Showing posts with label emotional. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotional. Show all posts

Saturday, February 27, 2010

The Rasmus - Shot




Tonight we escape
just you and me
we'll find our peace
somewhere across the seas?

enough of the fright
enough of the fuss
I'll be awake if he finds us
needless to say
I'll stand in your way
I will protect you
and I...

I'll take the shot for you
I'll be the shield for you
needless to say
I'll stand in your way
I'll take the shot for you
I'll give my life for you
I'll make it stop
I'll take the shot for you
for you

tonight we'll be free
I'll find us a home?
tonight we will be
finally on our own

enough of the hell
enough of the pain
I won't let him touch you
I love you
needless to say
I'll stand in your way
I will defend you
and I'll....

I'll take the...

enough of the scars
enough broken hearts
I will protect you
and I..

I'll take the shot
I'll make it stop

I'll make it stop
I'll take the shot

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Night After Night - The Rasmus



Heaven sent you
To bring the answer
Heaven sent you
To cure this cancer

For a moment
Unbeatable chance
For a moment
The world in my hands

Like an angel you came
Every time when I prayed
Guardian of my dreams
Watching me when I sleep
Like an angel you came
Every time when I screamed

Time after time, I lose again
Night after night I wake up
shaking 'cause my world is breaking
Im fool enough to fall again
Night after Night, I wake up
crying 'cause I feel like dying

Still disconnected
And unprotected
Still Im haunted
But unwanted

For a moment
Unbreakable stars
For moment
You stayed in my arms

Like an angel you came
Every time when I prayed
Guardian of my dreams
Watching me when I sleep
Like an angel you came
Every time when I screamed

Time after time, I lose again
Night after night I wake up
shaking 'cause my world is breaking
Im fool enough to fall again
Night after Night, I wake up
crying 'cause I feel like dying

Time after time, I lose again
Night after night I wake up
shaking 'cause my world is breaking
Im fool enough to fall again
Night after Night, I wake up
crying 'cause I feel like dying

(Time after time I lose again)
Night after night I wake up shaking
'Cause my world is breaking
Fool enough to fall again (Fool enough to fall again)
Night after night I wake up crying
'Cause I feel like dying 


 

Sunday, December 6, 2009

I am addicted to حمص (Hummus)

TITLE: I am addicted to حمص

DATE: 11/14/2006 20:00:28





I am addicted to  Hummus حمص





I cant stop eating Hummus
عن جد... مش قادرة اوقف أكل حمص   ... بحبه بحبه
بموت في ربه


والله

شكرا يا رب على الحمص

Thank you God for the Hummus











 with olive oil زاكي مع زيت الزيتون


 and salt and lebon وملح ولمون


 and hot pita وكماج سخن

 



  and summak and cummin
وسماق وكمون

  and a fresh tomato وحبة بندورة



 






 and some olives مع شوية زتون






 God bless the Hummus يسعد رب الحمص





Sunday, September 27, 2009

You're so cold ...





"So Cold"

Crowded streets are cleared away
One by One
Hollow heroes separate
As they run

You're so cold
Keep your hand in mine
Wise men wonder while
Strong men die

[Chorus]

Show me how it ends it's alright
Show me how defenseless you really are
satisfied and empty inside
Well, that's alright, let's give this another try

If you find your family, don't you cry
In this land of make-believe, dead and dry

You're so cold, but you feel alive
Lay your hand on me one last time

[Chorus x2]

It's alright [x9]

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

So cold the night ...

Refrain 1:

I watch your window
I shake so scared
Spying from my room
With nervous unrest
Night after night your fingers
caressing
The skin that is so fair you slowly
undress

Chorus:
Soon we will be together
Until then so cold the night
Soon we will be together
Until then so cold the night

I know that you know that I'm here
each night
Watching and praying the time is now
right
For me to undress and caress you
Until then I'll just sit here and dream.

