In the arms of the beloved

"There is a place where words are born of silence,
A place where the whispers of the heart arise
There is a place where voices sing your beauty
a place where every breath carves your image in my soul" ~J. Rumi

The Joy Of "E"

Six Sexy E's:

1) Ebullience
2) Euphoria
3) Epiphany
4) Epicurean
5) Eureka
6) Ecstasy

So very Quiet on the western Front!

Day four:

It’s quite now….
Eerily quiet….
They got Larry last night….
It’s just a matter of time before they come back for me…

The diary of a valentine chocolate with the yucky apricot cream filling.

As much as I’d love to take credit for this… It’s not mine… It was a hallmark shoe box card I saw on my way to the Fererro Rocher aisle.. Mmmmm Chocolate!

What if?

What if women were as easily turned on as men?
What if all it took was a guy with the right kind of butt or chest?
What if the whole guy girl thing was as simple as a suggestive glance?
What if both males and females were as equally satiated by their visual perception?
What if it was just about procreation?
Reckless recreation at best.
What if it wasn’t about mental stimulation?
What if it wasn’t about security and emotions?
What if it wasn’t about the need to connect with someone on a non-sexual level?
What if it wasn’t about selective chemistry?
What if?
Well I’ll tell you what if…
In one word… Mayham
I think the world’s best interest is founded and based on the misunderstandings and miscommunication that are a predominant part of the interaction between men and women.

It is population control.

It is the means by which family lineage is preserved.

It is the restraint that keeps every Tom, Dick and Harry from being related and keeps family trees looking like trees and not just a tangled fisherman’s net.

It is a gift in disguise.

Profound Proclamations and Cerise.

On this quiet Friday afternoon, I as I often do, chose to discuss matters of profound importance with an esteemed friend. The all round girl banter took a rather interesting turn however, when she pointed out that at our age we handle more responsibility than the average Egyptian girl/woman and that because of that it only makes sense to expect the same of the opposite sex. The male complex of commitment should really have an expiry date. Being my usual instigative self I said that that’s all fine and dandy but within reasonable limits… like for example… you may be ready to be in a steady relationship and commit to its responsibilities but are you for example ready to be a mother. And just like that… cerise… my playful young at heart amie went from being a kido to a full fledged all grown up life sized inflatable adult Cerise…. Without giving it a second thought she said something that meant she was ready to have Eden at her feet… She could wake up tomorrow and be a mummy and know with all her heart that she’s ready. And that was it for me… there I was looking like this… ..
Maybe its me and not the world... I thought oh god!

I’m one of those people stuck in an age group but refuses to grow up… I'm the 40 year old women with the tiger print mini skirt and the teased bleach blond hair with so much hair spray in it the heat from a light bulb would make for a colorful pyrotechnic show. My mother keeps looking at me and making comments like "embrace your womanhood Sandy!" And I suppose if its only about dressing for the part then I imagine I wouldn’t have such a problem… I’m all for Halloween... But deep down inside I Know its my indecision... I stand in front of the fridge at the convenience store and can't decide if I'm in the mood for a fruity drink or a carbonated one for what seems to be an eternity. And if its not indecision then it might be my inability to do everyday stuff and enjoy it… Even though I've been extremely good the past year and have managed to put on one or two yummy dinners, One can not forget that at one point in time I managed to burn SOUP! Who burns soup?!
I have a hard enough time trying to take care of myself half the time... how could i possibly be ready for motherhood? So I pay my own bills, I have a steady job and I’m attempting to save for something big but… the thought of a poor little mini me... Being entirely dependant on me? I mean think about it… if baby gets diaper rash its because I didn’t use the right kind of talcum powder… If baby gets an upset stomach its because I fed baby some steak at the age of 3 months… I get cold sweats at the thought!
If I am to be a mummy I want to know that I will be a good one! It’s so easy to mess a person up! Yeah sure “lolo” might seem like an appropriate thing for you to call your oaf of a son at home but at a high school football game… things could get pretty dramatic for the poor fellow real quick!
I don’t think the whole thing can be attributed to me being emotionally handicapped… I love kids but really... Isn't that sort of because i can give them back at the end of the day? Ifatfirst… you can relate to this… you spend a big part of your life with at least 12 4th graders. I’ve heard you say that when you come home you just can’t talk anymore… that the instructing and being calm and collected all the time drains you… what if they were yours? What if they were keepers?
All in all I don’t know what it’ll take to make me think I’m ready for mummyhood but for now… I like that my only worry is about what kind of cereal to have in the mornings.

How do i Kill me... let me count the ways.

