I am not a bird, or a fly buzzing irritably around, killing the soft music of silence. I do not shift or migrate, I am solid, I am the black dot inside the white see of silence, I am there, I move, yes I do that, but I do not migrate, I prove myself in the black dot, my kingdom, I am and will always be courageous enough, not to escape but I face whatever it takes, if it takes my blood, I paint the dot with red passion, if takes skin, then I am made of a leopard skin, I am an animal, do not arouse my instinct, let me be in that dot, yes in that dot, I change in that dot, I connect in that dot, I make it happen in that dot, the dot dot dot, I do not migrate, no more, I stay where it aches and it is sweet, because that dot, that black dot is home.
I do not wana blog, i dont wana rant, vent, I do not want to write, scribble, I do not want to speak, I do not want to hear, i dont wana shout, i dont wana sit, walk, run, i dont want to laugh, sleep, die, i dont want to be, but i DO want to do. I want to do. Do and achieve.
اگاثا هاي، خوش مره، تعرف شلون تلخص حچي بطريقه دراميه ، ذو صدى شگاگي، ايعيط متل عياط البعير، لا منصدوك ،اذا احچايتهه طب عليها صاروخ العباس، و تفجيرات و تفخيخات و مصايب سوده، شلون الشخصيه هاي مالت الانسان الفرد اتصير قدره.......لو هاي دا تحچي على الناس اللي يفكرون، تفكير عبقري مثل حضرته.....
الحب نتيجه عن.....انعجاب شخص بشخص اخر، وممكن لهذا الانعجاب يتطور لحب......او هل ممكن للحب ان يتكون نتيجة رغبه و نزوه جسديه محرقه....هل الحب منهمر من شلال احنه مكوني في سراب احلامنا....هل الحب حقيقه، او حقيقه جزئيه نقدر ان نكملها بكليه مطلقه اذا فتحنا ابواب قلوبنا على مصراعيها....هل الحب تنور ذهني، فلسفه معينه، تعبر عن سحر عيون الساحر البارع الذي اخذ عقلي، و جعلني مني بنت تافه بدون عقل....هل الحب غذاء نفسي، ننشفه من قطرات ندى انفاس الناس الذي نحبهم......... كيف يحصل الحب، لما البكتيريا تتكاثر اسرع و لما سهام الحب تتعثر اكثر، لما كثرة الحروب، و لما قلة الرومانسيات ، على الاقل في عالمي، اليابس ، اليائس، الممل...... لما لاد فأ حنان امي، و ابي و اخواتي لا يكفي عقلي، روحي، نفسي، شعري، بصري، رؤيتي، لما هذه الرغبه في حصول على هذا الحب الخيالي، لما خيالي يخيبني بصنع لوحات خياليه لا احد يقدر ان ينالها سوى الخيال نفسه، يعني الخيال ينتمي للخيال....و الحقيقه لها بيتها..
انا آمنت بان نصنع من الحقيقه خيال ، و ننسج من روح الخيال وجدانيه حقيقيه جذابه، لمساتها حنونه متواضعه، و قبلاتها منهمره من شلال خيالي فاسق، الهامي، جنسي، محموق على ان نصنع من الحقيقه خيال..... يلا وين هذا الحلو حتى احوكه و اسوي چاكيت حلو على كدي! :D
Today after work, I went to see Y, the supervisor I had for my volunteering job, she wanted me to help D, an English teacher at the center teaching English for the new comers. His students have varying levels of competence in the English language, and he could not review each lesson for each group, so I took group number two. But I knew that one of the two students, was an Iraqi lady, in her early fifties, it is funny and surreal, how her Iraqi accent stood before my eyes as if it is a real chunk of land from AyiraK, ok ok, the “sikisteen” was definitely an Arab genre type of accent, but damn, did not I just die when she said “chibis”, while explaining her trip to food basic, upon D’s request at the start of the lesson how each student should explain of what he/she did during the week. And oh, “ChilidRReen” !! :D
So, I ended up reviewing the numbers for them, and we did review some old vocabs, when we stumbled about the word “alone”, I asked if they know this word, she gave me some look, she said “I alone, live in mayi apaRRtmaint”, that’s how she recognized the meaning of the word, she looked sad for a bit, I asked the where abouts of her family, she told me that her “chilidreen” are in Jordan, Amman. She is an old woman, in a country she is new to, but then I could not stop, I asked how she came here and some other related questions, she felt a bit uncomfortable, and I just continued with the reviewing.
But then, I decided to go home when it was break time, I could not stay that long, I had to go home, I was tired and bored, and when I told her, that I will be going home, she almost jumped from her seat, wishing me to stay even more, wasn’t she ever so happy to discover another Iraqi soul such as herself. I proceeded with no thinking, and ever so spontaneously, I wrote my number on the tissue paper that I used previously to draw the meaning of the vocab, boat :D , and so I gave it to her. She is alone after all, she looked at me with happiness, but what so strange, she asked “ya3ni ani agdar akhbrich 3ala hatha il ra8um, ya3ni a7aslich?” (“I can call you on that number, can I get you on that number?”), deep down inside, I was “Duh, that’s why I gave it to you”, I left the classroom, seeing her big, wide smile following me until the exit. I was apathetic to the volunteering thingi, but she made me feel something!
This is the second internship I can not apply to because I can not read/write/speak French, and it was tailored to the skills I have as an IR graduate, not fair, and it is in Sydney Australia, my heart is broken, but my mind is alert thinking of learning this damn language.
Before the natural inevitable mistake of procreation, and therefore, before inventing the need and the necessity to plant the crops to feed horny, stupid peoples’ babies, and that is inventing agriculture, human beings used to work only, ONLY two days a week, now, it is the opposite, simply because we have to. Ooof!
And after me delving into my freedoms, and after I have entertained my ears with melodies and rhythms of one of my favorite songs since high school, it goes like “we don’t need no education, trahhh, we don’t need to self control, trahhhh, got sarcasm in the classroom trah, hey teacher leave them kids alone, tan tan tan…” ah, it keeps my now-dull, grown up spirit alive, it keeps me motivated, but honestly, how did I get to university, if I have always unconsciously felt that way, which just now, I have discovered that I do not like to work, and I despise responsibilities, and I careless for details, although I love to be stimulated to know the knowledge of how this universe is made, and I love to make art expression of how I perceive the beauty and the ugliness of this world I live in. I feel that, I …am a mere reflection of artistic stimulation my body, heart, soul feel, I draw the chains I see through politics that suffocate…me , whether it is political economy, socially political, or merely sexually political, I write, what I feel, and kiss the paper for the words I miss to hear where nuclear talk is what overwhelming the sphere, --that just rhymed yes—I just I do not hear love, What motivated me, to do my degree, International relations, is not my love to politics, but my love to my country, through this love, I became an idealist, even though the love is still there, my apathetic attitude is certainly making me feel apathetic about everything political, I just want to go on about my love, and live happily after, in the matter of fact, I lack ambitions, all I want to do, is to be relaxed, have fun time, read books, learn, I am currently trying to teach myself piano, I want to enjoy Arts, I discovered I have done a major mistake that I chose this field of study, even though I enjoyed it, enjoyed it a lot, it was like munching yummy chocolate after each class I attended, politics for me was like dark chocolate…but even though I enjoyed it, I felt that I was left unchallenged, a lot of people leave IR because they can’t handle the economics, and I managed to get my act all together with the economics, in the matter of fact, I loved analyzing and evaluating economic and market policies, I love stock exchange and all the bullshit behind the speculation acts and what not, I do love this dry side of politics, I do love to study political economy, and even political philosophy, it makes me feel alive, but , I can not imagine myself working with such knowledge in the real world, I discovered I like the thought process, of philosophy, politics, and economics, and if I ever liked to express anything in any real value as in real salary, career and all the ugly stuff, I would never like to imagine myself in a formal suit, or be in real positions working with MPs, I feel dry, I feel so un me, I just do not like it, but I would rather to express my social sciency knowledge or curiosity in a rather artistic forms, but certainly I can not play any musical instrument and certainly I do not have the consistency and REAL ambition to sit down and write a real play and a movie script as I want to. I gota face the truth, I am a real bum in the inside, or probably what I am looking for, is not career oriented yet, I do not want to be in yet, I want to have friends, real friends, I want to travel, I want to make human contacts, I am so sick and tired, of doing what I have to do just because it sounds like the next step to do, honestly, I feel like belonging to some kind of island, clan, tribe, full of hippies, free thinkers, in touch with themselves kind of people, I totally reject the way life is run in this world, the total dependency on materialistic gains, to pay the bills, the mortgage, the routine, I do not want to know people who shop because they have nothing to do, or to expect some shopping healing therapy. I want to be in a world, where real people exist, the self-development I seek, is rather communal and not so individualistic, I can not take it anymore, I thought I became exogenous from the “community” or my need for people, especially if I have real cool sisters, but the dream of that hippi people’s island is still in my head, and it is not going away. I am still abstract, how the hell, an abstract person such as me, can survive in this world, where positions are held by people who are outgoing, big mouth and talkative, pay attention to boring details, and egoism driven.
What should I be?
I do not know, time only can tell.
But honestly, I have not opened my “piano for dummies” for the last two days.
