Then and now and now and then

The satiating quench after the drought of thirst.


An illuminating Epiphany after the hollow of barren thought.


The quiet before the storm



The bliss of before in a lonely room of after

"Our world of only Humans , a world without Humanity." ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Sacré Blue!

Hoshi: Please introduce yourselves, tell us about where you work, your academic background and why you're here.

Me: My Name is Sandy, I graduated from U of T

I hear eclectic swooshes from heads turning to look in my direction. They're listening intently.

Me: I studied IT, Logic and philosophy
Gasp!

Me: I am currently working for the government
Stress Stress Stress in their eyes.

Me: And after 3 years of being out of school I just up and decided it was time to use my brain again. So here I am
Comfortable laughter mixed with confusion.

Why do the words UofT, IT ,Logic and philosophy combined have this effect on people? Confused and a little uncomfortable.
Come to think of it... people are always confused when those words come out of my mouth.
Pedro the Peruvian refuge raised in Guatemala illegally residing in Canada actually started to laugh as he nudged my shoulder with his elbow and said in his amicable accent "No really what did you go to school for?"
After yesterday I think I've figured it all out.
I'm the underachiever everyone always thought would overachieve. Rotting away at an age way too early to be rotting away at people can’t put two and two together. Its almost like I’ve been given the tools to save bloated tummied kids somewhere in Somalia but chose to make paperclip chains instead. Lovely isn’t it? Tis my destiny or my fate whatever suits your fancy. I’ve accepted and almost come to terms with it. Why won’t everyone else?

Big Mac Nation and Obesity beware

Oxyntomodulin is apparently the want to exercise in an injection. how convenient? It suppresses appetite and is less commonly found in heavier people. Diabetics take insulin and overweight people take this difficult to pronounce hormone. Reading about this “new discovery” makes me realize just how palpably complicated we are. I mean seriously, Silly me. Here I was thinking that the astounding amount of DNA packed into a tiny grain of wheat germ was by far the worlds most astonishingly amusing discovery. How these scientists can be witness to all this complexity and still not believe in God is far beyond my comprehension. It should be interesting to see how the hormone's marketing and prospective large capital generation pans out. Someone somewhere is going to get rich. For a little while anyway.I’m certain that Ephedra was looking just as sexy when it came out with its promise to increase heart rates and help all those looking to shed a few extra pounds. What strikes me as interesting with this one though is that it is already naturally the body’s appetite suppressant. I suppose what doctors will aspire to do is simply help the pituitary produce or release more of the hormone into the body.

Cap ou pas cap?

Rarely am I disappointed in foreign films. They are entirely different than what I’ve been conditioned to expect. This "Romantic comedy" is superb. The plot doesn't follow the run of the mill boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl. I like that it really plays up the idea that people who are in love play games. They say one thing and mean another. They're confused and often in the course of their arrival at the decision to be with their "beloved" cause unimaginable anguish to all involved. The games are all consuming and soon it becomes nothing more than a desire to win. Humans we're awful! we are the scum of the scum. give us a taste of power, even when it comes to emotions, and we aim to recreate that control all the time. we hurt those we love the most and almost always expect that they'll endure. It's everywhere. Teenagers screaming at fathers, Mothers at their kids, husbands at wives. “All in the name of love”. Even terrorists against their own governments and the killings of hundreds of country men. But “what more in the name of love?”

Such a powerful word, defined differently to each of us.

Are pain, anger, sabotage, confusion, jealousy and animosity love's necessary evil?

