Heartbroken

It hurts in the morning, it hurts when I go to sleep. It hurts to think I might be lying somewhere dead and he would know nothing about it. It hurts when I know where he is and I can't see him, can't touch him. It hurts to think the world of him when I am nothing to him.

I am nothing.

It hurts to hear his lies, and repeat them all over again. It hurts to suspect he's a jerk, and then know for sure he's a jerk, and all I can do is to be helplessly captivated by his charm. It hurts to trace any news about him, to calculate your every past word and move, and know you can't undo them. And it's not exactly like undoing them will get him to love you.

It hurts to blame yourself for feelings you have no control over. It hurts to think you might end up all alone till the end of your days, deprived of his kindness, deprived of his wit, deprived of his humour.

It hurts to breathe when you're heartbroken.

Aftershock

So my mum just told me "gatek el 2araf" because I refused to see a suitor who lives in UAE. I haven't tried living outside Egypt - but I can't imagine it. I can imagine staying for a few months, bearing disconnection from family, friends and familiar faces, only for a limited while. I am not one to think there is absoultely no hope in this country and that we should leave on the first one-way plane. Of course this may not be the only reason why millions of Egyptians have immigrated in the last fourty years. But many of my male friends have thought about it practically, and found out that by no means can they afford buying an apartment, a shabka (obligatory gold or diamond gift), bedrooms, living rooms etc when they earn say 200$ a month. I can't blame them and no one can, the air in Egypt smells of frustration.
Meanwhile, I am also thinking as unpractically as possible, and I believe that there is no way I can know a person well enough to get married to him through chatting or Facebook. And marriage is not a decision I am planning to be stupid about...it makes you or breaks you. The pressure from mum and dad has been on me ever since I graduated, and I know it will get more unbearble by the day. I am not going to tell mum I'm upset because first she knows it, and second I don't know if I'll be able to contain my anger. But I don't know what to do. I don't know how to handle the pressure in the coming years and at the same time strive to keep my sanity. Doesn't she realise that in this way she could one day push me to make a wrong decision? She prays to God and kneels to him tens of times a day, but still believes that I control who I am going to marry me, and specifically told me not to ruin my own destiny. I am not saying I have picked up proper matches in my life, but I am saying, please, don't make me feel like shit.

How not to get a Man

I would encourage anyone who wants to find a soul mate to follow these three steps:

1. Know thyself. Women who are willing to hide or detach from their real selves in order to bag a man often seem to believe that the right guy will give them a sense of identity and self-confidence. This is backward. Looking for love before developing a strong sense of self is like trying to find the mate of a shoe you've never seen. Next time you're feeling fretfully single, try exploring your own nature: Write down your favorite foods or colors or songs or books or sports. Visit a therapist. Embark on a voyage of self-discovery for its own sake and because it is on that journey that you are likely to bump into the perfect traveling companion.

2. Value thyself. The single women I know are frequently advised, "Stop being so picky," "Have a better attitude," and "Lower your standards," perhaps to the point where they'll date anyone with a penis and a pulse. I believe this is precisely the wrong approach. Why? Consider our statistical friend, the bell curve. The great bulge in the middle represents areas where you are, well, average. This is also the part of you that could easily be mixed and matched with the largest number of potential mates. The skinnier upper end represents your greatest gifts, the areas where you are most talented and extraordinary. The few people who share your most exceptional characteristics are your tribe, the population that is most likely to contain your heart's partner. I suggest that you should be pickier, less accepting and more committed to the "bad attitude" that will make you seek people who are extraordinary in the same way you are. Be courteous to men who don't appeal to you, but for God's sake, don't waste your evenings — let alone your nights — with them. "Oh," conventional rule-keepers might exclaim, "you'll have to spend some nights alone!" Yes, indeed. Your pool of candidates is much smaller at the high-quality end of the bell curve, your chances of having no date on Saturday much larger if you refuse to go out with men who bore or repulse you. But if memory serves, the boredom and/or repulsion of bad dating is much worse than spending a few hours on your own.