The Iraqi community seems rather ecstatic, my friends’ msn title all pertain joyous messages over Saddam’s death verdict, Iraqi online forums are all hyped up with happiness, and most of Iraqis are keeping busy congratulating each other over this very “happy” moment. As for me, I feel nothing, and I do not think that I am living a glorious moment, and I am no where close enough to be a Ba’thi sympathizer, I do not like to throw personal experiences that my family lived and went through in the air for the sake of creating a self-victimized anecdote, but I have to say it, yes, my father was imprisoned and he was on the verge of losing his life, because of a simple crime that he cursed Saddam Hussien publicly, he instantly got reported by Saddam's secret intelligence, and jailed, its funny we did not know where he disappeared for a while. No Iraqi needs to be affiliated in any political opposition to Saddam to feel Saddam’s reign of oppression, because he with quite of a magic touch, influenced and affected every Iraqi soul you can think of, the very fact that I am Canadian now, is because of Saddam Hussien, and the so many dreams I have dreamt ever since I was a child in relation to my country, like going how I wanted to go to a university in Baghdad, never took place because of Saddam, and not only those pink like child dreams, but real messy, hard life that I had to endure like changing my high school six times, I had to leave friends behind and re-make new friends again, the very fragile life my family lived before we became Canadian, from Visa issues, not knowing to what country we should go to, since our Iraqi passport and nationality did not give us that many of options, and again, thanx to Sadam Hussien, the “savior” of the Iraqi nation, and thanx again for messing and screwing up Iraq big time, one of the richest countries in the world, we Iraqis kept a stright line in queues to get our food rations, and the piece of chicken as a Makrama during Ramadan, and thanx Sadam Hussien for creating his envisaged, dreary Iraqi nation, which only gave birth to collaborators whom they brought foreign rule, and occupying our country until this moment.
But I wonder, with all the pain my family had to go through, just to get away from Saddam’s Iraq, why I find myself not so joyous over his death sentence.
I mean, Saddam Hussien is and still is, the way I curse life or whatever when I feel mad, I use the infamous life “kharab Saddam”, a lot of Iraqis use it, its cool and comes quite handy, since it is so expressive of how we feel!
But why, I do not feel joyous over this sentence.
The big, big reason, Saddam’s overthrow and deposition into the trash bin, did not become a reality through Iraqis earnest hard work, and what I mean by Iraqi, I mean real Iraqis, who lived in Iraq and endured what Iraqis went through, and not because of some dogmatic force, that will later be used as propaganda to divide the masses.
Saddam’s sentence, is America’s hard work, it is the plan that America envisaged, especially that elections are coming and they do need some sensational Hollywood moves in here, eh! So let them flex their muscle, and show what they’ve got really happening in Iraq, covering their death tolls with something even more emotionally trendy.
Saddam’s sentence is politically right, it suits power politics, hence the powerful rules, but it is not in according to fairness. I have Milosovic, I wonder, is he still having his juice in his prison, why isn’t he sentenced to be hanged as well, wasn’t he responsible for heinous war crimes, notoriously famous for ethnic cleansing?!
And what happens to other dictators, why indict Saddam and not Mugabe, why is there still so many other dictators roaming around freely with no International rule restriction over their foul, criminal misbehaviors.
There are so many ruthless figures have gotten their ways, for example, Henry Kissinger, whose responsible for the death of a large number of south East Asians, also, he got some misbehavior in Latin America. How about George Bush, dashing in to a country with no legal claim, barging into a country with no responsibility to maintain law and order, but only to perpetuate lawlesness, the Abu Ghraib scandal, I would like to see a real trial over what happened over there, and to verify whether there was instruction from top to bottom to normalize torturous means into the investigation query.
And not only foreign bullies, how about other Iraqis responsible for killing other Iraqis, I know Saddam was a hyena, I know the Iranian-Iraqi war served no purpose, but how about other collaborators responsible for killing other Iraqis, the ones who collaborated with Iran against Iraqis, killing Iraqi soldiers during the war. It is wrong and very wrong to think that Saddam is the only one, there are the others.
Trial should include for all the ones who have killed an innocent Iraqi live, and responsible in destroying our homeland.
I would have applauded this trial process, later the verdict, whether death penalty or not, if it would have been a solely Iraqi process, coming from the ethos of the Iraqi people and nothing else, I would have applauded this verdict if it was not tailored to suit the interests of foreign occupying forces in my country, and I would have applauded this verdict, if Iraqi people were smart enough to be a unified force, and one voice, and not clashing over a death sentence that has nothing to do with them and quite exogenous to their very wants and desires!
For me now, spirituality is praying for goodness and goodness alone, it washes away waste, dust, mud, and all the plethora of germs and useless worldly pleasures, spiritually is creating the principled ethics that I make my decisions from, it trims away the unnecessary baggage that freedom can bring upon me, this total freedom which gave me the ability to o discover so many things, but it could have been pricey. Without conscious, and an awakened heart, one will go lost at the bottom of worldly pleasures, and the more one gets of this pleasure, the more empty it he/she would feel, and the more hardened the heart it would feel, while the soul, it would complain that it can not go any further, it is still stationed, idle, doing nothing, has no air, nothing in, there is no food, gas, and real stimulation to run its engine. I have always wondered, why Churches, Mosques, Synagogues, and Temples, why Imams, Clerks, Popes, Shamans? Why religion, why believe? And why spirituality?
Religions and their existences as the lady that gave birth to spirituality, but not! The human ardent search for the endless questions of existence, and the urgent human need to fill the void inside, and not to get lost in so many seemingly amicable human emotions, which spirituality can by itself end all the misery of going down to the bottom. Spirituality is the only one responsible for discovering higher ideals, from these higher ideals; we get morality, and then the human’s first honest effort to write down these discoveries in books hence religions, but then again, human can pervert, pervert all, therefore books are not reliable in my books, and I need to question even more. This spirituality realizes a higher being, it is discovered, before I called it my watch angels, and they can be the opposite for the purposes of enlightenment, ie. You do a bad dead, something bad in return will happen to you, although not the case all the time. History, also teaches us that we humans have always searched for the creator and the progress of this discovery became into monotheist belief, it is rather funny how humans made statues symbolizing or believing that it is, it, god or the goddess. Going monotheist, is the ultimate result of finding the creator, and it is also, the ultimate power of human strength to communicate with god or the natural spirit of this universe.
I was an agnostic, I did not believe in any absolute truth, and I could not also, omit god’s existence, but I named god, a natural power that with all my human senses I can not explain. But now, I just made a simple substitution, unknowingness became believing in 3ilm il ghayb, and now, I believe in some sort of karma, and other godly way of communication to us, to enlighten us. I dunno, I believe right now, in the spiritual discoveries of religions, I believe in some of the moral commandments (golden rule) they have discovered through spirituality, yet they are changeable as we all still in a spiritual progress. I definitely have problems with the conventional idea of Hell and Heaven, as I believe that doing good in order to go to heave is the downfall of morality itself, I believe in discovering goodness and to be closer to god.
I still have more questions, I have read some few soras from the Quran, I did find what I needed in some parts, whilst, some others, I did not need, want or believe. I enjoy reading, surat al fati7a, and it means a lot to me, also, sorat al fala8 and nas, however, I still have problems with more sorats. I am also, intending to read other religions; I need to know more about Christianity, and Buddhism. I would say that, I can be as spiritual as I want to be, in any religion or believe I feel like, I dunno, if that makes be a bahai, I really don’t know and I don’t care if my believes don’t subscribe to whatever mainstream religion. But in the time being, I try my best to be good, I say hamdulah, astaghfurulah, and la7awola wala 8uwat ila bilah, and I feel the sakeena (peace).
في ظلمات الأزقة الرأسماليه،هناك أبناء لم ترة أبائها و أمهاتها لمده طويلة، طويلة، ترهق القلب ولعا، لكنهم، مشغولهن، كلهم، مشغولون.......في ظلمات الشهوى الرأسمالية الفرديه، تغوص النفس البشريه في عمق الفراغ الأبدي، لا روح لديها، مجرد سيارة ماديه، هائمه في شوارع الشهوات و النزوات، تأمل في الإمتلاء ، نعم إمتلاء المعدة، و العين، و النزوات المؤقتة، الزائفه، فهناك الغلام اليتيم، يبكي على أبه، و هناك ما لما يسأل عليه أحد....في ظلمات الرأسماليه، هناك أنحطاط، إجتماعي، جرثوم يفكك النسيج العائلي......لم أكن أرى الشي الجيد في وجودية ربي، إلا عندما سأمت من فراغ روحي، و كيف هناك حب بين ناس، و إذا بالروح جوفاء، كيف أقبل الخير لأجل الخير، إذا إندفاعي مادي، أه....سبيل الروح في الروحانيه، تحسس الروحانيه، غذاء نفسي، لكي لا أضيع نفسي، و حب الله، حب الله، حب الله، أستغفر الله......و حدانية ربي، أجدها في خيراتي ربي من تعاليمه، و كم كنت أجادل مع أمي، و ما شأن قوانين ربي في عقلي، كنت بغروري أثق أن خططي العقلية ليس لها من مثيل، فأنا مدبرة قوانيني الشخصية، فإذا بفراغ صدري، و في ضيعاني، كنت أعتقد أنه أكتشاف نفسي، وجدت تدابير الله، أستغفر الله، أستغفر الله..... ما هي قوانين ربي، إلا بأصدارات روحانية، لا يعلمها الله إلا إلينا.نعم إلينا....أستغفر الله......أستغفر الله، و أتوب إلليه.......
I read the latest entries of Miraj in her blog Baghdad Chronicles http://blog.aliraqi.org/, what a sad story, I swear, I felt really sad when I read it, I can not imagine myself in the place of um Hasan, wala, it is really sad, so I wrote this poem to express my anger and sadness, and my great contempt against this ugly war brought upon the lives of innoncent Iraqi civilians, may god and the good forces of nature be with them.
wala galbi inshila3 shal3eh,
Here is it,
Titled: Price of War
Longing, Where infinity cannot reach. Chocking, The innocents’ hearts with war and its sordid mischief. Distancing, Between the bullets, her kisses cannot reach. Aching, The wound of her love to him, she digs her fear, away away, in the black box of silence, (solemn ) ….. melancholy and sadness are here. Spilling, Avalanche of love she feels, to him, no where, he is found, Kidnapped, missing, taken, away… away! But, he still lives in the sight of her eyes, her stomach, womb, flesh, and through her tears; her ears, hear his echo from a distance, Imagining him, his touch, his kisses… She cries in her labor, in his name, “Oh dear, oh dear, my love, your baby son, Hasan is here!”