(chorus)
Cold the night, Cold the night

Soon my love
Soon my secret lover
Soon my love
Soon my secret lover
Soon my love
Soon my secret lover
Soon my lover

(refrain 1)

(chorus x2)
Cold the night (x6)
Ooh it's so cold without you
Cold the night (x6)



Wednesday, September 16, 2009

My Flower to Bush, the Occupier The Story of My Shoe By MUTADHAR al-ZAIDI

My Flower to Bush, the Occupier
The Story of My Shoe

By MUTADHAR al-ZAIDI

    Mutadhar al-Zaidi, the Iraqi who threw his shoe at George Bush gave this speech on his recent release.

In the name of God, the most gracious and most merciful.

Here I am, free. But my country is still a prisoner of war.

Firstly, I give my thanks and my regards to everyone who stood beside me, whether inside my country, in the Islamic world, in the free world. There has been a lot of talk about the action and about the person who took it, and about the hero and the heroic act, and the symbol and the symbolic act.

But, simply, I answer: What compelled me to confront is the injustice that befell my people, and how the occupation wanted to humiliate my homeland by putting it under its boot.

And how it wanted to crush the skulls of (the homeland's) sons under its boots, whether sheikhs, women, children or men. And during the past few years, more than a million martyrs fell by the bullets of the occupation and the country is now filled with more than 5 million orphans, a million widows and hundreds of thousands of maimed. And many millions of homeless because of displacement inside and outside the country.

We used to be a nation in which the Arab would share with the Turkman and the Kurd and the Assyrian and the Sabean and the Yazid his daily bread. And the Shiite would pray with the Sunni in one line. And the Muslim would celebrate with the Christian the birthday of Christ, may peace be upon him. And despite the fact that we shared hunger under sanctions for more than 10 years, for more than a decade.

Our patience and our solidarity did not make us forget the oppression. Until we were invaded by the illusion of liberation that some had. (The occupation) divided one brother from another, one neighbor from another, and the son from his uncle. It turned our homes into never-ending funeral tents. And our graveyards spread into parks and roadsides. It is a plague. It is the occupation that is killing us, that is violating the houses of worship and the sanctity of our homes and that is throwing thousands daily into makeshift prisons.

I am not a hero, and I admit that. But I have a point of view and I have a stance. It humiliated me to see my country humiliated. And to see my Baghdad burned. And my people being killed. Thousands of tragic pictures remained in my head, and this weighs on me every day and pushes me toward the righteous path, the path of confrontation, the path of rejecting injustice, deceit and duplicity. It deprived me of a good night's sleep.

Dozens, no, hundreds, of images of massacres that would turn the hair of a newborn white used to bring tears to my eyes and wound me. The scandal of Abu Ghraib. The massacre of Fallujah, Najaf, Haditha, Sadr City, Basra, Diyala, Mosul, Tal Afar, and every inch of our wounded land. In the past years, I traveled through my burning land and saw with my own eyes the pain of the victims, and hear with my own ears the screams of the bereaved and the orphans. And a feeling of shame haunted me like an ugly name because I was powerless.

And as soon as I finished my professional duties in reporting the daily tragedies of the Iraqis, and while I washed away the remains of the debris of the ruined Iraqi houses, or the traces of the blood of victims that stained my clothes, I would clench my teeth and make a pledge to our victims, a pledge of vengeance.

The opportunity came, and I took it.

I took it out of loyalty to every drop of innocent blood that has been shed through the occupation or because of it, every scream of a bereaved mother, every moan of an orphan, the sorrow of a rape victim, the teardrop of an orphan.

I say to those who reproach me: Do you know how many broken homes that shoe that I threw had entered because of the occupation? How many times it had trodden over the blood of innocent victims? And how many times it had entered homes in which free Iraqi women and their sanctity had been violated? Maybe that shoe was the appropriate response when all values were violated.

When I threw the shoe in the face of the criminal, Bush, I wanted to express my rejection of his lies, his occupation of my country, my rejection of his killing my people. My rejection of his plundering the wealth of my country, and destroying its infrastructure. And casting out its sons into a diaspora.