"And as you move on,
remember me, Remember us
and all we used to be" ~ James Blunt

For Deenz

I made a trip to the video store last night, pronounced plack bastard by a certain not so fresh off the boat Egyptian daddy. There is something intrinsically soothing associated with walking the isles contemplating, analyzing, assessing, and concluding what to rent. You first conduct a personal aura reading of sorts to determine what kind of a general mood you’re in…an airy light or soulfully deep. You weave yourself back and forth through the tapestry of the isles while appraising the vibrant colors of the slim tiny DVD cases. It is a slow soul searching experience where you attempt to find a merger that will adhere between what you want to feel and the availability of that emotion on a diskette. You browse and browse and browse some more. Each catchy title personifies a resonating whisper in your mind. It is through their guidance that you arrive at this state of self understanding. You peruse each synopsis that is worthy of a little more attention than the rest and tactfully steer yourself in the direction that best suits your rejuvenated sense of self discovery. You hone in on a target unknown till it is identified. You pick it up and continue to survey the competition… the same grueling process brings another worthy cause to your attention… This by far, the hardest part of it all… If only they could talk back… The glaring spot light of an interrogation room lined with one way mirrors would come into good use right about now…. As a bead of sweat begins to form on the side of your forehead a friendly uniformed representative voice breaks the silence… and time no longer stands still. “Excellent choices! A thoroughly tough decision though” Rampant thoughts race across your mind sending you in a spinning daze…”I don’t know this person… they don’t know me…They’re giving me movie advise.. I should take it… wait a minute…can I trust them? I like them both… I want them both…I have time to watch both… they’re on special… I have in store credit….there is no excuse”
You pause and in hale wanting to regain the calm and control.
Exhale
“you’re right… why not”
Euphoria kicks in. A decision well made. An inner conflict resolved. A battle contained.
Overwhelmed with glee and anticipation you head to the check out counter and proclaim your self triumphant in your conquest.

Plack Bastard

Once upon a long long time ago...

X: we’ll take my car cool? My dad isn’t using it and I feel like driving... lemme just tell him we’re heading out so he doesn’t worry.

Me: Yeah sure do your thing…

X: walks half way to the kitchen and yells "Dad… Sand-E n I are heading to Block Buster we’ll be back in a bit."

Egyptian Daddy: "X! which one? I didn’t know u knew any…"

X: "right round the corner dad.. we’ll be back in 15 mins.. masafet il sikka.." (be back in a jiffy)

Egyptian Daddy: "tab w lazmito 2h delwa2ty ya3ni manty ma3 sa7bitik ib2y ro7ilo wa2t tany." (and why do u need to go now? Your friend is with you... why don't you go a different time?)

X: "well no dad I wanna go now... block buster awaits."

Egytian Daddy: "ALLAH! 3eeb! ana masik nafsy w mish 3ayez 2aza3a2 2odam sa7bitik hina bas 2h tare2it il kalam wel alfaz deh?( allah! That’s rude!… I’ve been holding back and don't want to yell because your friend is here but whats with the way you're talking and why such language?

X: "huh?" thinking… *WTF?! Is he off his meds again?!*

Egyptian Daddy: “3amala te2oly plack bastard plack bastard wana saket… bas Kaman ray7a te2ably w ma3 sa7bitik?! MISH 3eeb?“ (you keep saying plack bastard plack bastard and I ignored it but now you say you want to go meet him with your friend?!?)

Me: standing at the end of the hallway looking at X’s sincere attempt to hold it all in… “La2 ya uncle mana 2oltilha malhash lazma… 2i7na hanroo7 ne2agar film ba3d izn 7adretak” (well no uncle, I suggested that there’s no need for that so we’ll go rent a movie with your permission of course)

Egyptian Daddy: "2aywa kidda…Rabena yetaminik ya benty… 3a2aleha 3ashan khatry… "(yeah thats it..you’ve put me at ease darling, please talk some sense into her)

On Art...

"The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection."~Rumi

"Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment."~Monet

"You can't be at the pole and the equator at the same time. You must choose your own line, as I hope to do, and it will probably be color."~Van Gogh

"Seek the strongest color effect possible.. the content is of no importance."~Mattise

Egyptian Mr. Photgenic

Poor Mohamed Osman... Despite his Huge Blogger following isn't in the top 4...
Surprise Surprise... I wonder how he'd have done with the ladies...

More on the Driving Debate

A little more thought about the whole stats Canada/driving thing brought me to this:
In order to assume that women are the safer drivers an accident/km traveled rate would have to come up in women’s favor. Insurance companies here give women a lower rate based on that data.