3. Engage thyself. The authors of The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right emphasize that in order to get a guy, a woman should always act busy — for instance, when a desirable man calls, it's wise to set a timer to go off a few minutes later, then recite a memorized exit line, such as "Sorry, gotta go. I have a million things to do." Here's my crazy idea: How about actually having a million things to do? How about actually filling your life with interesting activities? If you want to attract a partner, identify what you love to do, and do it—a lot. Involved, busy people really are more attractive, so if you want to get engaged to your soul mate, start by being engaged in activities that fascinate you — especially those that have nothing to do with dating and that make you forget to go love hunting.

From an article by Martha Beck from "O Magazine"

When reality bites in the face

Having spent half of my time chatting in the last couple of years...I can simply form anthologies of what my contacts and I shared...

"(modern religion is the way religion is practiced nowadays... ya3ni hijab 3al ras we mini skirt 3al regleen masalan... bla bla bla... aw shab sonni be satanic icons on his tshirt we keda)"

"5las mb5ash fi 7aga far2a,and yes now u can"

"ana msh 3arfa el nass dy mo3tabera en gesm elly oddamak dah melkeya 3amma zay el 2otobees ely rakbenoh walla eh?"

"why am i dying to live, if im living to die?"

"why am I a victim?
why does god allow it?
I'm sorry, but I don't deserve to go through this shit"

"why cant we be FREE?
why do we have to abide by the norms?"

"despite this asshole of a life
I still believe that what you give, you get back"

"irony of life, one is in deep shit because she can't find a good reason to say yes, and the other because she can't find a good reason to say no"

"waga3 yom wala waga3 kol yom"

"u do not have to luv someone who loves u
but u have to respect
someone who respects you"

"he is a guy
he stays forever 13"

"-I'm laughing my ass off
-hope you are wearing panties"

"r u the one who predicts the bad so as not to be astonished if it happened to occur?"

"-wallahy elly beyrkab mowaslat dah beyta3zzeb
enta btroo7 ezay?
-ma3aya skoda felicia"

"-he's so immoral
-arent we all?
-yeah,and so
-so we are not better than him
-no we're not
-so u cant say hes so immoral
-okay
I take it back
we're all immoral"

"ana met7'an2a ma3 kol elnas"

"stop torturing urself"

"bas lama rabena yeb2a 3'adban 3alaya........."

"u know what kind of personality that wud suit us the most...
the wildy decent guy...he has to b wild aw dominant to tame the 'shrew' inside us, bs he has to b a decent caring person too"

"I'm a champion of freedom"

"bs fel a5er e7na nas gamdeeen msh 7netkeser abadan"

"waiting on the world to change"

"...she should've taken into consideration that most ppl are narrow-minded"

"I still wish i could have one puff of smoke… mesh el a3'beya dol ye3melo sagayer men 3'er nicotine"

"do you think we're living unislamic lives?"

"yalla sweet nightmares"


"nothing can make me feel better"

"why do I love to torture myself?"

"-eh bet3aytee?
-la2 zehe2t men el3eyat"

"Dear depression"

"I'm always very harsh on him.
he doesn't understand that I'm harsh on him because I care!"

"okay Mr. Wilde, enough epigrams"

"I've felt a strange kind of comfort since I saw the graves
I understood where EVERYTHING ends
Here
in this Earth
in this silence"

"my colon is going to hell soon"

"but struggling against life brought me nowhere
so why not give in?"

"why do u want to torture urself?"

"I, like everyone else, have an amount of evil and desire for destruction"

"he's a red-head and doesn't have eyelashes"

"I found out that I love to torture myself"

"-i'm a sexual person
-who isn't?"

"and you know every fucking detail about me
and my boring life
and you found nothing interesting in me except my fucking sexuality"

أهلا بالفراغ أهلا بالصياعة أهلا بالعنوسة"

"you try against the impossible"

"please don't break my heart"

"I don't see a life outside Egypt
a life away from the land I love so much i would die for and my family and friends who cannot be replaced with all the money in the world"

"your life is a choice"

"i want to love u for the sake of loving u"

"are you going to stop...?
are you?
are you going to let go?"

"if u lost me now
how far will u suffer?"

"say bye so I can go grieve"

Men, whatever is wrong with you?