After six years of humiliation, of indignity, of killing and violations of sanctity, and desecration of houses of worship, the killer comes, boasting, bragging about victory and democracy. He came to say goodbye to his victims and wanted flowers in response.

Put simply, that was my flower to the occupier, and to all who are in league with him, whether by spreading lies or taking action, before the occupation or after.

I wanted to defend the honor of my profession and suppressed patriotism on the day the country was violated and its high honor lost. Some say: Why didn't he ask Bush an embarrassing question at the press conference, to shame him? And now I will answer you, journalists. How can I ask Bush when we were ordered to ask no questions before the press conference began, but only to cover the event. It was prohibited for any person to question Bush.

And in regard to professionalism: The professionalism mourned by some under the auspices of the occupation should not have a voice louder than the voice of patriotism. And if patriotism were to speak out, then professionalism should be allied with it.

I take this opportunity: If I have wronged journalism without intention, because of the professional embarrassment I caused the establishment, I wish to apologize to you for any embarrassment I may have caused those establishments. All that I meant to do was express with a living conscience the feelings of a citizen who sees his homeland desecrated every day.

History mentions many stories where professionalism was also compromised at the hands of American policymakers, whether in the assassination attempt against Fidel Castro by booby-trapping a TV camera that CIA agents posing as journalists from Cuban TV were carrying, or what they did in the Iraqi war by deceiving the general public about what was happening. And there are many other examples that I won't get into here.

But what I would like to call your attention to is that these suspicious agencies -- the American intelligence and its other agencies and those that follow them -- will not spare any effort to track me down (because I am) a rebel opposed to their occupation. They will try to kill me or neutralize me, and I call the attention of those who are close to me to the traps that these agencies will set up to capture or kill me in various ways, physically, socially or professionally.

And at the time that the Iraqi prime minister came out on satellite channels to say that he didn't sleep until he had checked in on my safety, and that I had found a bed and a blanket, even as he spoke I was being tortured with the most horrific methods: electric shocks, getting hit with cables, getting hit with metal rods, and all this in the backyard of the place where the press conference was held. And the conference was still going on and I could hear the voices of the people in it. And maybe they, too, could hear my screams and moans.

In the morning, I was left in the cold of winter, tied up after they soaked me in water at dawn. And I apologize for Mr. Maliki for keeping the truth from the people. I will speak later, giving names of the people who were involved in torturing me, and some of them were high-ranking officials in the government and in the army.

I didn't do this so my name would enter history or for material gains. All I wanted was to defend my country, and that is a legitimate cause confirmed by international laws and divine rights. I wanted to defend a country, an ancient civilization that has been desecrated, and I am sure that history -- especially in America -- will state how the American occupation was able to subjugate Iraq and Iraqis, until its submission.

They will boast about the deceit and the means they used in order to gain their objective. It is not strange, not much different from what happened to the Native Americans at the hands of colonialists. Here I say to them (the occupiers) and to all who follow their steps, and all those who support them and spoke up for their cause: Never.

Because we are a people who would rather die than face humiliation.

And, lastly, I say that I am independent. I am not a member of any politicalparty, something that was said during torture -- one time that I'm far-right, another that I'm a leftist. I am independent of any political party, and my future efforts will be in civil service to my people and to any who need it, without waging any political wars, as some said that I would.
My efforts will be toward providing care for widows and orphans, and all those whose lives were damaged by the occupation. I pray for mercy upon the souls of the martyrs who fell in wounded Iraq, and for shame upon those who occupied Iraq and everyone who assisted them in their abominable acts. And I pray for peace upon those who are in their graves, and those who are oppressed with the chains of imprisonment. And peace be upon you who are patient and looking to God for release.

And to my beloved country I say: If the night of injustice is prolonged, it will not stop the rising of a sun and it will be the sun of freedom.

One last word. I say to the government: It is a trust that I carry from my fellow detainees. They said, 'Muntadhar, if you get out, tell of our plight to the omnipotent powers' -- I know that only God is omnipotent and I pray to Him -- 'remind them that there are dozens, hundreds, of victims rotting in prisons because of an informant's word.'