The down fall however, is stretching that data to allow for the statement women are the “better” drivers. I think at that point a clear definition of what better entails would have to be set forth. I mean if you are basing the definition solely on crash rates then it’s fair to say women rock. Any sane person wouldn’t be satisfied with that though… the word better generally has a holistic encompassing notion attached to it. That means that hesitation, speed, courage and road intelligence would have to be taken into consideration and come out in the females' favor. It’s quite the tricky subject.

Anyways enough about that... find out how good ur gaming/parking skills are

War of the roses AKA sexes

Bono’s Raspy voice blares out “One Love” I’m so happy to be out of the office and completley engulfed when Crazy Nice dude starts honking his horn like no tomorrow. He is flailing his arms in the air and I can’t really make any sense of it. There is no one behind me… I haven’t cut him off and I see no reason for him to ruin the debauchery associated with my favorite song. I ignore him and drive on only to find some other random woman screaming something in audible at me. I’m a patient woman but this had gone too far… I can see the need to be in a good mood cuz of the sunshine and all but really, why won’t they just let me enjoy the song.. So I roll down my window ready to tell dudette off… when I realize that her face is really really really red from, I assume all the yelling she’s been doing. Caught off guard I wait to see what she has to say
Pause… Pause… Pause…
“ You forgot to put the cap on your gas tank dumb ass!”
A good Samaritan at heart what could I have possibly said to the woman. I think…she’s obviously got sunstroke... I smile casually and say “thank you”. I’m about to dismiss her loco ass but it dawns on me that perhaps I should look out my window just to make sure.
“ARGH!” I was perfectly happy with crazy woman when she was just yanking my chain… why did she have to go and be right?
I’d filled up gas and in my hurry to make it back to work on time just simply forgot to put the cap back on all together… You must see that it takes a “special kind of person” to do this. Most people forget just the door to the gas tank open but no not me I forgotten both the actual lid itself and the door open. Some kind of friction or a spark could have made for more than singed eyebrows!

Anyways…No biggy no one was injured expect my self respect and pride maybe…
It brought me back to a passionate conversation Deenz and I had about how women drivers are the worst with a few exceptions. Deenz was horrified at my blatant subscription to stereotypes who she said were created by none other than zee males. I thought I had a well rounded argument. I could not make bold sweeping arguments but I claimed that I could judge based on my limited experience. Count the number of stupid moves in a real world scenario and you’ll see that most of them are caused by women. They’re a lot less aggressive. They’re often over taken and usually hesitate. But it is precisely that stereotype that feeds the fire Deenz explained. If you are a woman and you buy into it why shouldn’t the males? Does a kid who is solely picked on at school by a Tibetan monk have the right to say that they’re all violent people? Deenz was right on some level and defending my point of view was a little tricky when I’ve got no proof. Up until recently statistics measuring this sort of thing ruled in D’s favor. Statistics measured number of fatalities with respect to gender. Males were more involved in fatal accidents than were women. And so a conclusion based on evidence shows that women are the better drivers.

The flaw in all this however is that, I think men might drive way more than women, So the comparison doesn’t hold unless you compare the number of fatalities on a per km/mile basis. Stats Canada says that there is approximately 49% female drivers and 51 % male drivers and it tells you the number of accidents per gender but no where does it say how many trips are made or how many km are made by each gender.
The data in my opinion is misunderstood. If i've learnt nothing from my philosophy and logic days i know this much is true: you can mold and shape data findings to support any philosophical theory. I can’t find statistics on Stats Canada to support my point of view only because the data does not capture what it is that i want it to capture...So a bold statment on my part about all this would technically make my argument just as faulty...
I did however find this out dated article and though the source may be unreliable it is interesting none the less. If there is anyone out there that might know a thing or two about statistics and can be of any assistance please ring my bell.

bits and pieces of trivia

During his entire life, Vincent Van Gogh sold exactly one painting, Red Vineyard at Arles.