When you're twenty four, young, successful, ambitious, respectable and loved by many, you look forward to an engagement enthusiastically. You imagine spring days and hot summers spent with whom you cherish and breathe a sigh of relief that God has given you all that you've asked for.
When three months later your relationship ends because your ex refuses to certify that his apartment, your future home, is his, and instead documents that it's his mother's, you break down. What's wrong if the apartment is his mother's and not his, I wondered? Well, in the future, if your husband dies, your mother-in-law could have the right to throw you and your children out in the streets. If she is wicked of course, and in this jungle, you really have to take precautions of all the roads that diverge infront of you.
But you're just 24, so after the shock is over and after all the tears and sorrows are spent, you sit back and think of the long days ahead, of all the chances that will still present themselves in the future. You just know that you did nothing wrong, that the blame is not on you. That you are still fresh and lively and oh, how many young and presentable men would be interested in you. It can't be the last chance. There are no last chances when you are just twenty four.
The days go by and you are now twenty seven. You have lost hope of ever settling down. You will live and die a medical spinster. It has ended. It is all, all over now. Twenty seven year olds are too old and wasted to marry. Ripe and mouldable twenties and maximum twenty-ones are the cat's meow.
Until a familiar face arrives. A face you wouldn't have even dreamt would think of you. A dreamy, innocent face. A successful neuropsychiatrist, mind you his profession. You blossom again, you keep thinking; is it true, is it even possible, that I have found the love of my life? The love that would linger on behind a loaded and almost unbearable life? At last I will have a child of my own, to raise and pamper and adore and take good care of and die for!
Everything goes smoothly as it should be, a couple of arguments here and there but who doesn't argue? I believe that the lack of arguing is a problem. The lights are turned on, the engagement party is prepared, the few, intimate guests share little chit chats and heart-felt laughs, soft music is played...
'Dah benna m3a-ad...
w law w7na bo3a-ad...
akeed rage3 w law beny w ma beno bla-ad..'
You start preparing for the wedding, you choose the wedding gown and your tailor starts cutting and mixing...you gather bits and pieces of your future household...wrapping it up to protect it from the dust.
But you have arguements from time to time, naturally. You are hurt but you try to 'come on yourself ' because you want this story so much and cannot imagine that it could just end, and that your nights would return darker and heavier. You try, but you fail.
This, in short, is my sister's story. Today she broke off her second engagement. You know when tragedy occurs for a second time, you just suspend your belief for a while. You go through a phase of denial. It can't be true. She isn't going to go through another break-up - oh, no, she won't. But she went through more than just another break-up this past week or so, and the way I see it, for no logical reason. Her fiance had female friends whom he used to go out with and call frequently. When my sister objected telling him how this is unislamic and that she wouldn't accept this kind of relationship in his life, he replied saying...
'So, are you the one who is going to make decisions? Are you the man of the house or what?'
Imagine this! This is how an adult, educated, religious Egyptian guy thinks. This is how he thinks in the 21st century. That being the 'man of the house' means that you make orders, and that your partner or whatever armchair you are married to has to obey silently and that is that.
It doesn't mean that you make your partner feel safe. It doesn't mean that you forgive. It doesn't mean that you tolerate. It doesn't mean that you accept your differences, knowing that she accepts you as well. It doesn't, of course, mean that you enjoy those differences. No. Being 'the man' in a relationship means that I do what I see is right, and not take into consideration my partner's opinion. She is a woman. She lacks religion and mental abilities. It means that I choose to live our life the way I want, because, come on, I am the man. What would she want more than a successful, handsome and religious husband? She should just take it and shut the fuck up.
My sister is no angel. Yes, when she's angry she sometimes hurts me with her words. But as soon as she calms down she runs up to me and hugs me - a hug that wipes out any bitterness in my heart. A hug I never see except in idealistic TV sitcoms.
How come men lost the ability to tolerate? I keep imaging myself in my deathbed, and wonder how people do not imagine themselves in the same position. In my deathbed I wouldn't wish I had lost someone just because he was once rude to me. I was intolerable myself at times. Sure I was. In my deathbed, I would know that this human bond that ties me to all those I know is the most valuable thing I ever had, and ever will in another life. What with the tensions, what with normal everyday issues...they will pass. They will pass and love will live on.
How come people do not realise this fact and just find the easiest solution to abandon one another? HOW COME? Yes, my question is to men though I know there are same-minded ladies out there...but I want men to answer me. Why would you trade loyalty and comfort for sheer arrogance and control? What would happen when you eventually control your partners and turn them to speechless models of patience? Would you be happy then? Is this your way to paradise?
Whatever is wrong with you?