They have been there for years, they have not been charged or tried.

They've only been snatched up from the streets and put into these prisons. And now, in front of you, and in the presence of God, I hope they can hear me or see me. I have now made good on my promise of reminding the government and the officials and the politicians to look into what's happening inside the prisons. The injustice that's caused by the delay in the judicial system.

Thank you. And may God's peace be upon you

Saturday, April 4, 2009

لمتى؟

لمتى حبك بَالحشا ساكن
وانتَ تِّمنع؟
لمتى روحي فؤادي فرحمتَك
وانتَ تِّدلع؟
يا قمر يالساكن بالسِما عالي
جيت اشتكيلك همّي والكدر
جيتك اشتكيلك وانِتْ أدرى بحالي
لوعتي عذابي بحُبَّك قَدَر
يا شامخٍ حِلْمُ وهيهاتِ تنطالي
يا بعد الحشا والروح والنظر
من يومٍ عرفتك سكنت بخيالي
إنسلِّ عودي وحالي تبدَّل
يا نجمةٍ تَلمع بالسما وتلالي
منك شحوبي ووضعي تِحَوَّل
أعياني سهدي وَالشوق يا سالي
بعد وجفا وصدود و ماقدر اتِّحَمل
مستوطنٍ بالذهن يا غالي
وما هقيت ذكري على بالك خطر
كيف انساك كيف انسى اللِيالي؟
كِلْ لحظةٍ في حضورك عُمُر
قربَك حياةْ وبعدك هلاكي
يا أغلى من اغلى الناس والبِشَر
أعياني الرّجا وذلّي وابتهالي
عْلامك قليبك اقسى من حجر؟
تسخر من تِشوف حرقتي ولا تبالي
وارجا قلبي الملتاع يصطبر
أضحيت الهدف وكل الآمال
ما اصدّق العيشة بعدك تستمر

I don't understand... you don't understand

I don't understand the laws of gravity on your planet
you don't understand why i don't understand
i don't understand why you cant understand why i don't understand

time and place failed,... an error happened
I was in my dimension
happy
an error happened
I turned into particles
and was transferred
here I am in your dimension
trying to figure out how your gravity works
here you can fall , in my planet you never fall
here it hurts when you fall , there you never fall

i don't understand why you laugh when you laugh
you don't understand why i cry when i cry
and i don't understand why you don't understand
and you don't understand why i don't understand why you don't understand
what make you laugh can make me cry
what makes me cry can make you laugh
and things fall..
i cant walk here, I'm not used to walking
there we float, we get to where we want to get by looking at it
here it takes time to get there
i cant understand the concept of something talking time
you don't understand why i cant understand
i don't understand how you understand what you understand

I cant hear your voice
i try to speak
my lips move and words come out
i cant hear them
you cant hear them
i see them floating
they are blown away by your wind
they spread over the universe .. and float
they are all over the place ... but invisible

an error happened
and I'm stuck in your dimension
and you don't understand why i cant cope with it
why i cant love it
you don't understand why i cant walk,
why i am so afraid of falling
why i cant hear you
you don't believe i cant understand your gravity
i don't understand why you cant believe
you don't understand that i cant understand
i cant understand why you cant understand

Sunday, March 29, 2009

'Unlove' poetry

pack up the memories
stick them in your suitcase
along with your promises
and lies...
the lying looks..
in your eyes
your hypocrisy
treason
beyond any reason
why did you appear
like a ghost
like a lie
I am to blame
Ah.. the loathing
The shame
why
did I ever
give it a try ?
a chance
for shit and romance
It is insane..
but I am to blame
I feel so small
immersed
in resentment
and shame
regret
what did I get..
nothing but
a waste of time
a handful of shit
I've been hit
yet again
no one's to blame
besides my twisted brain

