive selves.

Why I don't like chocolate...

I don't want to wake up one day and realise that I've lost my self. I don't want to get caught up in rapid changes and then one day, my one and only worry is which one of those little brats is going to do the dishes. I dont want to walk around waiting for someone to ask me how I am so I can finally trigger my tear glands and cry on cue. I don't want to be the person that would lose people because I don't have the energy to work on things with them. I don't want to smoke. I don't want to give away the family cat because someone told me I'm irresponsible for keeping a cat around when I have daughters. I don't want to care about things I know I don't care about now. I don't want to learn to watch movies after someone ruined them for me or told me anything about the story. I don't want to. I don't want to start liking chocolate because everyone says it's so amazing.

What is it with chocolate anyway? I mean I can appreciate a good cup of hot chocolate (oh and a tip: try adding a pinch of hot chilli to hot chocolate. You won't regret it), can't say anything about that. But seriously.. why chocolate? why not cheese? and why not sour lollipops. why not passion fruit? Why chocolate? why something that sweet? why not something less boring and more intense. why not something exciting? why something so.. so.. easy to understand? life is not like that. it's not that sweet and simple. It's lovable, but not that boring and not that good.

I can't get the image of her smiling out of my head. it's all I see everytime I let my mind drift to the thought of her. All I see is the image of her laughing, her incredibly loud laugh echoeing in the streets of egypt. Her eyes as beautiful as always, have tears in them. I don't know what to do when I see her. Everytime I try to imagine it, I find it hard to breathe and see right again. I don't think I was ever this scared of seeing someone I love before. It's been long, longer than I thought this silence would last. Everytime I go to sleep I meet her. And even then I always break down and cry. But I can't cry when I see her this time, I can't cry on her wedding day. I can't do that. I just realised that now that she's getting married, chances of me and her being friends like we used to be have become very slim. I never really understood why she stopped talking to me. She always seemed to care more about me than she showed. And the thought that I might have cared about her more than she cared about me is scary. For the first time in about 6 years, I feel like I'm worth absolutely nothing to someone I love. I hate the fact that I'm crying. And I hate being this person who would dwell on something I lost almost a year ago, but I've never talked about this before. I am so rediculously happy, she's finally found the person she wanted to find. The person that will give her more than he asks of her. The person that will understand her, and understand that she really isnt crazy. Someone that will know what I knew. Someone that will see that she should have songs and books and endless paintings all created about her. I sometimes wish I would just stop dreaming about her every single time I fall asleep, and other days I wish the dreams were longer.

If this is what life is really like, if people are really supposed to be like this, then I dont want it. I don't want it all. I don't want to ever find sense in the abandonment of a friend.

I guess I've said enough about the half empty glass. I will be up again screaming away about the half full one as soon as I have the energy to let any good thing sink into my system.

The Art of Giving In to Gravity.

I have two followers.. TWO! yay... two people want to get notified when I have more blabbering to scribble onto here. I find that flattering. Really =] I think I might be going bald. And I'm new to the whole little hair on my head from the front section of my scalp thing. I was always the girl with 3 shades of brown away from a lion's mane. But things change, don't they? And I know how to stop my hair from completely falling off of my head.. I'm just careless. I know that if I stop treating it like it's the strongest part of my body, and pulling it out when I'm nervous, It'll be fine. I also know that if I tend to it more, and make that visit to the hairdresser every four weeks to have it trimmed, it'll be fine. And I know that if I wash it less, and if I use better conditioner, it'll be fine. But I just don't do it.

