Jerkulez's Ay Kallaaam!!

Numb

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 15:28:00 +0000

The blinky thing on the screen is blinking nonstop and it’s driving me insane. The paper is still a virgin, as white as those unreal white colored -laundry detergent commercials- undies. The words are hollow and thoughts are empty, the sound is silent and the feelings are wildly calm.

I sit to write, yet I fail, so I don’t set again to try. I wait.

No reason to write but my ego, but why should I write…When I have ego.

I keep thinking of more traits to describe those closest to me, to put in words how they think, how they feel and how it all looks ridiculously inane to me. Is there no more shit to talk about, or are we not able to talk because of all the shit. Is the time and matter appropriate for my charming self to make fun of things, or should I fake respect and shut my mouth.

I still try to think of things to say, of feelings to share, but nothing. I am waiting.

I am completely void of sympathy to the cause, with no empathy towards the people and no tolerance for circumstances. I find this all one big façade, a charade of sorts. A movie with a bad plot in which there is no script and a lousy soundtrack where the lyrics to the songs are corny and infuriating. Even worse are the actors in it, they are shameless, arrogant, egotistical, lying, deceitful, dishonest, corrupt, selfish, self-serving, self-preserving, self-righteous, smug, incoherent, inconsistent, unreliable, silly, meaningless, pointless, narrow minded, barbaric, crude, disrespectful, gross, impolite and primitive depressing a-holes.

And the audiences are all dead.

Yes, I used a thesaurus, and you’re welcome for the new vocab you picked up reading this.

Remember the dream, the cause, the reasons and why we did it all. No…then we will suffer no more. The right is left, and up is the same as down, the shit has hit sideways and the game has no end. We are stuck in the game of our lives. And there is no cheat mode this time, no walkthrough or wiki. But we have the world web where everybody has something to say. We overshare to compensate for the insignificance that is our lives. We stopped being real and have instead waged the war virtually on ourselves….this is ridiculously senseless.

In the vacant corridors of my mind where the raw data is crunching non-stop with no output to show for it. I am still waiting.

We all endure, we all sacrifice, but we don’t tolerate and we certainly don’t forgive. There is no light, there is not out, it has ended and now it is dark. Yet the story continues, the people still live and nothing changes. The smiles grow weary and people get tired, we have lost hope or we stopped to care. We are anarchy, the absence of law within freedom. We are non-accountable for our actions because we are babies, kids doing wrong and think it’s all fun and games. No one WILL punish us. No one CAN punish us.

We have failed collectively. Will we learn and grow up…ever?

The land has withered, and the river is running dry. The excuses grow duller, as so does the lies. We are divided as much as we are torn apart. We hate everything and everyone hates us. The shallow words, the ill thoughts and the bigotry we have become; along with the knives, the guns and the bombs, in our pockets are the currencies of the new game. This is not a transition phase, not a loading screen…THIS IS THE GAME!

We are still funny, but the joke has finally run dry.

We are dads, moms, sisters and brothers. We are uncle, aunts, grandparents and all weird relatives. We are engineers, soldiers, whores and bums. We are still breathing but we are not alive. We are automated but we are not efficient. We talk trash but we do not care. We are here but are not found. We are silent.

The stupid thing is still blinking, and I have nothing to say, my heart is steady; there is no flutter of joy or flap of sadness. No more waiting!

I am unable to dream. These are not my sleepless nights for I have none!

I am unable to write. These are not my words for I have none!

I am unable to think. These are not my thoughts for I have none!

I am unable to feel. These are not my emotions for I have none!

I am unable to be me. For … I AM NUMB!

Never Surrender

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 15:25:00 +0000

In our last couple of issues, we talked about some of our more dominant traits that make the Egyptian so…”Special”, we talked about our incredible misguided zeal and our many colorful personalities. Today we tackle yet another interesting trait of ours…Submissiveness.

Nothing better explains our nature than the famous “eli yetgawz omi, a2olo ya 3ami” saying, that there sums up how we like to be treated, kind of reminds me of how the old African slaves used to say “We be sick boss” when just the master was ill. Its years compounded by years of reliance on others to make our decisions, to dictate our lives, and tell us wrong from right.