والله
insane
pure madness
emotional paralysis
not even sadness
just pain
and more .. and more
and yet again

you asked if i love you
i said i do
you're dreaming …
if you believe ..
that someone like me
would ever fall for someone like you
no matter how lonely
desperate and blue
someone like me
would never ever fall for you

silence will be 
all that you
get from me

yes.. it is over, fool
we are done
you know you aren’t
the only one..
the only fool
actually it is me
who is the fool
but now i can
easily breathe
i can be ...
I can go back
to being me
now that you fucked off
now that you are
permanently gone

you killed me
so you died
why are you
so surprised?

i now vanish
i disappear..
i now dont exist
I’m not even here

the story was not impressive
only pathetic, sad, depressive..
abusive, hurtful, oppressive..

you were a cyst
now removed
left me numb
a frozen zombie
unmoved
i am not here
and you died
are you really
still surprised?

a few Haikus

dark clouds fill the sky
rain wets trees and streets
people shop
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
wet cat hides behind the tree
teacher teaches
music breaks the silence and fills the world
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dark green pine tree through the window
top branches reach to the sky
the rest spread in all directions
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mountains peak through clouds
a fly wanders on the window
fresh music of birds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Seagull stands on the electric pole
A Grey squirrel travels on the black wire
crispy new day
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time stands still as she plucks those harp strings
Her fingers become time and space
Everybody listens
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the sound of chewing
a pen dances on a paper leaving a trace of writing
music breaks the silence barrier
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Teacher teaches
everyone listens
mount fuji on the stick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
food boils in pots
the sound and smell of the ocean fills the air
beach cat appears with her love and beauty
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Raoul the greatest musician of all
his hands the scratch the beat the music the world
past present future me you and all is Raoul
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
silver red blue ocean
a couple of seagulls fighting in the air
laughs of women from far away
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
rosy cheeks bright eyes listen
roshi teaches
the couple melt in the music
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
perfect imperfection
a wise man teaches
Everything Everyone everytime shinzan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a branch outside framed by a window on grey canvas
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winds violently rock tree branches
Streets covered with a palette of leaves
A great symphony of chaos
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PLUM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
drops drip off the needles of a pine tree
wet dark mother's womb
winter makes its grand entrance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
days dark nights bright
Then the world became a crow
Colorful lights dance on the black road
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Children dance like popcorn kernels
The crazy river sweeps away logs and life
Collectively Fish go home to die
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Playing with colors
Rain falls down violently drowning the streets
The book speaks aloud
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
extreme ebb leaves a clean glossy beach as vast as the ocean
snakes curl lifeless on the sand
light leaks through a thousand holes in the sky dome
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chunky stuff, spices and bubbles swim in the creamy hot soup
dizziying sax dancing drum joyful piano how groovy
jazz jazz jazz
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jazzy orange sun disk sinks behind the firey cotton candy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frida laughs
Frida cries
Frida lives Frida dies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fields of colorful lights
making no difference
in a moonless cold night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dark clouds
Cruel wind
Leaves race scratching the heart of the street
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
green red black and white
crunchy soft hot and cold
a glossy fresh fiesta in a bowl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
blues in the morning blues at night
Blues dark and loud
blues intensely bright & light
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, March 28, 2009

- - حد فاضي ورايق كتب هذه ال"قصيدة" (مش انا) - القـــافية النونيـــة

القـــافية النونيـــة
أيـــــا ذا القـلب لا تحـــــزن فــــــذاك الحـب Infection
فـلـن تجــــــدي عقــــــاقير ولن تشفــــــيك Injection
فـــكم من عـاقـــــل فطـــن مضى بالحــب Direction
سـتـنـــــكره وتـنـســــــــاه ولن يبـــــقى له Mention
فـلا تنــــــــظم له شعــــراً ولا تكـتــــــب له Section
ولا يحــــــــزنك من باعك فقد أخطــــأت Selection
ولا تبـــــدي له أســـــــفـاً ولا تبــــــــــدي له action
فـــــــــــــإن الحب منـزلةٌ لبعض الناس exception
فبعض الناس إن هجـروا فلا حـــــزنٌ ولا tension
وبعض الناس إن هجروا يظل ويبـقى connection
فوصــــــل الروح إقبـــالٌ وما أحـــــــــلاه reaction
بدعـوات ومن قــلــــــب لها أثــــــــــر و affection
فـــإن لم يبـــــق لي شيء فلا حــــــــب ولا Passion
فــلا أسـف عـلى دنـيــــــا لـك وعليــك conversion