Just like how I know that if I concentrate in class for once in my life, I'll get the sacred "EMTEYAZ". I also know that if I kept one notebook for the whole semester instead of 3, It would make it easier to find my notes. And I know that if I'd studied for one hour every day, I wouldn't need to study 9 chapters of economics 4 days before the final. And one thing I'm sure of, If I actually study the 9 chapters in those 4 days, things will not be so bad. But no, I have to waste three days out of the four. I try to convince myself, when I'm sitting there trying to process a semester's worth of information in 6 hours (oh yea.. not even 24), that this keeps happening because in the back of my mind, I love the excitement of doing everything in the last minute. And that if I hadn't pushed all of this to the last minute, I wouldn't do any better, because I wouldn't remember anything on the exam day anyway. And for a moment there, that automatic "Yeah.. Right, whatever makes you sleep at night" recording that usually responds as fast as one of those quacking rubber ducks defaults. And it happens to start working again the second I get my examination paper. And as I claw back the thought of tears I have a pressing wish in my circus of a mind. Not going back in time, no, but I find my self wishing I'd not let this happen again. And unlike most wishes, I always find a way to not let this particular wish come true.

You know what's hilarious about this? I still truly believe that I can change the world, or at least this country. But as my own version of Nesma nafea's quote says. "da isA lama el samak yerkab beskelleta". Right at this moment, my life actually boiled down to the image of a fish, maybe a blow fish because that just makes it funnier, riding into the sunset on a bicycle. And just for this hint of a moment, My idea of hope is that actually happening somehow. But I still haven't given up on my self. Because as pathetic as all of this may seem, I still manage to laugh at myself, and I still have the energy to derive an image of a blow fish, wearing a hat, and sunglasses, riding away on a bicycle out of all of this.

The truth is, I'm terrified that I really am that weak insignificant mute little girl that I keep locked away in the corner of my mind. I'm afraid that one day, when I'm older, I look back and laugh at myself now. And not the "I can;t believe I was that confused, haha" laugh. Rather, the cynical "I can't believe I actually had hope, meh" laugh, is the laugh that scares me. I'm scared of being older, and trying to remember what exactly I was thinking when I decided that I will reject any opportunity I am offered (which happen to be alot by the way) to get out of this country. I am afraid of my certainty that I was made for a reason. I catch myself EVERYDAY, getting images of my own death, and the scary part is not death, its the idea of dying before I can lay down on the floor somewhere, take a deep breath, close my eyes, and say to myself "This is what you were born to do, this is why you went through everything you went through, this why you had to make all these mistakes, to get here. this is why you are needed... It was worth the wait"

I'm so little, I really am. And I hate to make myself believe that I'm bigger than I am. But I'm little for now. I hope I'm little for now. And I hope I'm getting in my own way now, so I can learn to get out of my own way later.

"But you're neither friend or foe, though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know, is that you're keeping me down" - Gravity (Sara Bareilles)

The Weakness Behind My Independence

Hey there blog reading people. I am here again, and I've reset my password for the 6th time this month. It's not exactly easy to remember all my thirty-something passwords to all the different accounts. But after reading Safeya's blog, and her first entry, I felt an unstoppable urge to see what my first blog entry was. And I realised I actually have four blogs. I seriously have to stop this vicious cycle, like right now. Before I forget, Safeya, yes! People who just enjoy making themselves feeling pathetic are getting old, and they should be shot dead. And though I'm not exactly one to judge, because I was one of those people, now that those days are long gone, I think I deserved to be shot dead back then too.

I think this blog is a disgrace, maybe this entry is not so bad, but as a part time editor I should know how to make an entry look good. I just looked at the entries before this one, I wanted to burn them. I always do that, I always know how to fix other people, and I have no idea how to fix me.

I believe that if people were to be unhappy or miserable, they could write about it, sing about it, draw about it, talk about it, but they don't have the right to live about it. I hate the fact that that last sentence has to be grammatically incorrect in order for me to prove my point. Sometimes I wonder how many wrong bridges I'd cross just to prove an over blown point. How many people will I push away just to prove I'm independent? How many annoying people will I endure just to prove that I believe everyone deserves a second chance? How many numbers will I change before I finally admit that I really want to cut off alot of people out of my life? How many pop songs will I not listen to, to prove that I'm a strict rock fan. How many Idiots will I listen to just to prove that I'm patient? How many twists and turns will I make my brain do just to prove that I'm flexible? And the thing that really has me spending that extra fifteen minutes in the shower thinking about everything and nothing, is that I'm not really trying to prove any of this to anyone but myself.