African-American, African-Canadian, African-European – witty, confident, courageous, and honest with one’s feelings. The best when it comes to approaching women. Type: hot chocolates, good to slurp to heat the body in winter. Husband Material: 5/10
Canadian – they pass as polite boys but the truth is, they can’t ask a girl out, nor have any confidence to do so, only if they are intoxicated with booze, bars are mostly the place for them to meet potential mates, their greatest difficulty is to figure out what women want. The advantage is, women learn how to be the pants, but they will always bitch of how horrible men are. Type: cold vanilla to add some cream to sour nights, nothing less or more. Husband Material: 5/10 Observation: watch out for the shy guys, they make great husbands if you can compromise with your ambitions.
Americans – edgy, witty, foxy, sexy and funny. They are never afraid to strike any joke, they are great when it comes to break the ice, and they know how to seduce women, they are just fun, however they make bad politicians. Type: hot. Husband Material: 5/10 Observation: watch out for the cultured and humbled ones, they are great.
Arabs – All about extremism. Either the religious guy or the sayi3 pimping everywhere.
Arabs – Iraqis – He is either the shy, traditional guy that can not ask a girl out, probably he will ask his mom to pick his wife, or the super duper opposite, loose and just loose, with some double standards. And reactionary. Type: alrighty.. Husband Material: 7/10 Watch out for the guys in the middle of the spectrum, educated, enlightened and handsome, they make great husbands.
Arab – Lubanese – Extremism is found, only there are more guys in the middle of the spectrum as in comparison of the above. Type: They can have romantic features, over plucking eyebrows sometimes is not attractive for guys, and too dressy, which can be a turnoff, Husband Material:7/10
Arab – Egyptian – Extremism is found, fewer guys in the middle compared to the above, they rather come in extreme packages, people with wahabi li7ya walking down the University campus or pimping, good advantage, their romantic character come in extreme, and there you go, you have your 3abd il 7aleem, enjoy! Type: alirghty. Husband Material:7/10
Arab- Syrians – Extremism is found; almost same as above, more balanced guys are found. They are very polite, and can acquire nice flirtation tactics, but can be very boring. More traditional, and laid back. Type: alrighty. Husband Material: 7/10
Arab-Palestinians – Extremism is found, and vivid. They are great when it comes to approaching women; they have the character to please females. They are manly, and never shy to say what they want, great when it comes to flirting, although can be sexist. Type: Hot. The hottest among Arab guys, although there are sleaze balls out there, better watch out. Husband Material:6/10
Indians – Their charm come from their sensuality, although they can be totally horrible if they don’t like the girl. They know how to have great fun and they totally dig Arab chicks, they are more liberal, and hip. Type: Alrighty. Husband Material:6/10
Polish – Shy guys that pretend to have it all. Traditional and can be very boring. Type: Mostly plain and boring, but their nice looking blondies must be spoken of. Husband Material: 7/10
Now, I don’t have any other group of men to generalize, too bad!
People that want to do something inspire, the ones that stay idle, stay as it is.
With my very short, blogging experience, distances between me and some other Iraqi bloggers from outside Iraq just like me are shortened, I have discovered that there are Iraqi individuals who want to do something to uplift Iraq in any practical means possible and attainable to them. One notable Iraqi American activist Nayj - http://hagardiaries.blogspot.com/ , thought that we should brains storm and think of what we can do to help Iraq. Little Penguin from http://iraqi-signor.blogspot.com/ commented once in my blog, exclaiming … “How am I meant to contemplate my existence or meditate whilst tens of Iraqis are being killed everyday? It's impossible,” even though he sounded very emotionally outraged and exaggerative at least to me, his patriotism is distinguished After my realization about some Iraqi bloggers, I chit chatted with an Iraqi online friend of mine from New Zealand, I have known him for the past six years, he told me, that he and some of his friends will be starting a group using the advantage of Media to spread their views of Iraqi unity and patriotism, and he asked me to be the Canadian representative, which I of course accepted.
The point is, there are many Iraqis that want to do something, and we just need collective efforts, and the will. But it should not be sudden, or abruptly, it should be gradually, I believe there should be social activism at first, which can definitely lead to be a political one. We need to bridge the distances between Iraq’s different political views; we should hinder and halt any propaganda and their effects in making perceptions of the other, the other “group.”
Iraqis outside Iraq can contribute to great activism than the ones inside, in the matter of fact; we can help the activism inside Iraq. Iraqis inside Iraq do not have as much as mobility as we do abroad. I remember watching a documentary in Aljazeera about Egyptian bloggers, and it was great to watch, and it was amazing of how much power a blogger can have, not only a blogger can show human rights abuse through the snap shots he took from his camera to broadcast it online, but also, they can also assemble protests, and make their voice heard! I thought to myself, how come educated, patriotic Iraqi youth are not doing that as well, the answer is simple; we just have more bombs dropped in Iraq than in Egypt. The question then is, how can activism thrive in such an insecure environment, not only intellectuals are murdered but the educated are leaving en masse and they can’t wait to leave! How can we Iraqis formulate some sort of activist civil society? I am looking for answers. Any creative thoughts?
But I must admit, I though of activism ever since I started blogging, but the thought died away, probably that my realization that there are quite a good number of Iraqis that want to do something, was not there, since I have not discovered that “many” that want to do something.
And now, I just want to attach something really old, an email I wrote to some friends, I wrote it when my uncle was given the ultimatum to leave Basra because of his sect. I Thought of doing something, and I could not do, now, my uncle he can’t go back, and is applying for his immigration to Canada, of course with the financial help of my mom and my other uncle, but how about the very poor!
Here it is: First of all, excuse me if I come across that I know it or too naively ambitious due to limitations, which I know off.
The Iraqi people should know who is doing them good and who is not. Therefore, reporting human rights abuses is our first step, we should publicize our findings to enlighten the population because it is in my opinion for the interest of the Iraqi nation, Iraqis should learn and know how much it is important to stick with each other. An Iraqi fighting another Iraqi is just ill and horrible, and it is even more morbid once one realizes that the forces behind it are either foreigner or Iraqi powers that cares only about its certain group, and I am talking about everybody in here.
Apart from reporting human rights abuses whom we should work in coordination from trustworthy sources inside Iraq whom both Arabic and non-Arabic media are chicken scared to report, we should also, work on the social level, by educating Iraqis on many misconceptions that have been fed to them by powerful elites whom I think care only about exerting their power. I believe that Iraqis whether outside or inside, see only their clouded thoughts, and these clouds are their sense of victimization that their sect probably only the one that has been victimized, with us educating them, and reporting human rights abuses, people will see the Big picture and not be only overwhelmed by their own life examples whom they very well can attest that they are being hurt because they were Christians, Sunnis, Shia’s or Mandeans for example.
I totally believe that the Iraqi people are ready to work on having a great, stable life, it is just they do not know how to work together on this, therefore we should help to accentuate the culture of ta3awin, or helping each other regardless of background or any other regional differences. In Iraq or the greater Middle East, we do not have the culture of voluntary work, everyone seems to be stuck in their own lives, I believe in promoting such culture, and every individual should feel that they can help, a lot of people feel helpless or un-ambitious on what their abilities can do, even in the west they are people like that.
Iraqis should discover other Iraqis; they should discover that we all want to live a great life in our country and that we all want a country that we feel proud of belonging to it.
I am well aware of our limitations, but step after step we will have more succinct plant on how to get to our goals, the west did not reach to the way it is, it only reached its height when people knew what was the right thing to do, Iraqis should get their rights and fight for their rights, or else we will be puppets directed by our bosses of Iran and the USA.
That is at least theoretically, practically I do not know how to grow, but I know our first step is for instance forming this network.
There is nothing I appreciate from ticking clocks and time progression, only that of maturity. Yes, I find maturity and being matured is one of life’s valuable assets. It clarifies the mind, it gives a lot of understanding of one’s self, therefore one can make the right decision without harming one’s self or others. It is purely peaceful tranquility, it is just majestically the calm blue sea, it is love at its ease, and I wish everyone inner peace. The thing is, human beings are so complex regardless of how simple and naïve a person maybe perceived or how he/she perceives their selves. We are made of so many interlaying, entangling emotional feelings, and our responses and reactions to them can be really vague, incomprehensible and obscure at times, and then the stupid - confusion – takes over. I hate it when I am confused. It is like the rage of the sea monsters, and you wonder from where did these fictional monsters arise from, how and why? And it takes a lot of courage, and inner strength to clarify the self, to know the self. And one should be independent from the mainstream genre, one should really see one’s self through the perspective of one’s self, I am not trying to be too individualistic, we are social beings afterall, but at times, too much dictation from what the socialization process to be ‘normal’ or the pressure to be along the lines of being ‘normal’, can hinder one’s ability to understand one’s self. Not what works for everyone, but it works for they self, a lot of people may say “Duh”, but not a lot of people realize that, and not a lot of people realize of the courage of drawing their own conclusions that are suitable to their own well being, and the empowerment they can can feel if they do so. Understanding one’s self and knowing the principles that one can find through observation, contemplation and meditation, therefore maturity is one powerful feeling and that reaching the ‘being’, and that reaching ‘inner strength’.
I dump my fears in the black hole, in the universe I swim and dive where time as a creation does not count, only celebration and truth I count, creation is me, I wear the stellar shine as my gold, the sun’s jerking fire are my strands of hair, I swim and swim in the universe, fearless, as my fears are in the black hole, I am free, free to what I want, my strength is not the coldness of the moon, but down to earth, I am, my heart is warm.
Yesterday, one of my best friends was back from Libya, it was one year and I did not see her, I was preparing the kubeh with my mom, since they are also, family friends, we were making, the usual, the feast to welcome them.
While I was making the kubeh,- butaiteh chab, I did not feel the will or the power to see her again, I felt, she is gone, why see her again, I was apathetic, I cared less to see her.