So even though suicide isn’t an option in my books the thought does often cross my mind… and I’m always thinking if I ever decide to do its got to have style and flair. People won’t remember why I killed myself but simply that I did it with alota heart! In true homage to the whole “its better to burn out than fade away.”

So I’ve decided to think of all the wonderfully wonderful ways one could terminate one’s life… by the by…The use of the word one to refer to oneself should be one of the many indications that one needs to indeed commit suicide and end one’s life. Assuming of course one is not her majesty the queen of something rather. And so without further ado let the fun begin.

1) A shower in liquid nitrogen and a trust worthy friend to push u off of a really high building shattering your frozen stiff body into a million bits of uncollectible glass.

2) The good Old run off of a cliff and linger in mid air for a bit only long enough to waive good-bye then plummet into an abyss followed by a cartoony sound effect.

3) A heart attack from eating way too much funnel cake at a theme park.

4) Diving into a tantalizingly blue ocean when you don’t know how to swim only to realize you’ve been swallowed by a whale and that you’re attempt to commit suicide really didn’t work out and that all this just simply reconfirms the fact that you truly do SUCK.

5) Having your head filled with hot air to the point where your ego is about to burst, being stabbed a million times with what appears to be a dull pencil/some veterans war stories… all the same effect really and finally being set free into the dark sea of your sadness (please note the not so subtle use of symbolism here :P) only to find that you’re sinking because of all the lead marbles you’ve been carrying around in your underpants to give off the illusion of bigger package.

6) And finally saving the most dramatic for last, pointing a gun at the side of one’s head at an interesting enough angle to ensure that a white canvas catches all the bits. Have someone let it sit to dry somewhere and before you know it you’ve got art deco at its best! The color combination of crimson and white is the IKEA thing to do!

Quote de jour

Wit is educated insolence -Aristotle

Casanova has a point?!

I went to see Casanova last night. Though it was an extremely typical first date/ teenage movie it attempted to address an important issue. The connotations of love from a monogamous vs. polygamous perspective. The proposition was that promiscuous relationships are a different form of love. The explanation lay in the idea that each encounter stands on its own, yes sure it is short lived but for its brief lifespan it is encompassing, unique and genuine. A thought experiment began to fester in my head and questions like ‘What then can be said of a person that strings many “love” stories together? Having some overlap and coexist… Does a person need to Love only one person to be labeled as “in love” or can statements like “you aren’t in love you simply love yourself” be made?’ The logic here is that a person who continuously chases the momentary feelings of bliss does it to satisfy ones own need for affection/ attention vs his/her inability to do anything but succumb to the emotions provoked by a specific person.
Wikipedia defines love as “acting intentionally, in sympathetic response to others (including God), to promote overall well-being.”
Acoording to this definition it is safe to assume that both polygamous and monogamous people are capable of being in love. The fact that sally will soon be replaced by Jane or that Derek is the centre of his Emily’s universe is irrelevant to the definition of the word. And so under what pretense is it that people are quick to label anyone who has had multiple partners as selfish? I think the key lies in the disassociation of the physical acts of love from their attachment to a specific person. Participating in the rituals of love does not entail their disattachment from practicing them with a specific person. What am I trying to say in all this? Well I guess it boils down to the idea that the word love has many meanings and if to Casanova it means the small moments linked together to fill in each second of each day with a different girl then so be it. And If to the hopeless romantics like myself it means attaching it to a rumbly in the tumbly that only a specific person can give you then so be it as well. I say to each their own and just because my definition of love is different than someone else’s doesn’t mean I should let the only exercise I get be jumping to conclusions. Live and let live!

play dough anyone?