Friday, March 20, 2009

For you to be you and for me to be me

Allow me to feel my pain
Allow me to connect with it
dont dismiss me
give me room to breathe
I need to let it all out
it is poisoning my system
the years of oppression and neglect are getting to me
I need a safe place
give me your unconditional love so that I can give you mine
feel my pain so that I can feel yours
my pain is a big part of who i am
I dont want to feel embarrassed of my pain
I am allowed to feel it !
You say : move on, move on...
how can I?
I will I know - one day maybe, when I am safe
when i am heard
Marginalized - do you know how painful that is ?
feer hurts!
Exposed...
I want to be exposed to you
with all my pain and brilliance
my genuis and depression
I dont want to be embarrased becasuse of my oppression
"it is not an issue" , you say. My life is way better that many others -
But you know, it is MINE, my pain is mine- I am the one who feels it.
My pain needs love
be gentle with my pain
my darkness needs the light of understanding
solidarity

dont dismiss me
can you accept me the way i am? with my beauty and baggage?
do you see my beauty at all?
I tell the ocean about my pain - the trees hear me

God hears me
I crave the unity of the soul , a commuinity of the heart
communion with God through you and him and her
help me drop my defences
help me get rid of my identities - I want to be whole when with you
how can i if i am not whole within myself?

help me break free from the grinding wheel - acknowledge my courage - my stuggle
embrace my schezophrania
my madness is part of me
my maddness IS me

take me as a whole
Allow me to be me so that I can seize to be me
What I feel is real even if it doesnt make sense to you
Do you know how it feels to be jailed? stripped of your freedom?
do you know how it feels to be a woman? an arab? a palestinian? an artist?
do you want to know? do you care to know?
Does anyone care to know?

why would they, depressing lamentaion ...
minority colonialism feminism
oppression stuff ... boring depressing activist blabla
why would you care ? you were born up there
on the top of the hill

but if you want to be you
i need to be me
there is no you without me
and only when you stop being you
is when I become me
and only then
is when
I stop being me
only then
you can be you
and i can be me
do you see ?
what i'm trying to say ?
yes or nay?
hey?
hello
knock knock..
anyone there
or just an empty headskin

let's both seize to be you and me,
and only be
a one amazing we

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Rejection and realizing you've been rejected

I remember the first time i was rejected. I couldnt believe it. (we are talking about romantic rejection by the way) . I couldnt get over it for the longest time. I was so full of myself and couldn't comprehend, how can anyone in their right mind reject me. I thought I was unrejectable. Now I know better. I dont take personally as much as i used to. I realize people have different tastes and interests so therefore not everyone is supposed to be attracted to me. and when i dig a bit deeper , people who are not attracted to me I am not really attracted to them to start with, when i really look hard and honest inside myself , i realize that their rejection makes them look more attractive, because my focus becomes to get accepted by them instead of feeling weather there is a connection there. Now if things were this black and white , not a big problem. The real problem is when you are not sure weather you are being rejected or not, weather the person you are being involved with is just afraid or if they are really not into you. this confusion eats up a big part of the self esteem. and instead of focusing on how you feel about the person , you get sucked into speculating and interpreting this other person's signals (or the lack of signals)
recently i realized i have been rejected. i feel much better now that i am outside the speculation and guessing game. i hate mystery and guessing. so , i got rejected, good, better now than later, that means i am getting closer to my goal. i am burning down my rejection quota, anyway , someone who rejects me cannot be suitable for me . dont you think?