Me and mom, we prepared the food, cleaned, and tied up our place, I was still feeling lethargic at heart, I cussed and fussed about the Arabic/Iraqi culture of how we make a big deal when someone comes to our place, I also, pitied myself for being so insensitive and ugly in the inside.
When it was time, the bell rung, I saw my friend, she gave me a long, warm hug, I wanted to feel something, and I could not.
I was inhuman. I hated myself, I mean sometimes feelings are the only thing that we have in this world and in richness, but I had them in poor.
But once we started talking, I figured out, why I liked her, I love my friend, the warmth we feel with each other, the feeling of home we feel with each other, I felt she was so relieved being here, with me and with my sister and mother and everything.
And I am so proud of her; she is done with her first year in medicine. My friend I wish you all the best, and I love you, and I am saying this, not because she will be reading this, but I feel like saying it. Having to go through these bizarre feelings of emotional instability with my friend, my mom is leaving to North Carolina tomorrow, and I think I will break into tears (I never cry when people leave), I mean, she had two jobs before where she lived away from us, but now, I do not think I can take it any longer, damn, I love my mom and I want her home, the whole place had a new feel when she came, even though she was nagging as usual, but ……………….I will try to be stronger, one perquisite to survive in this world. But I must admit, I am getting too tired.
I wrote this today:
الناس رايحه و راجعه و الگلب مفطور.
ساكنة حب الهوى و الهوى مفقود.
روحت حبايبي و سفرهم، مثل نسمة الهوى بالعلالي..إتشيلني، و تعوفني بلاية هوى...ما موجود..
رجعة و روحه...بالطيارة لو بالريل.. فوك و جوه.... الگلب مهزوز...مهزوز..
There seems to be a new “modeh” to attach the nationality Iraqi with more detailed sectarianism, living abroad, this new “modeh” I have witnessed is mostly and if not always coming from non-Iraqis. There is the type that wants to appear all knowing, probably as news paper-intellectuals, and there is this type whom they think that they are the top-notch political analysts, visualizing Iraqi politics in a very discreet, absolutist either white or black type of analysis, leaving so many intricate, details in the trash bin. The supposed, ever so existent Sunni and Shi’a schism is not the only analytical tool of Iraqi politics, I do not hear much about the tainted secularism, or anything about class issues in Iraq, after all, we are one hell of a “6aba8i” society. Not so long go, women in Iraq used to wear mini skirts in their universities’ campuses, Iraq had the first female judge in the whole, wide Arab world and Middle East, and ages ago, Sunnis and Shi’as from the same social class had more in common with each other, than with their counterparts from the lower social strata.
Why is there a lot of ignorance about class struggles in Iraq, isn’t one of the reasons of why communism found quite of a receptive audience in Iraq?Iraqis started hearing stories of a female Engineer marrying a trucker, this did not happen before. Wasn’t there also, Shi’a political parties attracting Sunni’s political activists, so both and together to combat the wide spreading secularism in Iraq. The later, might not be so much of a use for political analysis today, but the history of this type of the Iraqi political scene makers were not absolute in complexion, even with the proposed variables I am offering for more detailed Iraqi political analysis, I am, also, being discreet.
Why can’t people admit, Iraq has always been a volatile, crazy place, it was never defined in absolutism, or else, you will have error inscription all over, and isn’t that what is happening! So, why do I hear in the media of this absolutist, blunt analysis of Iraqi politics and society, so deterministic into made-up blocks, Sunni’s and Shi’as.
For all those foreigners, you think you know me if you knew I was Sunni’s or Shi’a, and likewise, for all those stupid, Iraqi politicians, they think they know me and who I support because of my background, did not Iraq witness brothers and sisters, part of them atheists, part Sunni’s and part Shi’as, aren’t there tribes in Iraq, that are partly Shi’a and partly Sunnis, how about Baghdad, how stupid of them trying to divide a city that is so “mixed” in every orientation possible; funny I use “mix”, I am sorry, but I do not accept such a silly term, I just need it to get in your head, you fool. I never knew what my parents were, Sunni’s or Shi’as, only when I came to Canada, call me stupid, ignorant, whatever, I careless, but I sincerely did not know what kind of sect my parents belonged to, and I also, talked to couple of Iraq-Canadians, and they found the same thing, they did not know what kind of sect they belonged to. In Iraq, I do not remember people asking others if they were Sunni’s or Shi’as, it was “3aib” and nashaz, y3ani shameful and odd. And even when I try to remember my childhood friends, I have difficulty figuring out who is Shi’a or Sunni, we simply do not know, probably we were little kids, but this kind of culture and identity politics, even if it existed in realms I did not experience before, is exacerbating, I mean we have political parties according to one’s religious sects, call me a self-imposing secularist, but that does not make sense, at least to me. I mean Iraq need political parties that offer economic solutions, some sustainable development plans, something to progress social well-fare of the Iraqi people, something to combat SECTERIANISM and not to promote it, probably end those stupid militias, are those stupid politicians thing they can do something about the militias, in a country where its politics all run by identity politics, each group feel frightened, security is needed to all Iraqis. In the end, the very plebian masses of the Iraqi society are the ones who are paying the price, not the elitists, and the very weakness of these masses is that they listen to these elitists, Iraqis should be given books, or at least history books, so they can know they their grandparents long time ago, had a civilization to offer to the world and not disgusting ignorance. (I actually voice my concern to give books to the entire middle east/Arab world). If only people felt the love to their country, and I must admit, I am just writing in here, and I will be eating my mom’s home made ba8lawa. Damn, i live in luxury! I am thankful.
The heart is a flower, Wilting, Dying, It needs you. In the darkness, It feeds from its sadness, The beacon, is you, My hope, My Iraq, It is you, Wilting because of you, It needs you my Iraq, Water thee, from your Euphrates, Your Tigress. Let me regain what I have lost, Your love, my home. Oh, I do not dither, The heart, the mind, Uniting, choosing you, My love, you are my motherland, Oh by the names of Inana and Ishtar My heart is Trembling, Estranged, In a strange land, but, no longer feeling estranged of your vicious inside, Your violence and killer bombs, For that I know, it is not you. I am writing poetry, Of a strange link to my essence, My Mesopotamian essence, my true vernacular. Oh, I swear by the name of your palm trees, Not you who brought the scourge and the plague, Not you who brought the rapist, the murders, Not you who raised the devils. My love, Iraq, I want you back, My country.
Men, they are either like a rainy, moon season or not, they never come in time when they are wanted, or come in time when things are not so welcoming of them, they have cyclical mood swings, almost like a rush hour and then it dies. I do not care anyways, I am tired, busy, and workaholic for the time being.
One of the predicaments of changing places a lot is that knowledge whether that of movies, songs, jokes, food, etiquette, and whether tomatoes are fruits or vegetables, differs. Yes, I have been taught through out my agriculture (zira3eh) classes in Iraq that Tomatoes are vegetables and are not fruits, and before, I could not imagine a salad without tomatoes. Last week my coworker, an old lady was chitchatting about her garden, and how she had to deal with the excess amount of tomatoes she planted, luckily she made all the excess tomatoes - salsa, a pretty good option, and especially good for making real good margas. While she was telling me all this, I exclaimed with great admiration for her efforts “wow, it is really good that you plant your own vegetables” She glimpsed at me, for a second, she gave me a stupid look, and yes, thanx for my memory, I recalled that in here, in Canada, tomatoes are actual FRUITS. Oh wow, I just gave the impression that I was actually stupid, I could have rephrased my sentence and said “wow, it is really good that you plant your own tomatoes”, but oh well, that is the price I am paying for living in different countries, and I have always loved my agricultural class back home, the teacher name was Najla, we used to nick name her, Fijla, and no we did not grow any fijil in that class, and sorry, I do not know what is the name for fijil in English, oh I just miss the Iraqi fijil, it used to be hot, yam yam!
She seemed not caring to correct me, she wanted to talk about whatever to pass time, then our next conversation, after some customers of ours cleared out, was about schools somehow, and apparently I leaked some personal information, that I went to six high schools.
She was “oh, busy shopping for schools, I hate kids when they do that”
It hurts, really hurts, I mean, it hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts. Since, when I had the stupid choice, my life dictated me changing SCHOOLS, and it was an emotionally draining experience anways!
I replied laughingly, masking my sadness, “No, you know what, I will tell you how that happens” , I gave her a brief review of the countries I lived in, and the real reason why my family changed places a lot.
We bonded, she was a nice lady, but she did think I was a bit misinformed about the tomatoes being vegetables. :D
A lonely autumn leave, Falls, It does not kiss the pavement, Winds blow, Leave dances, Freely, Falls, Free fall, And does not hug the grasses. Winds whistle, Leave flies; flies higher, It does not reach the skies, Leave falls. Stepping, they step over it, With dirt, it ferments. Leave dies, but not the lost hugs, or the kisses, the memory flashes.
hope you guys like it, well, i hope it makes sense for you peeps.
Lately, especially after me regaining my freedom, I have been going to the underground poetry readings that I used to go, these poetry readings used to be good, they used to thriving with talent, one of the regular readers was an English professor at my university, he actually used to read some of his erotic poetry, and the audience were either his own students or other students whom he will eventually dash into one way or another at our uni’s campus, and I was one of them. He has no shame, and I like that, well, he served his role as an Art’s guru that of free expression. But now, oh wow, the recurrent use of the “F” word and other vulgarity, makes me doubt this cult’s ability in articulating their feelings in more refined stanzas and creatively, I am not against the “F” word per se, it is just too much use of the word, hinders one’s ability that of limited usage of words, or imaginative metaphors, a poet can use, instead of the “F+ing”. Now, there are no English profs, much less number of people, few talented people, many people have left, and the poetry standard has gone really bad, the other day, only three people read their poems, and it is just so full of “Fs” Probably my freedom ticked in the wrong direction, and I opened the wrong door, and entered in the wrong time, I want to live the memories, when I had to go back home before twelve, I used to sweat, even though it was icy cold in midst of the Canadian winter, my dad used to give me, one hell of a time, scaling me and calling me a “bitch”, even though I was pure and never thought of anything else, other than caring about my feelings, I wanted people to know the feelings in my poetry that I read for them, I wanted to be in touch with every human soul, not in my cage, isolated between four walls. I remember, during one poetry reading of mine, it was starting at eleven thirty, and I really, really wanted to read one poem of mine, but time was not generous, I told the girl in charge of who is after who, I told her, I need to go first or second, I don’t have time, I read it, and I went back home.