Did you know that the world vanilla comes from the Latin word vagina because of the vanilla pod’s resemblance to the female genitalia.

A language becomes extinct in this world every two weeks.

The male pig has a corkscrew shaped penis that looks like his tail. And he slowly winds into the female pig before reaching a 10 minute orgasim.

Caterpillar means "hairy cat" in Old French

Mona Lisa has no eyebrows in Leonardo da Vinci's painting. During that time, a woman was considered more beautiful if she shaved her eyebrows.

TIME magazine's Man of the Year for 1982 was the computer

The dot that appears over the letter "i" is called a tittle.

The little circles of paper that are cut out after a paper has been punched by a hole puncher are called "chad."

The pound key (#) on the keyboard is called an octothorpe.

The word "toy" comes from an old English word that means "tool."

The word Spain means "the land of rabbits."

There was no punctuation until the 15th century.

Albert Einstein was offered the presidency of Israel in 1952, but he declined.

Leonardo da Vinci was dyslexic, and he often wrote backwards

People who study laughter are called a "gelotologists."

The most senior crayon maker Emerson Moser retired after making 1.4 billion crayons for Crayola. It was then that he revealed that he was actually colorblind.

The political philosopher Karl Marx used to write articles for the New York Tribune in the early 1850's

First Impressions

You ever meet someone under the wrong circumstance and just completely know you’ve misrepresented yourself?
You interact and exchange ideas or thoughts on a superficial level that left to perception could completely make you seem like an entirely different person. And I suppose one should have the confidence to know that the world’s validation or lack off, doesn’t necessarily qualify or disqualify him/her from the “worthwhile/time well spent in their company” label but, it’s completely frustrating none the less. It leaves you feeling like a victim of sorts. Like you’re being accused for a crime you did not commit. A crime where you’re forced to walk in the cloaks of a false pre-empted disposition.

Walking a day in someone else's shoes

Walking a day in someone else’s shoes always seemed like a piece of cake; different perspectives were so my game.

Why am I finding it hard to decide where to draw the line between understanding and loosing myself?
How often must I accommodate?
How many times must I suppress the frustration?
How many excuses can I conjure up?
The logistics are there… Something isn’t.
What though…
... what?
It shouldn’t be this hard and it most certainly shouldn’t be this draining.
It’s entirely unfair to more than just me.

I don’t want a quick fix…
I don’t want the million pieces super glued together in an attempt to resemble a notion in my head.
I want things to fall and land on their feet.
I want 9 lives.
I want truth… not a water downed version of it… not clippings of it but the whole celluloid reel.
I want butterflies and pink skies.
I want exposition without an unveiling.
I want fireworks without the show and most of all I want chemistry without the smoke.

Lazy Sundays

I sleep in just long enough to be kissed by the sun that pours into my room. The thought of knowing that I could just lay there for as long as I please is up there on the charts only to be outranked by a gazillion and 10 kisses.
Breakfast at breakfast time… truly priceless. The company and mindless, but ohhhh so comfortable, chatter is what makes the fruit taste just that much sweeter and the tea that much more soothing. The sights and sounds of the city accompanied by casual strolling and more chit chat only add to the ladi da di da di da of it all. A quick swing by the park where the kids are running and out of breath to get somewhere in a hurry chased by the need to release energy make for excellent snapshots. Conquering the monkey bars makes them the kings of their castle, a colossal triumph on a mini scale. My granny’s inexplicably contagious laughter and the cool sweet succulent watermelon are only the beginnings of my euphoric high. 13 rounds of estimation in the kitchen, Med-school battling digital villains on his game boy, mum playing with Sarah’s hair as she lays on her lap and watches a muted Dora the explorer and a philosophical conversation in the back ground about politics intermingled with the wonderfully intoxicating chill sound of jack Johnson are what draw a smile on my face. This is what Sundays are about!

...

Self expression is what satiates the pseudo starving artist's soul!