*sigh*... For the past year, I've been chasing around my female friends urging them to not get into any relationships, and maybe they could wait a couple of years before they commit. Because I believe a commitment can't really be made unless you already know what else you want to do with you're life, then you can factor a partner into that. There were two major girls that I was focusing my efforts of persuasion on. One of them is now in a relationship, and so is the other, but the other one is claiming to be in love yet she's not in a relationship. Convincing, isn't she?
It may seem a little weird that I give a rat's ass about whether or not my friends getting into relationships or not, but there's logic behind it.

One can not learn to love another, Until they learn to love their self.
One can not learn to depend on others, or let others depend on them, unless they learn to depend on them selves.

so now both these girls are involved in some sort of romance, and one seems happy, the other loves running in circles (and she's happy xD). And I still think I'm right. I'm happy they're happy, but I don't think I'll ever be able to do that, just let go and let my happiness be linked to someone else.. not now at least, not until I have other things that can make me happy, then I can share them with someone. Enough for today, I'm sot sure what I'm saying. Goodnight.

The Journey Back

I just went through the process of requesting to get my account information. I'd actually forgotten which email I'd used for this blog. I thought I'd actually follow through with this one. But surprise surprise.. I didn't. I keep doing that, creating new accounts and not using them for more than thirty seconds. I have swine flu, and my t.v smiled at me. so forgive me if this is a short post. Atleast I went through the trouble of remembering I had a blog.

NO IDEA

"They Tried to Take My Pride, But They Only Took My Father From Me"

Pain and love are overrated. Death and pride however, seem to be too strong for us weak beings to adress in a proper manner.

"Self actualization" - In theory, self actualization comes next right after all other needs.

i say screw that :)

The E man is in the house. Over and out.

That title makes me sound like I'm in a good mood. But I don't know I really am not. not even close. I just turned on the spell checker... I seriously need some help in that area. I have nothing to say here for some reason. I'm not sure if I should talk about what's bothering me over here.. because Nada might one day decide to actually read this. lol or maybe she wont. the latter makes more sense actually.



"Oh i can see now.. that all of these clouds.. are following me on my desperate endeavor to find my who ever.. who ever she may be" - All time low (remembering Sunday)



I love that song. its like the writer lives in my brain. Not that I'm in a similar situation or anything.. but it's like they've been in my brain and know how disoriented my thoughts can be. And the vocalist sounds perfect singing live. He's younger than i thought though. or maybe when I saw him his voice just sounded younger all of a sudden. And they even covered Rihanna's Umbrella. which kind of reminds me of the time when Nada actually thought I did things that mattered. I was telling her about this ting i wrote.. for the first time in a year and a half.. and she didn't even ask to read it. actually all she said was "la 7awla allah ya rabbi..hehe" and i guess that was referring to the fact that I said that i have no idea what it means.. and when i told her what it was about in details she said "oookay.." the "you're weired" oookay. which again i guess was referring to the fact that i said that I didn't know what the thing i wrote meant. And that oookay thing seems to be her reply to anything i say. and it's kind of weird. because she seemed so angry at me for not being around.. mentally around i mean.. and then it's like she has no interest in anything i have to say. and she seemed interested in listening that one time i exploded about my cousin getting accepted into mass com Cairo university. but then i tried talking to her about my mom and how horrible shes being to me these days.. and she made a "cute" joke about how my bed time lead to my mom saying she wants to kill her self. and I felt like that was a sign to just change the subject. I'm scared. Because I'm trying to claw my way back out of my own head.. but its like she has no idea that some tiny little things she does make me feel like shes hosing me down or into my head again... I guess she doesnt mean any of it. but still.. still.



"we'll never leave this room... Hu Hu Hu HUSH" - Juliet Simms (Hush)

I'm scared.