Sad life, my life was. Everything was a struggle. I had to earn my time and my freedom.
Me friends with my dad is something I have to be given as a credit to, being the person I am, was and still a struggle of my own.
Getting in touch with what makes me, took another round in poetry, I remember having my walk with my sister and one of my sister’s good friends, a guy from Algeria, he told me once, that in no way English poetry can be measured with Arabic poetry, he told me that Arabic poetry has way more depth into it. At first time, I did not quite believe him, but somehow, longing for my roots, made me flip pages, and pages of Arabic poetry, with all the protest, politically-edged, non-conformists, slam poetries, and Shakespeare I have read, or heard, nothing, nothing can come to this:
وطني لو شغلت بالخلد عنه
نازعتني إليه في الخلد نفسي!
أبي القاسم الشابي:
إذا الشعب يوما إراد الحياه فلا بد أن يستجيب القدر
و لا بد لليل أن ينجلي ولا بد للقيد أن ينكسر
I feel the depth, and it is giving me goose bumps. Or probably, I should read more English poetry. I dunno. I just dunno.
I went to a Shaworma joint today, I asked politely in Arabic “mumkin Shaworma la7am?” he exclaims “kil ishi?”, I replyed “yeah”, everything is pretty normal, but then oh my god, he put so much meat, yes I understand that I am Arabic as he is too, but not that much meat ya 3amu! But then I cared less, I was hungry, really hungry, I ate and ate, but then I could not finish the sandwich, I somehow felt sick to my stomach, and on the way back home, my stomach was juggling, I think I could not take the “fat” that much, what can I say, thank you 3amu for you are care! Bas khosh admi wala :D
Yes, and I am planning to read all of the Quran, sounds like a good aya, i somehow felt estranged from the Muslim reality, quite contrary to what it says in the Quran.
I have realized something, that the point of having religious texts are not at least to me, to control the masses but religions for me, are like intermittent historical eras of spiritual achievements on a bigger level, giving in mind we never heaard about those tiny individuals who made something, but they are just hidden from history because of the power struggle, one must look at organized religion in a political perspective to understand some, and religions do not reflect what is there, but they are spiritual breakthroughs at different levels. I think, if we stick to what a religion holds true, and follow it without question, tyranny it would produce, I think finding spiritual guideness on an individualistic level is the way to go.But I am keeping an open mind, I will be reading the Quran and see what I can make off it, I just feel that I have a big appetite to learn more about not just Islam but all religions in general. But i know fore sure, the goodness we seek to learn from, is that god that we want to adhere to.
When I was 22, I really wanted to be in a meaningful relationship, and when I reached 23 I really felt that I wanted to get married, but none of that happened. I was the champion of chastity until marriage, although I was living in fire due to sexual frustration, which at many times interrupted my studies, although I am quite proud of my B average, and yes, I would find it hard to squeeze if I want to do masters. Although, I made a promise to myself that if I reach 23 and still did not find anyone, then I might as well, lose my virginity. But a month from now, I will be turning 24, and I did not subdue to my word.
But during that last year, a lot of new feelings have changed inside me, yes I am still the sensitive, virgin I am, I do my calculations in brain rather than emotions and frustrations taking the lead. I am at the moment, a person who despises her virginity. I no longer need it. Enough is enough, I need a clearer mind, especially I want to have a career. I do not want to be occupied about sex and other related issues of me being sad at my withering, and quite emotionally empty youth. I always felt that all those virgin, sensitive, emotional, fiery and about everything of those feelings that I want to carry to that one, my friend, lover, partner and husband. I thought that traveling and leaving many places made me so careless of my sense of belonging, so I wanted that person to be my stable home, I wanted my holidays to be the sunset in his eyes, my fountain to be his lips, and my wild jungle is the hair of his manly chest.. Now, I realized that I do not want to be married, in the matter of fact, I feel that I want to delve through my sexuality, I want to discover my sexual side, and it is crazy that I have realized so many things about myself, one thing I realized, yes I did need emotional tie to that person to actually kiss him, but I was never that much of a monogamous person, I am not leading the argument that I should be promiscuous or anything, but the very feeling of me wanting to be free in discovering my feelings with that person, stopped me and made me feel rather ethical in my orientation, I dismissed guys just because I did not see myself with them in a long-term relationship. I did not want that, I just did not, but I wanted sex, and I thought that I was such an exploitative slut, but now, I am at the point of oking it. So what, I want sex then be it. Damn it, its just sex, and no, I do not believe in the myth of emotional attachment that some people pertain to convince females of, but I think that everyone is different, and everyone has different needs, and any culture, whether western or eastern, tries to subdue such feelings, and desires to line them as if they are a straight line, conforming to the status quo of such cultures.
If I ever think of marriage is because of sexual blackmail, I want it easy with no complications, but the idea of marriage right now, suffocates me, one thing I discovered through some very short-term dating experience is that I like my place, and my private world, I hate the phone ringing, they only that makes me tolerate all that is just pure love and longing for that one. But there is no such one.
My mom’s friend has introduced me to her nephew and he lives all the way in the Middle East, and we’ve talked online, sent pictures, he is nice and a good looking one, but I feel it is such a homework to go and talk to him, he types slowly, he does not know much English, but he is a smart, hardworking person, and mom have always lectured me that we should believe in one’s potential, ya3ni il ingleezi mu fad namooneh! But the thing is, I have chatted with people online whether male or female and I’ve learned who I liked and who I did not like to chat with, and this guy, even though nice, and has some 3amayil, is just I do not feel that Connected to. Not much of connection, not much of a conversation that is like a hot soup. No! I have also, got introduced to another guy, although this one I met, he is nice, very horney and polite, and that is cool, the thing is, he has really bad teeth and a big mouth, and I am not exactly a superficial person, he just needs to clean his teeth. And personality wise, he thinks I philosophize a lot, which I don’t, and I do not consider myself that much of an intellectual, I am analytical yes, but I don’t want to praise myself, because I have not reached to where I want to reach. And even if I do philosophize, he just chuckles and says something else, I want something from a guy, I want to learn from a guy, I want something social sciency in the mix. Now, my cousin upon the virtue of my dad’s help, have sent me an email, he wants me, wants to be engaged to me. He had asked me this a year ago; I mean how can he say that he loves me, if he never met me. Weird. I told him about my agnosticism at that time and he freaked out, but he thought of returning to the right path of Islam and bla bla bla. But I did not want to be with him, because I sense that there is a passport interest, even though I know he is a good person, I just do not want to be means to something. Apparetnly, this year he got engaged to an Iraqi girl, and she has a Dutch passport, the engagement did not work, dad was celebrating the opportunity, without telling me, he sent an email to my cousin telling him to email me and propose again. What the hell!!! I did not reply back and I will keep it as such. My dad thinks that I should think of my cousin, as he is a lug6a 3arees, and dad thinks that he should re-order my life, and that I should enjoy my life.
Now, apart from my world of tradition as a good Arabic girl , my Canadian side is growing and encroaching my senses. I went out with my friends yesterday and yes B, he made it quite obvious that he wants some sex, unattached, and that is something I want to do as well, he is good looking and very desirably kissable, he is what I want through my FREE conscious, he actually asked me to come with him home, I declined, I did not feel like it, and I need time, I think I will explain to him that I probably want him to be my sex guru, and oral sex might be just fine with me, I have not trespassed my fears of losing my virginity yet, very irrational and weak of me, but what can I say, I was brought up that way, even though in the inside I don’t believing in it, and even though I want an open minded guy and I would definitely decline a narrow minded one. But during that night, I met a guy, and there was a connection, an immigrant just like, he came to Canada when he was three from Poland, he is so sensitive, sweet, and such an idealist soul just like me, someone I can easily slip and fall in love with compared to B, B is a free soul, he does not have that much extreme goodness as that guy did, and I loved, how M (I will call him M for now) approached me, how he held my hand, as if he is greeting some hhmm I don’t like praising myself, a queen or something. I liked that, B does not have such thing, B is basically good for unattached, unemotional, physical sex only, he can teach me a lot. What I loved though, is that when we were all sitting, M and me, we were indulging, very excitingly in our own conversation, and when I was more passionate about it, all what I find is, B giving me a back message, even though I must admit, the message that he gave me back in the library was better, I guess the booze got him. But it was such a crazy feelings, I felt that I was back in the jungle, M was the competitor for B, B was giving me some “love” so I can give him attention and not the other guy, and he did something naughty, while he was messaging, he slipped his hand little bit underneath my jeans, I jerked off, and looked at him, he stopped, B wants sex and me wants sex. Cool stuff. But I declined. What is even more interesting, M is as virgin as I am, and we talked about family values, and how our families differ, we talked about the inability of us to lose our virginity just like that, because somehow we need emotional attachment, but we both agreed there is nothing wrong if both parties want sex, we would like to keep an open mind. He also, hangs a world map on his room’s wall, pretty much an international guy, and I share such perspective, but what is sad, very very sad, M is younger than me by three years, and I hate that, well he mistaken me for 21 yrs old, and I mistaken him for 24, he is quite matured and looking for something meaningful like I do. Meeting him and with some virgin people I’ve known, I believe there should be a t.v. series about “virgin in the city”, well, I still want to write my play about virginity, and what is so interesting, one of M’s ambitions is to write a novel. M is by far is something, but I do not know him yet, and I do not know what will happen with me and B, are we going to stay as just friends, or I will tell him of what I exactly want, and my dirty mind is getting dirtier. Not only dirtier, but there also, another guy for me, I met in the gym, an African guy from Spain, originally Nigerian, his line was “do I know you, I think I recognize you from somewhere, did you go to that class?”, obviously making stuff, but we ended up talking, that is something about all African guys, they are so confident in approaching girls, we exchanged numbers, and we going to go to the gym tomorrow, yes, another target, but I do not know, gym buddies, as it is.