The whimsy of the self proclaimed invincible

An email goes out to all staff from the director with the subject line “sad news”
I open the email anticipating the usual shrapnel of bad news. A grandmother that’s slipped away in the hush of night or an infant born still to an anxiously expecting couple.
This time the news hits me hard… my throat clumps up… my heart aches and a tear finds its way to the corner of my mouth.

People looked at Mary V with eyes filled with green envy. She was young, beautiful, happily married and after trying for what seemed to be an eternity she finally became a mother. As many on lookers secretly wished they had her life she climbed the beaurocratic ladder and all the while somehow managed to remain grounded. Within the span of seconds I got flash backs to conversations we’d had about her husband playing with their baby. How he was so good with her… how he was soooo careful when he brushed her hair. I remembered thoughts I’d had about her when I heard she got promoted. “It must be nice to be one of those women that are in command of their lives… The go getters… The ones that carry themselves like they know what they’re talking about even if they don’t… Women whose demeanor commands respect...” I remember thinking her life must be perfect right here and now. She must be happy…

How I sincerely hope she was….

Because as of the second she received that news…
As of that moment when time stood still…
happiness became a thing of the past for Mary V.
Happiness now nothing more than a word… a rumor… an illusion for years to come….

Death…
A slap across the face that shakes off the whimsy of the self proclaimed invincible.

We often forget just how temporary we are and we get caught up in the little things… the things that don’t matter on a grander scale.

Mary V… She once had it all… today… she lost a big chunk of it..
A husband pronounced dead at the sight of the accident.
Thoughts swirled in my head…

"Her 3 year old daughter will never know her father... She won’t be able to run and hug his leg screaming “daddy is home… daddy is home!” after work…She’ll never get to beg him to play for just 5 more minutes on the swings… She won’t get to kiss him good bye on her first day of school or have him question her first date…. She won’t get him to give her money to buy the shoes her mother said were too expensive and she wont get to go car shopping with him when she turns 16…she won’t get to see him stand with his head held high and chest broadened as he claps proudly when they call her name at graduation…. She won’t have him to give her away at her wedding and she won’t have him to teach her children how the world was before they were born… not only that but she won’t even have him in her memories…. She’s too young to have created any or held on to any… she won’t have him… not cognitively, physically or emotionally… She just won’t have him.”

How Mary V will gather the strength to take this poor child to day care while drenched with the cloaks of sadness is beyond me. How she will manage to remain positive despite the circumstances or go on to lead a normal life ever again is a mystery.
I say normal but even normal is too big a word…
How will she be able to carry on the bare basics? The bare minimums?
How will she manage to breathe again…
Eat again….
or even sleep again….

I imagine she’s lost sense of time and is now in an abyss of numbness. A place where she can’t stop crying but must… Loosing a partner like that… so soon and so suddenly… so early…

Unfathomable.

I pray for Mary V.
I pray that the sadness won’t break her and overcome her spirit.
I pray for her...
... and shed another tear.

Apparently Canada’s peace keeping reputation is legitimate.

“Because of the conflict over control of Jerusalem between Israelis and Palestinians, immigrants to Canada who were born in Jerusalem are issued passports that have only the city listed as their birthplace, without any reference to a country.”