You see, it’s easier this way, not to use our own beliefs, convictions or will, to not use mind or heart ; we are the direct product of tyranny and oppression, and we gave in. For so long we choose to take the easy way out, and just agree to be slaves to limitations set by our own selves on how to life our lives.

Beyo2lk mara el ra2yes a3d wi beysa2l ra2ys el wozra…howa el sha3b a’7baro eeh, el wazeer 2alo, mabsout wi by7bk ya fandem, el rays 2alo tmam, 3ayez anzl ashof. Ra7o nazleen kobri October, wi henak ra7 7ateen a traffic toll, ta7od gene winta tale3 el kobri, la2a el sha3b 3adi, mafesh kalam, 2al 7alas, 7aleha geneh tale3 geneh nazel, bardo mafesh shakwa min el nas, 2alk, 7aleha 5 geneh tale3, 5 geneh nazel, wi bardo mafesh shakwa min el sha3b, esta3rb el rays, wi 2al tayeb kol wa7d tale3 ganb el felous ya7os 3ala afah, wi 2al akeed keda el nas mesh haterda, wi howa mashi la2i wa7d metnarfz, 2alo malk ya bni (el rays mota7fi tab3an) 2alo, keda ba2a kteer, tab yektaro el beydrabona 3ala afana 3shan nengz el zahma!

Most of you are aware of this joke in one form or another; a perfect example of our submissiveness in life and how we got so complacent with our liberties and rights. And before you go and say but we changed, we had the revolution; let me just point out the revolution is yet to yield its expected results, furthermore, the few doing the revolution are not the whole of Egypt, allot of the people fighting against the good people of the revolution are scarred submissive folks who are terrified of the uncertainty of the future, and of change. They are just not used to taking things in their own hands, or to be responsible, to be accountable for one’s actions.

Sadly outside of Tahrir, Egyptians are still pretty much the same, even more evident, are the Egyptians working outside. We are still the same “yogm3hom el tabl, wi yefarqhom el 3assa” people. We had our great revolution, and now nations are ready to treat us differently, but we are not!

The last debacle of the American NGOs and how shameful the resolution, I mean are you friggin kidding me, US can still do stuff like that to us, NOW! Everyone knows don’t poke the damn bear, unless you’re able to kick the bear’s ass! mesh poke the bear and then bend over!!!

Years of oppression and submissiveness are not cured instantly, but we will get there eventually, that requires we stay steadfast in our direction, we should take responsibility and hold everyone accountable, we are subdued, but we are also brave, and we have roared and our voices will be heard, we will fight and never surrender, so that when a new generation - not us or our kids, but their kids - are born into freedom, so that they can take this task upon their shoulders with stride, it is them that we can entrust our dreams of grandeur to, it is them who will make this place I call home…a great nation again.

I am

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 15:23:00 +0000

Amidst all this we toil to cater to things we yet don't understand, we take a stand to a world around us unclear and to our own desires to matter how unsure of them we are. In the fabric of being are we weaved together, all a part of a bigger puzzle yet individual pieces to their own accord.