I am getting to exposed to many guys at the moment, one major improvement is gaining my freedom, I wonder, why did the hell I gain it now, after I graduate, somehow I regret if I did not have such complete freedom, I did frequent to parties from time to time, but not as much as exposed, feeling free is awesome, but the interesting thing is, I might not have utilized such freedom if I was that free, I believed in chastity, now my options are open! Even if I regained my personality, away from tradition and what not, what if I cancel my two worlds, and be myself, would I ever be able to confront my parents, they want a Muslim dude, or am I able to make a guy convert for me just for a façade in front of my parents. I am torn. Torn between traditions and between what makes me. But I know for sure, that I will be having fun, well I hope.
الهام....فكرة....شعور....لا مفر من هذا الاهام الصادق ، أو هذه الفكرة المعبرة من خيره، أو الشعور بإنسانيتي و إنسانية غيري. . لماذا أفكر، أشعر، و ألهم. و لماذا بكيت بعدها على وسادتي، و في وقت أريد الخلود فيه، لإنام و أرتاح و أنسي جروح دنيايه ؟ لم أشأ أن أرى هذا النور ، و لم أشأ أن يكون لدي إحساس أو أي فكرة بما أشعر، أردت أن أكون هامشيه، بسيطة، لعبة، و سهلة في أن تغريني الحياة، لأكون صادقة، الحياه غرتني، و شعوري فاض، فاص في مسائل أخرى ...و هي أساسها في أن أفكر في إحساس سليم.......لماذا يخنقني غرور الناس و عزوتهم الكاذبة الا خير فيها، لما تبكيني، هل أدركت حقيقتا بأن الغرور في الحياة يصنع الأنانية و العلو الغير صادق في إحساسنا في الخير، نعم الخير..........لندرة من الناس، يصنفون كبارهم بالخير، أين الخير، لا يوجد، فقط مراكز، مظاهر، و كل شئ مصطنع.
أريد أن أشتم الخير، أحس بالخير، أريد مصداقية الناس في عطفهم على الغير.....
لكن لماذا ألمني شعوري، إذ الحياة أغرتني، لمن أنا راجعة، لأي رحمة إلاهية غير مفسرة؟
و إذا ها قد جائني الإلهام الا شعوري، الغير مفسر.........أسأل لماذا أنا...........لما الهداية إذا تأتي مدبرة، و معنية مقصد، لما غيري، لما لا بوش أو هتلر، أو بلير،
لماذا هبة الله هكذا.........و أسأل....مع تفكيري، هل إنعكس تفكيري في الا هداية؟
لماذا أنا هنا، و لما أنا أكتب ما أكتب.......و أشعر ما أشعر، ............لماذا...........الهداية و لا هداية؟
My cousin who just recently came from UAE went swimming yesterday, and he returned home a bit wired, and in a crazy, sarcastic mood. It seems the only naked male body he has seen is probably his, he was totally shocked that the men’s locker room was full of naked male bodies, he was overwhelmingly disgusted, and intrigued. I told him that he would make a very picky woman, but he continued that he will not eat sausages for some, good , looong time….!!
But hotdogs are good, too bad I decided to make timen bagila today, or else I would have made some good, yummy hotdogs just for a laugh, I should buy one of those long, big, bulky ones, once cooked, they would hang, and so all I have to do is to hold it from one point and let the rest of flab hang, and offer it to my dear cousin. I sound like a bad cousin, but it will be an interesting reaction. But no, I am gona be a good cousin, and I will wait for his trauma to end, but he would seriously make a very bad, picky woman, but doesn’t he have one like that too?!
Another explanation legitimizing bombing, the new war technique that is blind to recognize civilians. What? Did military strategist lose their genius, if there was any?
The shelter that was bombed in Lebanon, 57 civilian have lost their lives, 37 of them were children!
The Israel defence is that the “terrorists” have used civilians as a barricade to shoot from!
So, is the new war technique pertain in legitimizing the bombing/shooting of civilians? That reminds me of an argument I had long time ago of Iraqi civilian massacres especially that of western Iraq, the argument in defence of such American atrocities was that of the same nature of Israeli’s argument about defence, and how the terrorists were infiltrating or helped by through civilian homes, therefore, they are collaborates and basically and quite tragically, human barricades!
Is that really war on terror, or is the violence being too vicious, and in a constant cycle of creating more terror – avenging for the lost lives of friends, family, husband, uncle, and neighbours. There are parts of human nature that is not forgiving, classical example, American soldiers avenging for their mates killing against Haditha civilians, so no one exempt, no matter of how highly we think of “them” or how lowly we think of “them”. Such war strategy technique will only create more hatred, and peace will be far fetched.
There should be some progress in drifting laws when it comes to war, it is time for Geneva Convention of war crimes to include (both) parties, something should be done in the name of the civilians, in Lebanon’s case, Hizbolah and Israel should both be accountable! Both are not really nice and scary!
She is tall, witty, sassy, manipulative, free-spirited, smart, blue-eyed pretty gal , and with more double standards when it comes to female rights and duties, she despises house wife work, and believes in working, and hates laziness, yet she demands men to be rich enough to spend on her, she also, have boy toys from time to time, she offers sex and they, or hes buy her and to her other friends – at times drinks, it was totally helpful when her boy toy paid for all of our drinks, that was totally relieving for such poor person I am.
Having said that, I love her, and she is my friend, she is raised from a totally different culture than I am, she has imperfections, yet there is something that draws me to her, I mean, she herself said, that she is no good with men, but good with friends.
I remember the other time when we went out, B was the first person to show up, and then she came late, she had a sudden funeral to attend, anyways, she brought with her a philosopher professor at our university, like any philosopher student, graduate, or professor, he looked like a beggar from the street, it is not something to be ashamed from, but that is the way it is with philosophy people, they hardly dress nice. He was a nice guy, but no, he was not her boy toy, he is a philosophy prof so he gota be smarter from some woman’s intentions, and it was totally unexpected, I just don’t like it when people bring along people I do not know, especially if they are gray and old, I would not mind hot guy, I sound horrible, but yeah I wana live my age, but he is nice nevertheless, and a nice person to have a conversation with, but since she could not suck money from, she called the boy toy, a totally easy prey, he was a divorcee wanting some Companionship, he looked vulnerable, because he looked like that he wanted her badly, even though at times she belittled him, he took everything in, he wanted sex, it was apparent, and she wanted money, and yes, he paid everything – for all our drinks, and yes friends with boy toys are good, and I lost my conscious at that moment, I need some spiritual guideness I suppose. But then again, here comes Dad, and yes I mean it, her dad comes in the bar to join us, and inside me I was shocked, and I did not want any old grandpas around, I understand that my friend is her in early thirties, but common, I thought I would be with people I know and from my generation, but that is just beside the moment. She flirted with her boy toy in front of her dad’s eyes, he was fine with that, I mean he impregnated many women and left my friend when she was just a baby, just recently they are together, but when I looked at him, I could see from where my friend gets some of her quirks, especially, the inability to settle down and commitment. So she was flirting with that boy toy, she was sitting on one of those bar’s stool, and he was sitting on an adjacent, nearby table and she was doing some stuff with her leg, and he started touching the legs, holding her thighs, and then some mild kissing followed, all in front of the daddy ------ it was a cultural shock for me, after six years in Canada I thought no more shocks or surprised will be in my way, but this was. But I did not care, honesty between daughter and father is better than anything else, so it was me, B, the philosopher guru, and the daddy talking, somehow we started talking about religions, and B suggested that all religions have some kind of higher diety that go for, and it has many names, but it is all the same, and then the conversation carried on about the prophets, and then about prophet Mouhamed, and then about angels, her dad was telling us the prophet’s Mouhamed life story and how the prophet tried to commit suicide, and I was lost for words, I just wondered from where did he get this info from, weird, weird , STRANGE, so I told him what I know, but he kept on talking, you know an old man! And then the conversation carried on a different route, and about family, and how family is important, even though B shrugged off, it seems that my friend’s dad regretted of what have he done, leaving daughters and daughter behind, it seems that it is his repenting time, yeah no suicide and such, and he looked good for a person who is recovering from alcoholism! But then it was time to go, the bar was closing, the boy toy wanted the daughter to stay with him, and SURPRISINGLY the dad objected, in my mind I was thinking, why the hell he wants to object now, it seems that all men have this thing, or all daddies have this thing, but in their case, such objection is way more mild than others, but she ended up going with the boy toy. Before the daddy was leaving, I was not concentrating, but I cached him saying to us and was referring to me, that he has “ a real rush on Islam”, my friend laughed in a very embarrassed way, he exited the bar, and then he comes back, saying I think as far I remember, that he forgot to say good bye, and so he was saying bye to everyone, and then my turn was a kiss on my cheek, I did not utter any word, he is an old man anyways, but a horny old man, and B cried saying “here you go sister, it was for the kiss”, I ignored, acted as if nothing has happened, but what the hell!!!!!
So I did not think about anything, and life moves on. About more than a week ago, I left a voice msg to my friend to touch bases with her, she usually calls after, but then, she did not. I thought she might be busy and that she was not embarrassed about her dad behavior, but then I called B today, and apparently he talked with my friend a couple of days ago, weird that she did not reply my msg, can she face me! She always have been image conscious, in one of her drunken state, when we were together in the Irish pub, she told me that she was glad she came from an upper, high class Irish clan, she added, that is one of the good things that her dad gave her. There was also, at one point in our relationship where our cultural background made us misunderstand each other, she thought that I made a high-esteem of my culture and she did look envious when my dad paid one of my semesters, and I also, accused her that she can’t impose western explanations on Middle Easter culture, but we worked our misunderstanding, and we thought of writing papers of how our cultures interact with each others and how we are the same. But she still, does not like people to doubt any ability or status of hers, in the matter of fact, she stopped attending one class of ours, just because the prof asked her a question that she did not know.