Sudafed & the Orgy Fest

There’s a lot in the news about drugs these days. Sudafed and its contribution to the production of crystal meth and more importantly the greater effect of amphetamines on men as opposed to women. Could this be why they claim their not as moody? Stimulate the “pleasure centre” in the brain and it becomes a little difficult to be depressed No? And here we are thinking chocolate ice-cream makes all our worries disappear.... They’ve just been hogging the good stuff! The more I read about this stuff the more I’m fascinated with how complex we are. I think if we ever really fully understood how everything worked we’d be a lost cause. I mean who would have “thunk” we’d barely scratch the surface of understanding how the brain works and all of a sudden we’re inventing drugs to inhibit and manipulate them.
Take ecstacy for example. Also called XTC, MDMA Adam, Beans, Biscuits, Bombs, Candy, E, E-Bombs, Eccies, Eileen, Googs, Irene (in East Asia), Jack and Jills, Junnov (in East Europe), "Kissing Potion", MaDMAn, Mollies, Pills, Rolls, Scoobies, Smarties, Tabs, Thizz, Vitamin E, Vitamin X, Yaotou (in East Asia), and Yokes.
It’s a prolific example of people dabbling and playing with the idea of overriding the brains natural controls.
I suppose a brief description of how I understand the process is in order… Neurons are a major class of cells in the nervous system. The best way to picture them is a tree and its roots only these roots are very closely positioned to the roots of a different tree. Our brain sends signals from the tip of one neuron (root in our analogy) to another via neurotransmitters. These Neurotransmitters are basically mini messengers that travel from one tip of neuron to the next. Each neurotransmitter has a function. Serotonin and Dopamine are two such transmitters and what E basically does is both numbs and blocks the neurons so that the spaces between them are flooded with these neurotransmitters. Since Serotonin is considered responsible for the regulation of mood, sleep, emesis sexuality, and appetite it becomes abundantly clear that a lot of that stuff floating around in the brain is bound to heighten all those feelings. Now Dopamine is an important neurotransmitter because a lack of it can affect motor functions, memory, attention and problem solving skills, in women it controls the release of prolactin which stimulates mammary glands to produce milk… the wonderful thing about prolactin is that it is a natural contraceptive. It is said to be more than 90% effective in the first month of post partum. Now with that said… Just think… A drug that makes you more sexually expressive, less inhibited and in a better mood… all the while reducing your memory, attention span, problem solving skills and ability to get pregnant sounds like a drug for what? A big orgy party! Not only that… but a big orgy party with a hidden male agenda in mind. Very Sneaky Men… But I’m ONTO YOU!

NIN and the downward spiral

I get up 15 minutes late this morning… wash up get dressed…search high and low for my left shoe for what seems to be an eternity… but just as I was about to give up and put on another pair I find that it was right in front of me all along. I rush like crazy into the kitchen to get some toast and get it all cream cheesed up(breakfast is after all the most important meal of the day) but add sugar instead of salt…I think meh… its not that much of a big deal… so it’s a little sugary… then I trip on the mat on my front door but luckily break my fall by grabbing onto the railing… and just I’m about to smugly smile at the gods of colossally bad Mondays… I find that I’ve placed my palm on some form of bird excrement. I get to work only to figure out that I’ve left my security pass at home which means no access to any work till I get my keys… And all this is fine… just a rough start to the day BUT WHEN TRENT REZNOR STARTS singing
“You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become?”
I know that I’ve pissed someone off somewhere and that all this is BAD KARMA COME ROUND TO BITE ME IN THE ASS! Is it even humanly possible to have all this bad luck in the span of an hour? DAMNNNnnnnnnnnnn!

Parap pa pa para I'm lovin it!

Because i have a picture frame fetish and was literally shoved out of blacks and away from the umbra frames... I decided, they can stop me from buying frames but by god they will not keep me from posting pictures! And though my first instinct was to post all these insanely disturbing pictures of said friend one and said friend two..I had an epiphany and it went something like "ily beeto ma3mool bel 2izazz... should stick to softer squishier materials like playdough" This is no place for a wannabe tifl il 7egara... And so I've saved the toob and zalat (rocks and pebbles) for a more worthy occasion... I will however tell the world why my last trip to Egypt was so amusing!


1) Koshary 3 times a day will definitely keep the doctor away! A mix of rice, pasta and lentil topped with salsa and fried onions... At the low low price of 3 pounds you can't go wrong!





2) Photos of mo3ammar gathafy and signs like this are what make juice bars a cut above the rest and give them a marketing edge.




3) I discovered that not only does "rear-end Egyptian" not discriminate between men and women but also comes in handy for the shik shak shok syndrome.


4) Though she's been around for centuries.. Dabdooba il tekhena is looking good and continues to frolic and play with youngens.