Candle in the Dark

I'm shining like a candle in the dark...

when you tell me that you love me !

Is this Love?

Dear, dear reader,
He came along to our house with his brother and mother. I had known he is handsome, but when I first saw him, I was quite disappointed: he had this line of moustache – a moustache, in the 21st century! – and his haircut was quite, quite old-fashioned. Not the guy for me, I thought, he looks so naïve, so innocent, kham as we say in Arabic. He did, however, give me a sly smile over his cup of tea. His brother looked promising with his tiny, sparkling black eyes and matching wavy black hair. A good match for my sister. They would probably have pretty babies if this marriage gets done. My sister was thrilled,
'How lovely would it be if you two got together! He's a perfect match for you – talkative and funny.'
Me? Funny?
'No way, Nancy, he has this thin line of moustache like he was a 40s American soldier!'
A few days later.
'You know,' I said, reflecting, 'if he grew a tiny beard it would be just right on him.'
'He's an OFFICER. Officers don't grow beards. Have you ever seen any do so?'
I suddenly realised there was none. But I still imagined him growing a golden beard like his golden hair.
We went over to their house the second time. He was wearing a Lois Jeans. I thought…so you're from Planet Earth and wear brand names like the rest of us. He was always engaged in the conversation. Always attentive, especially when I spoke? Oh, well, people are always attentive when you speak, because it only happens in blue moons.
I didn't want to get married to a naïve guy. I don't know what gave me this impression, but I kept thinking - what does he know of the world? At least I know a little. But what does he know? He looks like a bud that is just opening up and I – I opened up before my due time –
My sister found out his Facebook account. Now, that's something – not that it is something to have a Facebook account but that he logs on to the internet and knows about Facebook and has +50 friends! So, he's not really the Clark Gabel I thought he was, maybe now a Colin Farrell?
And then I saw his profile picture. He was in military outfit, laying back comfortably, his left arm above his head and smiling peacefully at the camera. That was when I was totally obsessed by him – totally. And if you don't know, dear reader, how it is for a girl to be obsessed with someone, there you go;
I began exploring every inch of his profile, every face in his friend list, every comment he ever made on a photo. There are only two girls among his friends. Two pretty girls. One of them is his cousin and she looks sweet in her black veil, fair skin and shiny, hazel eyes.
The day they visited us to settle on who the hell is going to pay for the appliances and furniture, I spent most of the time preparing and serving the drinks. But when I offered him his soft drink, it was the last drink on the tray , so I asked him, 'Would you like me to make you a different one?!!!'
!!!!
So you think you are being FRIENDLY?
He coloured and said, no, thank you without raising his head to meet my eye.i could hear his brother laugh. Oh, damn, I screwed up. But I guess it paid off because the moment I returned to my seat he looked directly at me. So straightforwardly that I had to look somewhere else –
And again when I was preparing the dessert, I caught him – I actually CAUGHT him – peeking! My sweetheart had a bad cold that day…and I woke up the next day with a sore throat!!
Facebook. Facebook. Facebook. I was trying to trace any sign of infidelity when I found this under his Superpoke! Application:
'…hugged private.'
Ouch!
And on my birthday! It can't be made for a male friend – that would be so gay and besides if it was a guy why would he make it private? You hug her on my birthday? What are you – heartless? I even clicked on this private but it only directed me to my homepage. What, he hugged me? Oh, no. I don't know how this application works and I didn't want to have any wilder ideas.
So who is she, really? Where did he meet her? Are they in love? Is she sexy? Does she offer better drinks than I do! And how and where on Earth would he meet her anyway when he has been to a guys-only college? Which is also a 'boarding-college' – In the weekends? A friend of a friend? This cousin? Did he secretly date a girl from the college I went to – a trendy, high-heeled girl from the Faculty of Arts and a handsome, tanned, well-built, innocent-looking young officer from the college just around the corner- the Military Technical College. A classical example.
And, dear reader, I don't know if it's just me who does that or is it the norm. But a girl's imagination is so impulsive – so damn impulsive that the moment, the very moment she sees someone and likes him, she just takes him through all of the closed doors of her mind. He would make a good husband, I thought, gentle, helpful and caring. But didn't you want someone rough- And a good father, loving, naughty and noisy. And it will be just fine because we would have known each other for a while and let our feelings grow naturally, and we would by that time have known their family well. And then he would propose. And everyone would envy us – a match made in heaven, they would say, and I would wear my pearl necklace, wisteria scarf and walk into Costa Coffee with everyone staring at me – here comes his girl at last. She's pretty. Couldn't have suited him better. This, dear reader, is how a girl gets obsessed, possessed.
But then I kept asking myself…why do you just love to torture yourself? Why do you keep tracing his every fucking status, waiting for a sign, waiting for a clue, when he probably doesn't care? At least you don't know yet whether he cares. How come you're thinking of a future with him when you hardly ever spoke to him, and can only remember his face because you spend your nights staring at his picture? Why? Aren't you scared that your own delicate heart be broken? Doesn't it matter to you at all? At all?
We've all had dreams that SHOOK us, whether good or bad ones, and today I was in this sweet slumber when I found him breaking down my walls, coming into our house, playfully tugging at my skirt and telling me that he is sure about his feelings and that they are now ready to propose.
I woke up and had this sick feeling of wanting to go back – to hang on to him – not to let him go – not to let even his image go, slip away so simply –
Tomrrow is Nancy and Muhammad's engagement, and until then I'll miss you – ohh – I'll miss you, Green Beret!