Is she going to be the same warm person to me, why is she not calling me back, but her dad had always poured more physiological issues on her, in the matter of fact, I think she not wanting to be married is that she can’t trust men, and that because of her dad!
And I just think, people should not cloth their cultures with their pains, their pains is individualistic and not an absolute reflection of how refined their culture is, she knew well, how my parents were strict with me, I was not ashamed of telling her about my restriction and se should not be with her issues.
But isn’t that all contemplations, I hope so, and I hope I will hear from her soon.
Just came back from the mall today returning an item, a casual top with gray/white stripes with a hood, this never happens to me, I know what I want and my eyes work like a laser spotting the things I like. I do not know, this summer fashion of this year is just boring, boring in the sense that it is impossible to buy something that looks different from the mainstream, everything is the same, all the moderately priced brands have items that look the same, either all dotted or stripes, and if I spot something that I like or has some twist to it, it would be pricey, and I am currently poor, even though mom send us some money, I just do not have the guts to spend on whatever I want, in the matter of fact, shopping was so boring, nothing interesting, and somehow, it is increasingly becoming like a task of hunting something unique, elegant and different…probably I will shop if I go to Detroit or Toronto, they have a lot more varieties. But the awesome news is that I have two job interviews for two sales jobs in the mall, it is of course not my ambition, but it is great for my pockets and it will give me more freedom on where to go and what to do. I hope to get either of the jobs, I was totally embarrassed when I asked mom for money, especially that both mom and dad have sent a good portion of their salaries to my uncle (i did not know about that only two days ago).
Oh well….financial independence is my dream, and hopefully one day I will attain it. :)
Yet, another explosive bomb in the inflammatory Middle East, destination, Lebanon. To be honest, I do not know much about Lebanese politics, all I know is that Hizbalah opened a new chaotic frontier, and for whom, for the Israelis! It feels to me that the Israelis are quite hungry to use 6akh 6eekh - their military power, to prove their existence in the region, but what was Hizabalah thinking? Didn’t they know that Israel got really mad over Hamas kidnapping couple of Isreali soldiers, but honestly what is the big deal over soldiers, aren’t they in contention? Aren’t the soldiers non-combatant targets, so it is pretty legitimate to do harm against other soldiers and - yes I am saying it quite explicitly-, it is the nature of war after all. But in the same time, I fear any Iranian ties over what is happening in Lebanon, there are no such words as “nuclear” and “Iran” in the news. I wonder if Iran is using its regional power to challenge US and Israelis powers, to probably work as a shield to not reach or touch Iran. Iran is a big challenger for those foreign powers who seek further control and penetration in the region. Iran is basically using its cards, well, it is already using it in Iraq, however, the Iranian taking a lead of the latest development in Lebanon is still unproven. And Iran seems that is becoming more of the champion that other Arab citizens are seeking, especially with the use of unethical, amoral, pre-emptive strikes under the guise of being on the defensive mode, is rather defamatory to Israel’s reputation especially on the international level.
But why all the sudden Lebanon, why all the sudden a faction who just recently became part of the Lebanese parliament dictate what Lebanon should go through? Lebanon was growing; it was THE destination to go for tourism in that region, it was a democracy in the making. My experience of warmongers is not pretty, Saddam has tortured Iraq through many wars, and Iraq became like a bone structure of a dying old man, and that is what’ve we got! Is each Middle Eastern country capable of acting in solidarity of other countries in the region, did Hizbalah thought of his actions as in solidarity with that of the Palestinians, even though that South Lebanon and Lebanon as a whole was liberated from Israel, why experience the same nightmare again!
If any country to act in such solidarity, then one country should not be the place of the dirty laundry, solidarity is whole and not one, but do the Arabic countries want more wars, do they want to lose more of their interests, when and how they will deal with Israel and reach a conclusion, is it through mouse and cat games, through wishful thinking that there is actually a resistance.
It seems the only solidarity that is happening is thorough fundraising channels to the Lebanese victims, coming from various Arabic countries, so far they have donated 150 millions dollars, also, UAE visas are being given to the Lebanese people. Yes that is good solidarity, but how come such effort has not been channeled to Iraqis, my uncle that has just left Basra, is having one hell of trouble to relocate from UAE to some other country, since his UAE visa is finishing, he does not know where to go. I do not want to sound jealous, but Iraqis also, need help. But above all, I wish if I can offer any help to my Lebanese sisters and brothers, and hope they will recover soon, and Lebanon to stand on its feet again strong and proud.
So far I have seen two interviews of Nasir Shameh, one in “Kalam Nawa3im” and the other today in “Nashwa” t.v. programs. Not only he is a talented musician, with accredited, well-deserved fame, both in the Arabic and the western world, but what I found out, he is also, a sensitive, good Iraqi/human soul. He is actually doing something for his people, he is currently organizing a campaign, working from his focal point Egypt against the aggravating, and the increasingly widespread rate of cancer in Iraq, and he so fearlessly pointed out the cause of such scourge, and that is quite simply, the depleted uranium bombs that the US has continuously shelled Iraq with ever since 1991. And he also, jeered at the US attempt of bringing liberation, democracy and freedom to Iraq, pointing not only at the intricate complexities of the quagmire that the US has put itself in, but also, the not so “democratic” practices, infamously Abu Ghraib’s scandal, which I believe that the torture was part of the legal procedure of interrogation, only that the big heads, deny and enjoy their living, while the small dogs are the ones like walking ads, constantly showed in t.v.
Nasr Shameh is quite liberal and freedom loving person ,and his campaign is also, to bring along a cultural and rather educational experience for those kids with Cancer, he seems to be wanting to tone down the extremism that is somehow on the increase, through music, and cultured refined taste. But what surprised me, is his honest opinion, without caring if he is to be judged or not, he said, that the operations that are being done against the Americans, are not only done by Saddam loyalists and other ex-Ba’thi members lamenting and grudging for their lost powers, or Jihadists wanting to implement their power , but also, ordinary Iraqis who have lost their loved ones through the process of their country’s destruction, such opinion is rarely held by most of the Iraqis I have known through my online experience, and most of them and I am quite sure, will label such man as a Ba’thie sympathizer, or a suck-up, holding majority opinion to promote his fame more and more but, I think Shameh knew that quite well, since he added that, he is not with the Two Bushies, or with Saddam, to curb any labeling as a Ba’thie sympathizer, because it seemed rather a culture if a person to hold such view, then he is naturally on the other camp.
He says what he feels, he says what he wants, and to be honest, once I heard his opinion, I somehow realized, that if all the Iraqi people thought of their Iraqiness first and foremost, and if their interests were all for the sole purpose of Iraq’s well-being, we would have been a lot better country, no Saddam, no Bush can divide us, but the problem, is that the ruling bunch always put their stupid, most imagined interests first, this stupid, and most imagined interested are always made from components of religious perversion and extremist to one’s group, and ideological fascism for money, control, and just the plain zest for gaining more power.
Yes, I will get back to what makes me, I will start drawing again, and I will come back jotting my feelings to make a poem and read it to my “juice poetry” hang out. I always thought of people who have artistic talents and then leave it all behind; behind the office doors, hide it underneath their fast-past life, below the sound waves of the car beeps, alarm clock sounds, and the traffic jam, to bottom it down to eclipse their fears, insecurities, sadness and any tranquil, mushy feelings to create the façade, of a fixed, motionless, emotionless stern face, confident on the outside, to convince the inside, that they are tough enough to go on with life, and to be further convinced of the routine that life at many points stipulates.
Why abandon art, especially if that person is already an artist in the inside, does life put us in a cycle to makes us more insensitive; insensitive in here, I mean, insensitive to the feelings that we think may make us week and not strong, like the urge to cry over someone’s else shoulder, I do not think a CEO would do such thing at least potentially, given his status, because he is responsible, people are leaning over him, then, why responsibility needs toughness… why the world can not go into a crying session to express our sorrow, sadness, or why can’t the whole world contemplate on what makes us as a whole human race happy, why do people push these feelings aside, is it because they may might not make us tough, we all dream of the far away island paradise, all if not most us are bunch of hippies at the inside, why go on with more pragmatism and forget, the lush scent of roses, why judge dreamers of naivety, why respect concrete, cement, cleaning detergents, car engines, interviews, grass mowers, resumes, and all the bla stuff, and forget that we can sleep on the spongy clouds, swim in a sea of chocolate, and be musical rhythms, flying up and high reaching any melody we want to be, from Beethoven to my own musical beets when I am in love.
If we dare to dream, if we dared to touch the nerve to feel the feelings that have just passed on to our brain, we would be brave, we would know what we shall be able to do, the heart will know, no matter how much we are weak to succumb to “realism” thinking that holding one concrete brick over one fraction of felt hope, is nothing, and nothing but weakness and fear from doing what we ought to be, may romance be our virtue.
This is all pondering; I will get back resuming my endless job of finding a job.
But yeah, I would like to sleep on clouds, are they hhmmm made of cotton or something?
The feelings of beinge attached to a country has always being evolving to me but it reached to a love/hate relationship level of an ever so, emotional instability! I love my country (Iraq) and I hate my country(Iraq), but what I gained of being loose, and my passport was so cheap, is that I became adaptable accepting many entries, giving heads, heads of intellectual drainage, I feel like a hoocker, I can sleep with so many countries as long as they pay good, fondle good! I am a hoocker, that is why, a person with no country has no dignity and no honour, If I want to get my honour, I shall get back my country, and be tight and not so loose and take any dirty money inside ma...pockets! Honour shall be Iraq, and whoever rapes her must pay not money but the love and the self-respect she lost inside her heart and soul, and once she restores the love and respect, no more factions fightng but only love is to be flourished!