5) For the right price fer2it 7asabala will serenade/rush u to come down for waiting friends(little kid in jeans is actually called 7asabala ibn 7asabala)

6) A war waged for the last Authentic Dorito is a genuine legitimate cause.



7) Salad Dressing in a cup makes what? Whiskey!

8) Signs like these are a dime a dozen!

New Frontiers

Note to self: Explore the other side of the bed

Ma 3ayeb ila mabtala? Aka What goes around comes around

What if I've become one of those people that just likes the look of their font/the sound of their own voice?

What are your words for love?

Cinimini and I were discussing the over use of the words I love you among Arabs. I was telling her that from what I know which is not a whole lot… the word ba7ibik is usually just casually thrown out there to mean I like you. I went home and to bed and that was the end of that… But this morning a friend told me that Hamza yousif once spent 45 minutes at a lecture on the words used to describe the different levels of love in the Arabic language. With that…off I went to edumacate myself. I stumbled on an article in the daily star that pointed out an interesting but often overlooked fact.

“Antonyms in Arabic are a strange phenomenon. There is a whole category of words
that mean one thing as well as its opposite. For example, the word, "saleem,"
means the one who is cured as well as the one who has just been bit by a snake.
The word baseer, means one with great sight and insight, but also means blind.
Mawla means master and slave and wala means to follow and to lead, The word
umma, which is usually translated as nation, means the entity that is followed,
or the guide, as well as the entity that follows and is guided.”

The more I thought about it the more I realized that it was a lack of creativity that was pushing people to talk this way. The article claims that “love has 77 names, each of which has a slight but crucial difference from the other.”

“Hawa means light liking but also transfers an element of error,
bias and
irrationality. As the old pre-Islamic proverb goes: "Hawa is
the downside of
reason."
Then you have ishq, which comes from
entanglement, like two pieces
of wood and ivory in a work of arabesque, the
two lovers are inseparable yet
still independent and distinct. Then
there is hayam, which comes from
wondering thirsty in the desert, and fitna,
which means love, infatuation,
passionate desire, but also means civil war
and illusion. There is izaz, which
is the kind of love that gives both
lovers power and dignity, and sakan, which
also means home and tranquility,
the Quran uses this word to describe the
relation between married couples.
The highest stage of love is, paradoxically,
fanaa, which means
non-existence. This is the stage where the lovers lose their
independent
existences and actually become one another. This stage is usually
used by
Sufis in reference to divine love and the unity of existence.”

Why then are people using these words to mean things they don’t? And what are all the other words? I say lets make a list… help me out…the ones I know are
1) 7ob
2) 3esh2
3) Gharam
4) Hayam
5) I3gab
6) Shaghaf—>brought to me by cerise
7) Hawa

A must read!

This book is by far the most bizzare thing i've read yet!
I love the randomness and the fact that you dont have to concentrate for long periods of time.

Before night falls

People that make art are dangerous to any dictatorship
Artists are counter revolutionary
And so you are a counter revolutionary ~ spoken to Reinaldo Arenas in

Let the chips fall where they may

So i'm doing a little house keeping and I stumble on all this stuff I'd written ages ago...
And though i'm not entirely weird about sharing my writing with the world...
I do share with very few...
And today I thought... what the heck... Unleash the lion... let the chips fall where they may
and see what comes of it...
So.. I've placed them here for Zee world to see... Aphrodisiac, Amore and Unfinished business.
Problem is once this sort of thing becomes public its no longer in my controll and hence
my slight uncomfort with it all.. but alas nothing ventured nothing gained...soo do let me know what you think....