Was sorting through some junk under my be bed last night and found some old notes from my philosophy days. God I sound like that was ages ago when in essence it was only 2 years. I’m afraid to think of what I’ll sound like at 50. So where were we? Ah yes… Plato’s theory of forms. I remember being blown away by it when I initially wrapped my head round the concept the first time but rereading it again just sort of rekindled this giddy feeling I get inside when I feel like I’ve seen something in a new light. I suppose before I start to rant and rave about all the implications and what a powerful tool it can be in the wonderful world of deep conversations, a brief synopsis is in order. Basically the premise lies in the idea that there are two realms. The first being the material world, the one we perceive with our senses and the second being the realm of forms. The realm of forms can be sorta kinda but not exactly thought of as the concept, attributes, characteristics or idea of an object. An example is probably the best way to understand what I’m on about… take for example a basket ball. The actual manifestation of the ball and its physical presence is one realm and its roundness, texture, ball ness, color are all its different forms. It is the combination of these forms that make it a basketball. Now the trick is this. Plato says these forms don’t exist in the physical world. They are in our minds and are how we identify objects. With that said he goes on to state that if these forms are found in the physical world then what we perceive with our senses is in fact a copy of the form, an imperfect on if u will. Everyone knows what a perfect circle is but once we attempt to put it on paper there are slight imperfections that make it less than perfect. And hence forms can exist without an exact carbon copy in the real world. So there u have it the theory of forms.. the reason all this is mind boggling is this… consider using this theory in the attempt to discuss the existence of god and evil in the world. Skeptics will often say show me that there is a god. Prove it. And when u naturally point to nature, the inner workings of the human body and the cosmos ability to function perfectly in unison you’re often met with the good old.. If god there is a god and he is perfect why are there imperfections in the world? Why does evil exist? And the answer to that is through the use of Plato’s theory! U know what a perfect circle is…but draw one for me and inevitably it'll be slightly imperfect. Does that mean there is no such thing as a circle? Course not it just means the real world manifestation isn't as perfect as the idea. Under the same logic expecting something perfect for our senses to precieve as an indication of the existence of god is wrong. and with that you see what i mean when i say the theory opens up a whole can of worms by the mere suggestion. Think about it.. munch on it and you’ll probably come to my sentiments exactly. I should point out however, that even though the idea is a simple yet extremely meaningful one the logic behind the argument is a little flawed… the premises are magnificent on their own but do not necessarily lead us to the conclusion that many are too often quick to make.

Robabikia

An existance soley devoted to the journey...
A wanderer of sorts that roams the streets in the wee hours of the morning in the small hope that someone's junk will be anothers treasure. A broker, a collector of once loved and cherished items. He takes material possesion and leaves sentimental value behind. He is the hew home for all that is held too dear to be tossed aside with no future purpose. He is a symbol of the uncomplicated. To him it is about satiating the hunger pains and quenching the thirst but to me right here .. right now.. He is about the journey.. about the ability to wander the streets bathed in the suns warmth and have your lungs filled with the crisp morning air. He is a symbol of all that is untouched by the evils of greed the corruptions of power and the impurity of politics. A man and his donkey.

Bureaucracy

Ok so they think you’ve got what it takes to possibly make it in their oh so glamorous organization.. You do your bit.. you study on your freaking plane ride home… avoid daydreaming about all the good times you’re supposed to instantaneously forget and focus on whats to come… you memorize all the useless crap that people at the company supposedly know! You become a cow munching on the information just long enough to spew it out during the interview.. Regurgitation! What is it with baby cows? Fols? I think that’s what they’re called…I mean really we think Egyptian kids with fathers who work for the big ass petroleum companies have it good? What’s to be said about the damn cows? The freaking cows! They get their food chewed for them for gods sake! So anyways I get all spiffy. Dress to impress so to speak and I think I know my shit! I’ve done the job before and my boss expressed her appreciation time and time again… I try to remain positive and completely forget the fact that I work for a place that places mucho points on seniority and well that I am a bottom feeder in that respect… I go into the interview and do my thing... the cocky smile, the I know I’m gods gift to all employers, the dance... I make the lame jokes! Oh god it’s the lame jokes that just eat away at my freaking existence! The smile behind which I’m thinking fuck the job just do me a favor and bend over so I can give your derriere something to remember me by. And I leave.. knowing I gave it my all and that she (the boss) knows that I know out of the bunch except the one with a gazillion years experience that I deserve the job. But bureaucracy takes its toll and these are just hoops that we jump through… I remember having a conversation with the big boss woman a million years ago.. ok so maybe it wasn’t a million year ago but more like 3 months ago, about how I wanted my contract extended and how she said.. we’ll post a position soon but so and so wants it. I gotta give mrs so and so credit where its due I mean the woman did manage the team for 12 months she knows her shit but its not the fact that she’s getting it that’s pissing me off it’s the mockery they make of the freaking interview process! Why stress me out with an oral and a written and further agitate me by having to shoot the shit with you folk if you already know who you ‘re going to give it to!
Why tantalize me with the notion of an opportunity only to confirm that you’re going to give it to her?!
Why?! Like I said I’ve got nothing against the woman... she’s really sarcastic, which is always a plus in my books. She’s even invited me to a shindig at her place… I am a good sport… and I can accept defeat its just… oh god wait… I’m a bitcher and a moaner! Who am I kidding? I’ve become one of those can’t be happy for people sorts!
NOOOO !
wait a minute!
This isn’t about her as a person!
This is about the concept! The idea of an interview selection process that supposedly has no preset outcome being rigged! Point is ! I feel cheated used and left to dry! Is this what prostitutes feel like when they’ve done their bit and their pimp cleans them out for all their juice? Hmm I wonder!? Ok stay focused!
Bottom line is it sucks! Being punished for something you can’t help.. I hope to god they prove me wrong and not jade me with the thorns of bureaucracy.