Sincerely,
Wild at Heart
"Is this Love?
That I'm feeling?
Is this the Love…that I've been searching for?
Is this Love?
Or am I dreaming?
This must be Love,
Cause it's really got a hold on me…
A hold on me-"
Whitesnake, Is this Love?

To be continued…?

My Birthday Resolutions...

On my birthday I vow that I:

• will look upon the face of God every day.


• will not spend hours on end at the pc and forget that I have a life.


• will live this life to the fullest!


• will be kind, because everyone I meet is fighting a hard battle.


• will keep finding out the purpose of my life, and carry it out.


• will give more time to my family and friends...tell them that I love them.

Sounds simplistic, I know, but I'm really just a Child at Heart.

I loved You

May I in this eternal darkness of mine eventually find peace.

Departure

He said he was leaving...and her heart sank deep in her chest.
She blushed as she thought of grabbing his arm and telling him to stay just a little more so she can tell him...
What did she want to tell him?
Some moments are so overwhelming that any words uttered would be meaningless.
He moved towards the door in heavy steps, then he turned to look at her and only her, and repeated "Goodbye."
She was loking at him, motionless.
What did he want to tell her?
Maybe he wanted to grab her arm and take her away with him.
Or...
Maybe he wanted to read the lingering thoughts on her mind.
And he left...
She couldn't bear to see him suddenly slip away from her...she took a step forward, then back again, then suddenly leapt out of the room, anxious and grieved, saw him stepping down the stairs and fading away. She wanted to call out but her voice died in her throat.
If she had wanted to speak, why was she silent? Why are we always silent when the people we love need us so much!
I dared not tell you to stay...but as I stepped back into the room I knew the words escaping me were...
"every time you go away...you take a piece of me with you."