Emotional state

I'm feeling emotional, I know that is stupid. no, really it is stupid. nothing changed since yesterday, i only grew up one more day, i slept and woke up, received some more spam, spent a little bit more time on the PC and the TV, ate and drank...
nothing significant.
i feel rejected though. maybe because i am listening to emotional songs that are taking me back to times when i felt loved and in love. maybe because these songs are transmitting sad feelings. i wonder if i will feel happy if i listen to happy songs. am i taking on the feelings in the songs or is the song playing because it is reflecting my own feelings.
recently something happened , i met someone , and i got rejected, it didnt feel good at all. it clouded my judgment about how i feel about that person. you know what Madonna says? "rejection is the greatest aphrodisiac" do you think she is right?
The truth is that i have so much love inside me, that i need to share, to give, to express, and i keep on running into people who are afraid of love, i learned recently or not so recently that i cant express my feelings openly and freely, i cant be transparent. i never believed or followed that directive. the result, rejection or feeling rejected. having to swallow back my pride and emotional expression and crawl back in bed with old memories and fantasies of glimpses of loving moments.
Why do humans need love?? what is so special about a kiss ? about lips meeting? what happens when lips meet? how can people be so close one day and next day they are strangers. they hurt each other and say bad things about each other..
why does a song affect me so much? is it because it resonates on the deepest level with feelings i once touched and tasted? sad or happy
I dont know. i wish i knew, or maybe i dont wish, because at least i have an excuse now to be stumbling, i dont know, if i knew then i cannot justify my stumbling.
love love, they say it makes the world goes around.i love myself , but that still isnt enough, nothing is like hearing and smelling the love.
i am rambling heavily , i know. that is why God invented blogs , so that people like me ramble freely, liberally.
it will pass, the 'i need personal romantic love' fever. i think i like being in that state otherwise i can turn off the fucking music and go take a shower or a walk.. but again, no , i cant run from myself. in the shower I'll have me with me, i cant hide or run.
i tell myself this is only my domestication, it is all learned behavior. even feelings are not real, they are how we learned to react to different things.
In Star Trek there is a race called the 'Vulcans'. Vulcans were once emotional barbaric but then they decided to control themselves, they meditated and controlled their minds and emotions so that they dont get into the kind of emotional turbulence similar I am in today. they succeeded in living according to logic. But the price was high, we see in one of the episodes how Tuvac , the Vulcan became crazy eventually. In another episode it shows how when Vulcans are in sexual heat they are totally out of control.
The question is , will I even find the kind of love that i imagine and wish for? will i feel this real and deep connection with another person where there we become pure energy, where we merge but stay separate , connect on the emotional, physical, mental and spiritual, where there is no inhibitions and right and wrong, only pure transparency and childlike innocence exists, where play is the game, exploration of the soul.
bla bla bla

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Internal conflict


Have you ever found yourself arguing with people in your head?
I do that a lot actually, I just find that sometimes people that piss me off pop up in my mind and I start arguing with them, and they talk back and aggravate you more. So you'd be sitting alone in your bedroom but yet having heated discussions with people that might be thousands of miles away or ones you havent seen in many years.
According to the 'Stress and Conflict' workshop i took, these are not conflicts. A conflict requires that the 2 sides are aware of it, both perceive the other one's gain to be their loss.
The situation I mentioned here is considered internal conflict. It is in the confinement of our heads. For me though , it feels so real. It bugs me so much, it grinds in my head. I dont like real confrontation, so I solve that by doing it in my head. but since the other person(s) are not around to participate to a resolution or a closure, my internal conflict goes nowhere. So like a windmill goes on and on. مثل ثور الساقية.
I guess the 'right' thing to do is to bring it to the surface and resolve it or get some kind of closure. Sometimes the other side refuses to accept that there is a conflict. What would you do then??
I used to fantasize finding a magical button somewhere in my body that would stop the flow of thoughts and arguments in my head. imagine that, discovering that , say for example, pressing your belly button 3 times with your right index finger and then twice with your right pinky and then pushing with your thumb would stop thoughts. people wouldnt need drugs and alcohol then. But the question would be would they want to ever reactivate their thinking? they wouldnt have thinking to tell them to reactivate their thinking.
When I think to much like this I wish i can run away from me. but then , who is the thinker and who is the one who is trying to run away, and who is the one that is watching them and writing this story? God only knows...