Seconds, minutes, hours, another year is taking my life into another round of emotional emptiness, another day of failed unintentional expectations, my feelings are the ones longing to expect of being colliding with another breath, yet another silence… in the wake of my volcanic anger eruption. Ever since I started puberty, my first thought that I will never do the act, only with someone I cherish and love, I have always been the idealist, romantic soul with a good cause of meeting that person, however, I did have my first kiss when I was almost seventeen, it was a horrible, unaccepted, unexpected kiss from an Arab guy who thought I was over nineteen, he did not believe that in his hands, he was holding an Arab girl to be his girlfriend, but his kiss was totally unexpected, and I did not want it since I made my vows, but I felt at that moment to experiment, somehow got seduced in doing so. But, unfortunately, he was a bad kisser, and I went back home spitting, tearing the promise that I will be his girlfriend, but he was one of my many chances to be experienced and learned about sexual life. But then again, I lived my life waiting for that person, at my first two years in university, my high expectations which was at least plausible since most of the guys I met did not want to commit, was acceptable, but then when my sexual frustrations took on and combined with so many problems I was experiencing, I had trouble concentrating on my studies and could not reach my potentials but luckily I was a fighter and got over it. But through my sexual frustrations attacks I remember looking around me, I did not see anybody that I can fuck, communicate my feelings with reciprocal understanding or make love to, it was such a dry life, but I still pursued my ideals whom I believed in so strongly to hold my urges to spill it all over like a rushing waterfalls on the person who is meant to be my friend, husband and lover. But then I reached a point where I questions my believes on holding my virginity, which was initially to keep this feelings to the right person, to feel the emotional stability that my ever so volatile life of moving from different places could not give me, only it gave me hurt and pain, so I could not imagine of hurting these precious feelings that I had. And I always felt that I would be betraying my parents and I would feel sorry for doing this kind of thing to them, and that feeling stems mainly from the culture I come from which most of the time suppresses sexual feelings and desires, it is only through marriage and nothing else. The new stage was, if I reach the age of twenty three, then I must lose my virginity, since I felt that I was passing my life, killing my youth, and not living my age. I reached twenty three, I looked around, I could not see a person that I can fuck, well, yes there was a person, named A, and I found him hot, hot, hot, and I did not feel that turned on or lets say I can be stimulated only and simply by sitting next to him, his height, his presence was so strongly manly. He liked me, and I liked him, he saw things in me that other guys could not see in me, however, the sexual cultural repression and that was my feeling of being rejected in the future if me not being a non-virgin took over, also, I could not see any long term relationship with this guy, so I turned off the offer, even though I killed myself with it. At one my point in my life, he was my regret. After a year, when I was twenty three, I realized that it does not matter if I was a virgin or a non-virgin, if that person to take me as his wife, he should then love me and love me, the way I am, being a non-virgin is totally irrelevant, this revelation of my own strength that I can face this cultural impediments of my own sexuality, was freeing and was an optimal point of reaching my inner strength. Then I reached a point, of finding the person who I can lose my virginity with, I met a fellow atheist, close to my agnosticism, twenty-three just like me and virgin just like me, and he did not like to meet women off bars because he thought that was only bodily interaction and has nothing to do with inner-selfs, he was a philosophy major and I liked his blue eyes, and he liked me. The thing is, I did not feel quite the same, yes I thought he was cute, but I thought he ate a lot, and not ambitious and hardworking enough, with a good amount of laziness, I did not quite like him because I judged him, I did not like him because I simply did not quite liked him. Even though his sincerity was amazing. I knew I could not see myself with this man for a long term relationship, why hurt him, I also, had a homesickness attack and wanted a guy form my community, at least I would feel more funny, and tell lots of funny Iraqi jokes, I wanted a guy that can see my personality from every corner possible, and that would make an inbred of eat and west, with English and Arabic spoken. So I declined this opportunity for ethical purposes. So, time went fast, time of graduation, the feeling of regret that I lost A, made me sleepless, so I decided to call him all the way in some place, not where I live, and yes he still liked me, and yes I still remember his moist, pillow-like lips, but somehow I discovered that I changed, and even though, he suggested to try being together even though he was a not so serious relationship, I was happy, yet bit queer, because of his change and nothing else, so I did not call him ever since, nor he tried to response, my feelings of regrets vanished. And at the lat thought of me trying to be with the virgin, atheist guy, and when I made my made, he got a job in another city! My emotional instability and resolutions, made my decisions always late, my upbringing, my constant change of cultures, made me doubt stability and made me feel scared of changing feelings and moving from one relationship to another, not good, but that is how it happens but do not want it to happen for myself. I took all my decisions with rationality, logic, as those two guys above are neither from Muslim backgrounds nor Arabic, and why do I have stipulate conversion, even though I am not a practicing Muslim, and even though it will be only a façade to my parents, but I could not do that, at least I felt that I should try with Arabic guys first. Still a virgin, with horrible dates, and my date today, yes he is pushed to the friend category again! Yes, I feel I need someone, and I can’t find him. Am I wrong, or all the guys I meet are wrong for me? I have no idea, but one thing for sure; I discovered I could never lose my virginity for one important reason, for love, for trust. I could lose it with R, a good looking guy not interested in commitment, he is easy, quick, and no emotional attachments, but hanging out with him, I was resisting his seduction, his beautiful green eyes, brown-blondish curls, gorgeous lips, slender yet strong shoulders, yes I can resist him, because first of all, I am not a toy, and I have my dignity, and he does not deserve me, still a kid that needs night stands, I was told him, “R I can never imagine you with a girlfriend, you are such a free guy”, he replied saying “thank you”, I was puzzled, since I did not mean it, in any complimentary way at Alll!! A pimp, well a good-looking pimp!
I am tired off writing, I have a lot more to say about virginity in a very different way, and I have decided to write a play about virginity and the different types of sexual life people lead and how our search will always be for love! Now, I am ever more patient, and I hate dating, waste of time, Yack!
Mom is in North Carolina, dad is in Qatar, and I might as well shift somewhere in the universe If I have the golden chance of taking my first chance stepping into a real career. Yes, the blue collar haven city I live in does not provide me with such opportunities, even the volunteering that I am doing, is not quite in my field, and I am just doing it to beautify my so ever so green resume to hard rocks and real measures, and I think I am too ambitious of what I have just claimed, I think that was my wishful thinking, a real volunteer that will boost my job prospects is somewhere in the big apple, NY and in the UN, get to know real shots, real characters that are responsible for making real cynical, realistic decisions that always go wrong! But then again, back to capitalism, I have to be like a YoYo, a seesaw, a roller coaster, or the better description, a butter fly sucking my nectar from every opportunity that comes accross to me. We have to leave the periphery, the unattractive sidelines of unprofessional capitalism, we should live the fast paste, the ever so innovative inventions of abandoning family, loved ones. But what is so funny, I feel that I am blaming everything on modernity, I do not think so, I know for sure, this has been the case whenever there have been the big centres and the small places that are always on the verge of being empty for its obsecure opportunities, sometimes I dream of getting back to the basics, and have a good land and plant my cabbage, tomatos, and my land hhhhmmm should be along some beach to fish my exotic fishes and other sea foods, and my place, I want it to be a small hut. I fish, eat, play, dance, have kids, go to traditional cerimonies, and small flowers as I walk collecting wood to lit my heart with passionate fire, and scream that I love life.
Hell, I always dream of stability, I love a certain routine that I enjoy, I love a certain type of familiarity, probably familiarity with my surounding, and the environment, hhhmm a belonging to a place, to a tradition and group of people I accept freely.
But nah, I changed four countries, changed my high school six times, and I am the modern human beings, the bedouins might have ridden camles in search for a better land to feed themselves and their cattle, but now, we ride airplanes in search for the place that has abundance of jobs and benifits.
I might not mind it for the short term, but if I get married, and have kids, I will kill myself rather than seeing my kids shifting through cycles of "oh, we need to move again".
Boom and bust are just curse of my bewitched reality.
But then again, I am it, I am reality, and I am hear to challenge, so yeah, I will apply for more jobs?!
1.Filling big, huge, long applications and all the paper work for that matter, I Kind of lose my sanity through the process.
2.Money is a bitch, for it tangles my initial freedom from birth to life imprisonment of having to get that dirt in my pockets.
3.The fire alarm. It is enough for me that I am wearing glasses, I do not think I have to lose my hearing for just making kebab/burgers, they should change this loud siren into more variety of alarm tones, how about hibhob beable….yeah I know it is hip hop :D
4.Rap. Enough said.
5.Flip flops, and most of the sandals, as they always give me bruises, I hate bruises, luckily I found one comfy one.
6.Tan lines, I do not like to pass as a Zebra. Nude beaches…hhhmmm never tried that one! (giggles)
7.Men making great symphonies while eating, men talking aloud while me watching t.v. observably, men making stupid, silly comments, thinking they are cool. Insensitive men as a whole.
8.Bombs, and the extremist bugs from all sides.
9.Moral supremacists people, unscrupulous people thinking bad is cool, or closed-minded people judging others of being the ones who are closed-minded, Oh I can not take those ones!
10.Writers using Big, flowery words to flaunt their inability to communicate with the readers. I must admit quite confidently, not all people have memorized all of the words in the dictionary !
11.Cigarettes, especially the smell….Yack!!!
12.Gender double standards, it is funny why is it downtown at night you see Arab guys hanging out with no Arabic female breath I feel in the crowd, what is it, the night life is only for them!!
13.Egoistic People that talk too much about themselves, keeping quiet will always label you as an unaccomplished loser. Humbleness is not their book, but when they keep quiet, that’s when their limit sets in.
14. Hardworking, workaholic people that forgot that life is not only a struggle but a also, a big party booty shaking!