You being you

I saw you today dressed in black, black locks of hair falling over your fine forehead...your eyes deep, deep blue as they always are; looking at me with that eternal look of hesitation. And when I took you to my arms,you didn't understand I was not just greeting you, you didn't understand that I needed to feel you in my arms,like I need you now, like you always haunt my wildest dreams. I wish I could show you more of my skin than the exams and studying and the languages and college...but it's always never the right time. You are always on a hurry...slipping away from my fingers before I can show you how much of a soulmate you are to me. How can I express! How can I express among those swarms of people, this leaden sky...this short time...that only gives me a minute to look deeper into your eyes, searching for a clue I can never find. Is there any chance for you and me? Sometimes I just wish I could stop the sands of time, take you somewhere only we know and just pour out my entire self into your ears, into your lips, "then I'll let the darkness cover me...deny everything...slowly walk away...to leave again...on my own."
Have I ever told you how much I miss you...my dear I always do. It's just insatiable...all I've got for you in my soul. And to hear of you talking of the unknown lover you're waiting for...of the extreme loneliness you're living in...of the inexplicable desire and tension living in your soul that you try to express in your art, breaks my heart. And oh...oh if you know what it is for a heart to be broken!
I wonder why you ever have to walk away from me...where else will you ever find a heart that bleeds just to see you leave, leave so simply and leave my world behind! Where else will you find a heart that would rather be silent forever than ever hurt you? So don't talk about waiting for someone to love. I bleed for you. I ache for you...
You being you...you being everything you are...the distressed artist... the puzzled child...the yearning lover.....the ordinary face amongst the millions of faces we brush by as we go through each step of the way. The black magic in your eyes that just transfixes me when I sense it. That holds me from saying the words that had kept my heart and tongue for so long in captivity...

Or do I have to be a man?

!لو أنى فقط أتلاشى

I wouldn't live my life again if I could...only that I would love to study -again- the works from which I hand-picked these quotes!

"The world is sometimes just."
Maxine Hong Kingston,The Woman Warrior

".......:I only wanted to relieve my mind
By telling someone what I'd been concealing.
........:all you wanted was the luxury
Of an intimate disclosure to a stranger."
T.S.Eliot,The Cocktail Party

"There's no memory you can wrap in camphor
But the moths will get in."
T.S.Eliot,The Cocktail Party

"What is hell?Hell is oneself,
Hell is alone,the other figures in it
Merely projections.There is nothing to escape from
And nothing to escape to.One is always alone."
T.S.Eliot,The Cocktail Party

"It no longer seems worth while to speak to anyone!"
T.S.Eliot,The Cocktail Party

"Can we only love
Something created by our own imagination?
Are we all in fact unloving and unlovable?"
T.S.Eliot,The Cocktail Party

"Disillusion can become itself an illusion
If we rest in it."
T.S.Eliot,The Cocktail Party

"Rose:What's it like out?
Mrs Sands:It's very dark out.
Mr Sands:No darker than in."
Harold Pinter,The Room

"It is a thousand pities never to say what one feels."
Virginia Woolf,Mrs Dalloway

"(He):No man sacrifices his honour even for one he loves.
(She):Millions of women have done so"(!!!)
Henrik Ibsen,A Doll's House

"Most of life is so dull that there is nothing to be said about it,and the books and talk that would describe it as interesting are obliged to exaggerate,in the hope of justifying their own existence."
E.M.Forster,A Passage to India

"O untimely death,death."
William Shakespeare,King Lear
By the way is death ever untimely?

"We are such stuff
As dreams are made on."
William Shakespeare,The Tempest

"O,that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw,and reslove itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter."
William Shakespeare,Hamlet
Everlasting:God
canon:law

"I wanted to find a hole in the ground and hide myself in it forever!"
Tennessee Williams,The Glass Menagerie

"You can't eat the orange and throw the peel away - a man is not a piece of fruit!"
Arthur Miller,Death of a Salesman

ما معنى أن أستمر فى هذه الحياة الكذبة؟..من أكون..و لم لا أنزل الاّن فى جوف النهر.أرقب من قلب الماء بطون ذلك البجع الأبيض الرجراجة وأصلى أن يحملنى التيار بعيدا جدا,بعيدا عن البجع وعن البط و عن الأشجار والجبال وعن البشر -- بعيدا ألى فجوة مدفونة وسط الصخور أندس فيها و أنزوى ثم تغمرنى الطحالب والنباتات والقواقع و الأسماك وتخفينى إلى الأبد؟
لو أنى فقط أتلاشى

بهاء طاهر,الحب فى المنفى

"But man is not made for defeat....a man can be destroyed but not defeated."
Ernest Hemingway,The Old Man and the Sea