Friday, April 13, 2007

why am i changing?

Yesterday was my first official night out in Jumeira, it was beautiful, the lights were glittering ever so gently like some tender silver, gold goddess face bestowing her happiness on me and people were sprouting everywhere like buds of beautiful flowers worshiping the dark night for happiness, erasing the nostalgia I had for people scenes after the eeriness Windsor left in me after many empty, lonely winter seasons.

I went with a good friend of mine I met just recently; he was the most welcoming, the most generous, and we both went to some hot, trendy nightclub a girl from a small city like Windsor have not seen before.

The demographics were plenty, people from all races, lots of Brits and Arabs though, and it was amazing how many Arabs were congregated in one place, I don’t experience that much often, but nightclub guys I do not know why, all look the same, most of them have the same look, either in Canada or UAE, its almost I try the impossible to read how stupidly from their faces, but I do not see books, I am judging, but they do look like that, they look vain, empty, pleasure worshiping creatures, I figured out at one instance, if we people try as much as we try to be happy, try to help my country or other countires, it would have been that way, if we tried to study political thought process, and its applications, the world would have been a different place, but we all commercial, and all the people who do come to these commercial hubs, do what they have to do, and they are the ones who do things, who make the planet go forward not really as in forward probably forward in emitting CO2, all those people do things, but the people who really advent politics, people who made and are making political theories are only in books I read, the rest are politicians with agendas killing my country.

Just like we have money poverty, we have intellectual poverty, we have activism poverty, all those people who do philanthropy in politics are so small in number to people who do philanthropy and good will to entertain their penises, veginas, excuse my acute vulgarity but I felt he world is vulgar, insensitive, and superficial, it makes people who love and are couples smart, really smart! It makes married couples for a long time, geniuses.

I do not know I felt so spiritually devoid yesterday, I hated girls showing cleavages, I really despised guys and girls who are not couples kissing and doing all that, I felt they were low. I felt everything was vulgar, and I went back home examining my wardrobe, I do not want to be like those girls, even though I do not show much skin, but even that, I do not want to be associated with those cleavage showing girls, I want people to see my person, I want people to see women for who they are, I feel women are like concubines, east or west, I feel that way, I want elegant, demure, well-spoken women. I never thought i would say, but I appreciate Hijab, but I guess I would feel the opposite if I was in a culture enforcing that! I just want to be with strong, smart women!

and I miss coffee shops.

Then I had drinks, I have not had a drink for along long time, I remember telling my best friend back in Canada that I was done with that stage of my life, the loud music, the drinking all does not do it for me anymore, but I was bottoming things down, but with some drink after another, I was doing "for united Iraq", "Free Palestine" Cheers!

But I must admit the music was good, and I missed my best best friend, he would have loved to dance, and rocked the place!

I thought, to myself, at that instance, if I feel spiritually devoid, and numb, I could get my spirituality from dancing, I love dancing, and I will always do, but then I went all crazy, and my friend took my hand, lead me outside, the light struck me, and I found myself speaking to random people, I remember telling a girl that "I miss my dad, I really do" and she smiled back at me, so sweet.

Then my good friend, bought me water and hot dogs, and I started the most random conversation with the hot dog vendor "if you had a daughter, would you let her come to this place," I asked. I am sure he thought I was some stupid drunk girl.
"no," he said
"but fathers should trust their daughters…" and I do not remember what the hell I was saying.

Then I and my friend sat at the pavement, recalling everything I feel sorry for embarrassing him. I could not eat the hot dog, I just wanted water, and then I kept talking about my dad.

We took a taxi cap later, I started the most random conversation, but it was still in me fresh -- the news of al-Sarafiya Bridge bombing, and the whole failure of the security plan –
I started talking about Iraq, I started crying in the cab.

I felt I was giving some patriotic, sentimental speech, the taxi driver looked very sorry for me.
I cried in a cab, I never cry in public, I do not know what happened to me yesterday, I never act that way.

Then when we departed me and my friend, and when I took another Taxi cap, I had this Uma nationalist conversation with him, I talked I talked, this guy opened up to me, he showed me his UAE national girlfriend picture, it does not happen, but this time it... happened, a rich gulf girl with a foreign, south Asian man from Bengladish, love happens, and god bless them.

"we are trying hard," he told me when I asked him about their marriage plan.

But thinking of it all, Is it my reaction to the spiritual void I have, did I feel estranged, did I feel that I did not belong there? Did I feel that I wanted to be a wife that makes kuba and all the nice things and be home reading my books while having fulfilling conversation with that husband of mine?

I think I am gona be alone in this for along time but I know and realize that I am strong enough to be anywhere, and to be me, I will assert myself, and my drops of tears is a testament of who I am, since I have a9il, and this a9il will lead me to spiritual guideness and will be the direction of where I will go.

god bless Iraq and everyone who is good.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

minu ireed cheese

انت ضوء الضياء, الهادئ يتلاشى على امواج بحاري في غضون طايات فجر غامض......انا عاشقة ضيائك....عاشقة ضيائك الهادئ, يهدي و يرسي سفن عشقك, انا على ضيائك هائمة....
انت نظرة قاتلة قتلت كل شعور حتى الحب و تركت ولع لا يجد حبا......احلم في احضانك, انام قرب سرابك, متيمة بسكن احزانك......

من درت وجك اتحاكيني
ما شفت شكل عيونك
ما شفت لونه
بس شفت دهاليز, ليل غميج...ضعت....ضعت بيه
درت وجك ما شفت وجك
ما شفت عيونك
بس شفت احساس امدوخني انصدمت بيه
وكعني وكعة
شسويت بيه

Monday, April 09, 2007

is it true that we all born with something special to give? what if what i can give is only found in some idealistic world, not so technological, not so commerical, not a banknote, not a chemical bomb equation, not so much of quantum physics and lab instruction manual i can not make, not an artifical intelligence program and robots, what if i had only feelings, what if i can only cook, what if i can not bear children, what if i can not be a mother, or a wife, what if i can not be serious, what if i am dream and can not write a real story, what if i am nothing, just a being who likes to sit under a maple tree, asking y


p.s. i am achieving things and happy. i just wrote of what i wrote, do not worry.
I reach my hand,
Over the horizon, I see nothing,
Straight in the air, it stays still,
It stays still,
For me only, I hear its breathing
it breathes in vaccum,
No winds huffing sound.
I dip my finger in a pond,
Maybe it wants to swim,
But no, there were no bites,
Not bites to dismember my nails from its flesh,
the shiny fishes, away.... away, died long time ago
My hands squeak over windows,
And all over the closed windows of the world,
Its all squeak I hear, but all sealing its screams,
Behind the thick glass, I am,
Through windows I look,
No sunlight for my pupil to absorb,
For there was none...light... sunlight…
I cup my face inside the palms of me,
Of me hands,
Sighing down, befriends of memories,
And dreams that are not yet to come,
I sit on a bench, thinking
That my hands hold no hands,
But my lonely face.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

My ambitions scare you
For I am just a feeble word of a brave battle
My dreams saddens you
For I am the person you used to be
My speech is stutter
For my words are strong
My future is bleak
For my steps are great, yet tiny


I have always thought that I was after money and nothing but money, but my UAE stay have proved otherwise, I turned down a good paying English trainer position to stay in for my journalism non-paid internship. The hours did not match my training hours, and it is not something I am wholeheartedly into, especially that is far far far away given Dubai's crazy traffic jam.
But I am still on the hunt for a part-time paying job.

Do I regret going social science, do I regret my choices in life, no.