Hal yokhfa al kamar?

The wish to celebrate a festival with which I can identify has finally come true. A people as a whole rejoicing for all the same reason… their reason… my reason… our reason… A euphoria caused by both the sense of ownership and belonging. A spiritual rejuvenation. I anxiously anticipate the sound of the Adan fluttering through the air echoing words that inspire believers to unite in place whose prime virtue is attributed to its magnificent acoustics. A treat both for my ears and my soul. Prostration, emancipation, retribution and redemption combined. Its strange that just by crossing the Atlantic the moon’s identity is transformed from one of lunacy and horror to that of love and beauty. As I cross over the large body of ocean so to will I be transformed from a Canadian Arab to an Arab Canadian. The moon marks the beginning for me…. The beginning of adventure… the beginning of joy… the beginning of belonging… the beginning of celebration and the beginning of Eid as I’ve never known it before!

Coruscating light

Something about the way light dances on wet surfaces that screams out fantasy land. Plain stillness choreographed perfectly. All lines of reality blur and mesh into one big breath taking fuzz or color.

Bound By Me

I am a child of the 80's.
I can not fathom the true meaning of the word kamikaze and I can not say I have been in the shoes of those driven to crime by hunger.
I do not know the dark harshness of poverty and I wasn’t allowed the bliss of ignorance.
I am educated and I am opinionated but I am not free.
I am creative but I am stifled.
I have thoughts that are housed outside the box but are contained by the chains of my capabilities.
I am an arab and I know for a fact that arabic is an expressive language, yet I can not orchestrate in words the symphonies of beauty that my language affords me.
I have stars in my eyes and a thorn in my side.
My thoughts raging and my imagination volatile but my tongue muted... not by censorship and not by oppression but by inadequacy.
I’m well versed yet suffer the restrictions of my vocabulary.
I am fluent but still the power that my pen possesses in English becomes nothing more than a want...
a desire..
An aspiration to manifest lines that are eternal not because they provide answers but simply because they are echoed through the sands of time... because they are read... memorized... repeated and are a magnificent testimony to a glorious language. I yearn to create pros and stanzas that move mountains. I am filled with expression and no way to materialize them. How do you portray what dreams my come if you don not know how to sleep?
And so you see...
I am not free...
I am bound by me...

Psuedo Poem

Expression becomes me
I write whole heartedly

letters become words
words become birds

cluttering the pages
fluttering in rages

sentences noting nothing worthwhile
a futile attempt at literary style

loonies!?!

Who calls a part of their currency a loonie anyways? you sort of have to say it to yourself and think about it to get what i mean. "I had a loonie here" ... i keep getting visuals of rubber walls and an oh so radiant bleach white straight jaket... a compliment to my tanned skin... but really! Canadians will swear its in homage to the loon… but ask any Canadian when the last time they saw a loon or even so much as know what it is and you’ll fully understand what I mean. It just makes me want to repeat the phrase “one flew over the cocoo’s nest” over and over and over again.. not because it makes any particular sense but just because I like the way it sounds out loud… If anything there should be a tribute to the geese.. there are so many of them casually roaming the streets and parks of Toronto. So many they could form a union...I can't help but be a little creeped out by them. Think about it... all it really takes for things to get ugly is a wrong look... a pissed off goose with a bad attitude and some friends around... and with all the stereotypes out there in relation to birdbrains no one would ever guess! It would be the perfect crime one that would never lead to any suspision...Hitchcock was soooo onto something! They just casually walk around in parks looking at you like... "did I invite u in? yes I’m rummaging through the garbage! do u mind? you're blocking the sun!".
I've gotta give it to them though... its hard to pull off all that grace and confidence when they're so low down on the food chain... but as the world turns.. lions are caged in zoos and lo and behold the geese are ruling suburbia.l... I bet if they had little cartoon bubbles popping up over their heads I’m sure they'd read things like "I am all that and a bag of chips!"
The thing I’ve noticed though is they've become so used to living in the city and mingling with the immigrant folk that they've grown a bit of arrogance... I mean there you are in the park on lunch just reading your book doing your own thing when one of them catches your eye and you look at them then inevitably take a look at your sandwich and think "hey maybe i should share" so they you throw a piece of your sandwich and they look at it and look at you and look at it again... and bloooop another bubble pops up "what do u think i am? A duck? feeding me toast? If its not buttered baguette then don't waste my time" And poof in an instant you've gone from the caring sensitive sharing human you are into this imbecile... and you catch yourself thinking... I'm so stupid how could that have slipped my mind... they're geese...they're of a different standard completely...
you laugh but I’m serious! they're influencing all sorts of high society... people with all sorts of power...
come the new year...
car manufacturers are looking for inspiration from nature to give to their demographic and all of a sudden goose poo green cars are the must haves of the season! course they don’t call it goose poo green they call it apple green.. and some where in the distance when the commercial is going off... u see a bubble pop up over the head goose's head and reads "Hey... we inspired that! we should be getting royalties!"and the union is meeting somewhere by a lake where some other poor shmuck is attempting to feed the geese crackers and the main bubble reads... " good work guys... we've gotta keep up the good pooping job... at the rate we're going maybe we can inspire the blue jays or the leafs to reconsider metallic goose poo green jerseys" and a not so bright goose will think " what about the raptors?" only to be snapped into reality by a slightly smarter goose who says "dude their jerseys are purple... in a city full of blue... its like convincing an avid Kmart shopper to buy a Fendi hand bag…there is just noooooo concept of style! But rest assured the gap will catch on and market scarves at$99.99 in the season's greatest color. You guessed it! majestic lime!" and soon we notice that the geese, with their" i am the cream of the crop with mentalities and the deep belief that thier tooo goood not to be recognized for it..." are all now smirking with smug pride... and bubbles everywhere read "we took a shit.. and they were inspired!"
ITS LOONIE I TELL YA LOOONIEEEEEE!