Aphrodisiac

It’s that time again… I haven’t felt the urges this strong since I last got some. Just the thought of it alone sends shivers down my spine. I try not to think of how satisfied I was the last time.
I try to forget the unsurpassed sense of pleasure.
I try to forget how unbelievably addicted I was to it.
I try to erase the memories of my rhythmic breathing coupled with the sudden change in temperature.
I try to forget the sense of chaos that wrapped its arms around me from within.
I try to forget the momentary high and try to eliminate any remnants of guilt. The fact of the matter is I am in a state of barbaric hunger. I long for it to touch my tongue and excite its every inch from its core right to its tip. I long to keep it in my mouth until one of us melts with inexplicable delight. I long to make it a part of me. And above all I long for the dance… my eyes on it burning with desire. The air of certainty that surrounds the situation... The tautological truth of necessary fulfilment… my mouth slowly but surely getting wet at the thought of its grand entrance. The way it looks back at me with a tantalising peaceful calmness almost as though it is capable of reading my every thought. It has stimulated my eyes with its grandiose rich presence and my tongue with its perfect form. And in the midst of all this I wonder if having it on my tongue brings it as much ecstasy and eroticism as it brings me…
Regardless…

this is the be all..
The end all…
The crème of the crop..

I surrender and do only what is within my power to do..
I engulf it whole.
And as I swallow the crazy rapid thoughts that had just passed through my mind take over me and force me to do it again
And again…
And again…
And…
Again…
with each new encounter I am faced with more heavenly bliss than the time before.
I only stop when I have exhausted its capability to give me sweet pleasure. It is a shame that this usually occurs when the container is empty..
oh how I love my Baskin Robins pralines ice-cream.

Unfinished business

We so often place our happiness in other people’s hands
We negate our emotions, erase our smiles and let our hope evaporate like water in desert lands

Our personal objectivity is ever so easily replaced by the present day norm
We start to question our logic in an attempt to mould our mentality into the unattainable perfect form

Yes it is granted personal growth only comes with the re-evaluation of friendship, mindset and personal theory
But it seems, that this action, taken to an extreme can result in a world that’s far too dreary

Innovation, ingenuity and originality aren’t words that apply to the masses
They describe those who dare to challenge colloquialism, whose mentality rises above prejudice and surpasses

Motivation to do things in life shouldn’t come from the response you get from others
But the feeling of satisfaction you get about yourself, the notion that makes your heart beat in flutters

The thought that you’ve pushed your limits just a little more past the line
Something that undoubtedly, through an increase in experience makes you more refined

Pushing the envelope toward open mindedness and scholarly thoughtIs a priceless phenomenon that can’t be sold or bought.

...
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Amore

How do you get what you imagine down on paper?
Sculpting and molding expressions, you become a creator

How do you orchestrate in words the symphony of love?
Each note a part of a rhythm that fits into a melody like the perfect glove.

An epiphany of emotion, an energy most divine
That radiates throughout without borders or lines.

A love so beautiful it would make angels cry
Powerful enough to make the largest and deepest of oceans dry.

A love so passionate, from which you’d never tire
A desire and yearning that burns with in you like the most temperate fire.

A love that makes the world go round
And makes the ordinary feel like a king being crowned.

A love that makes the uneducated feel smart
As though they’ve stumbled on an emotion that feels like an art.

But is my optimism and enthusiasm well deserved?
Or will the path of love seem entirely different once traversed?

Is it like the theory of forms abstract in my mind?
The real life version, impossible to find?

This vision of love is extremely perfect and trueBut is there a tangible real life version? Or perhaps two?

If you want it bad enough...

If you want it bad enough
you'll do what it takes they tell you...
but really… what does that mean you’ll do?
you'll bust out the magnifying glass and let the sun burn the ants bringing them to a slow and a painful death....
you'll sleep with the cancer patient's wife
and sell placebos to the people at UNICEF
you'll pass on the herpes baggage from on abusive relationship to the next
you'll spike the punch at the AA meetings
and you'll support gorilla war fare not because you give a crap but because they promised you a piece of the cake
You’ll invite a wrongly accused woman’s only daughter to her execution
you'll water down the milk you sell at the mothers living with HIV stand
and to the person who listens best, and loves u most you’ll mutter the words I love you to get into their pants.
You’ll belittle a man begging for change with shame in his eyes
And you’ll beat a grown man to the ground till he cries
And above all….you'll leave morale behind...
and if you truly want it bad enough...
you'll do it with a smile