Lack of Drama

Sitting here at work completely blown away by how useless my education has been up until this point. I browse through other peoples blogs in the simple attempt not to stab myself slowly with a dull pencil just to prolong the suffering process. Someone once said "I hurt myself today to see if I still feel.. I focus on the pain the only thing that's real!" not just anyone.. Jonny Cash and later on Nine inch nails...I wonder if that theory is true at all? that as humans we need this jolt of something completely negative in our lives to make us realize that we'veve got it good. Think about it! when there is a disaster people become so much more spiritually and humanely intune. There's nothing like a serial killer on the streets to make an otherwise fragmented community stick together. Everyone watching out for everyone else... walking each other to their cars... doing all that's in their power to travel in groups. It's the same with earthquakes, avalanches floods and droughts.., for the brief while where havoc is wreaking its course and the media is covering the issue people across the globe connect. It is the means by which we remember that we are human. Insignificant in the scheme of the universe and not so indestructible after all! We seek meaning from intangibles... The car we drive and the price of our watch seem useless. We realize that no matter how smart a speciesas we are... we are not god... we are not mother nature... we are not the ultimate power.. and so we gather clothes and supplies and give them to those in need, we stretch every penny a little further just so we can donate.

Basically shit needs to hit the fan so that we can smell the stink and see the mess before we realize..oh wait...I like things this way! The lack of drama is a blessing in disguise.

Ramblings at 3

I am Sandy’s inner voice. I am the sound of illogic and reason. I am her id suppressed by her ego and superego. I am what makes her angry and what makes her smile. I am the tears fueled by her in ability to make things right… I am the worry… I am the need… I am what can not be complete… I am the basics of her existence… I am hunger… I am sleep…. I am shallow not to deep…

The world and its forces

The World aspires against you in the most profound ways...... sometimes all that is in your power is to either take it with a grain of salt and smile or wallow in self pity. Today i choose self pity.

John Sez it Best

Mayer has managed to do it again! masterfully identify and capture feelings and translate them into words.. The song speaks for itself and refelects my mood perfectly. I must have listend to it a minimum of 10 times today.

I'm not alone...
I wish i was...
cuz then i'd know I was down because I couldnt find a friend around
to love me like they do right now

they do right now

I'm dizzy from the shopping mall
I searched for the joy
bought it all...
it doesn't help
the hunger pains
and the thrist i'd have to drown out first to ever satiate

somethings missing and i dont know how to fix it..
and i dont know what it is

when autum comes it doesn't ask..
it just walks in where it left u last.
you never know when it starts
until theres a fog inside the glass of your summer heart

Somethings missing and i dont know how to fix it.
Somethings missing...
and i dont know what it is at all...

I can't be sure that this state of mind is not of my own design
I wish there was an over the counter test for lonlieness
for lonliness like this...

Somethings Missing
And i dont know how to fix it
Something's missing and i dont know what it is...
Something's different...
I dont know what it is

Friends..... check.....
Money..... check....
well slept.... check...

why do i always feel like what i need comes with batteries?
....
Somethingsssss missing...