I am the land and the people... I am a country.
I am holy, the right and the wrong... I am religion.
I am the pride of death... I am a martyr.
I am the sorrow and grief of loss... I am a parent.
I am the prejudice and the wicked... I am a terrorist.
I am the sheep and the misguided... I am a worshiper.
I am indifferent and uncaring... I am nothing.
I am freedom and the change... I am the revolution.
I am not what I say I am... I am a lair.
I am the promises to be broken... I am a politician.
I am the horror of humanity... I am war.
I am the smile of innocence lost... I am a child.
I am the potential to be... I am a graduate.
I am the dreams unachieved and the hopes unfulfilled... I am a wish.
I am the rhythm and the beat... I am a heart.
I am the neurons firing up... I am a brain.
I am the core of existence... I am a soul.
I am the web of lies... I am the media.
I am the scent of dew... I am a flower.
I am confused and I am conflicted... I am the middle.
I am the sun rising... I am a new day.
I am the reflection of night.... I am the moon.
I am the villages connected yet spaces apart...I am the world.
I am your neighbor, the thorn in your side... I am Israel.
I am the massacred under tyranny... I am Syria.
I am fighting for my cause against occupation... I am Palestine.
I am dark and not connected with... I am Africa.
I am a ruminant of a civilization that once were...I am the Middle East.
I am the dark that shines light bright... I am a radical.
I am the bad that makes others great... I am a fundamentalist.
I am the forgotten and the disregarded... I am poor.
I am used and abused because I am weak...I am an L.E.
I am corruption that ruins lives...I am a bribe.
I am the presence of nothing, but... I am not empty.
I am the simple taste of food... I am fool.
I am the once ruler of this land...I am a Pharaoh.
I am wavy, out of lines and dangerous...I am driver.
I am not a believer that people can change... I am a cynic.
I am with flavor because I am unfiltered...I am the water.
I am a recurring nightmare when gone...I am electricity.
I am full of life and trash... I am the Nile.

I am the history lost and the places unseen... I am a museum.

I am the epitome of civilization that once was...I am the pyramids.

I am dubbed and silly...I am a Turkish drama.

I am the failure running after a ball...I am elmonta7b.

I am the creator of new Pharaohs to worship...I am an Egyptian.

I am not accepting of others view...I am narrow minded.

I am blindly imitating the other...I have no identity.

I am something to aspire to...I am democracy.

I am the rite of everyone...I am freedom.

I am loud when I am wrong...I am a bully.

I am one thousand more... I am a mosque.

I am the other minority… I am a church.
I am one and I am many, I am you and I am me, I am less and I am more...I am an Egyptian.
I am chaos, anarchy and undefined but I am also hope and the future and I am 90 million strong...I am Egypt.

I am the writer of this piece...I am me.

I am...many!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 07:26:00 +0000

We talked last time about our incredible zeal and the fun aspects and setbacks of this peculiar trait in the Egyptian personality, And in continuation to our psychoanalysis, we tackle Multiple Personality Disorder(MPD), as we try to figure the behavioral patterns, see some examples and try to know the reasons.

First off, most of you are now thinking Schizophrenia (Schizo), MPD is not Schizo, schizo is brain disorder a person is born with or inherits, with symptoms developing later in life. Schizo is when a person starts experiencing hallucinations and delusions, believing stuff that is not there. And we Egyptians are familiar to it because of the high consanguinity rates we have and can be tracked back all the way to the old days of our Pharaonic ancestors... there was no hope for us!

We are not talking about something as serious as Schizophrenia, but the much lighter cousin, MPD.

MPD opposed to Schizo is something caused by repeated, sustained emotional, physical, or sexual abuse over a long period of time, and we have been getting pounded emotionally and metaphorically sexually abused for over 50 years; I mean, what they have done, do and are still doing to us, is mighty brutal to our psyche; and man being an evolving creature had to find a coping mechanism, inevitably it was bound to happen, Egyptians would have to develop MPD in order to survive the crazy coaster.

OK, so that probably didn’t make much sense, so lets try it in another way, simply put MPD is...

when you have your daughter wear suitable cloths going to work but ask her to wear the “other” cloths when going to a wedding so that she can get suitors.

you going to pray, while just a moment ago, you just finished a beer “an alcoholic beer that is”.

when we are such a good natured people, we are the worst to our own “and ask about Egyptians working outside”.

knowing something is wrong and yet repeatedly continue doing it. (Also definition of crazy)

wearing a hijab, not respecting it or yourself and doing wild inappropriate shit.

growing a beard and advocating that Islam is the answer, while for you Islam is a means to an end.

saying you believe in freedom of religions, yet prosecute those who are different.

believing that once you have power, you will live forever, although you know there is nothing more sure than death.

telling everybody we believe in democracy, while we rally a protest, shout in disgust and belittle others to make it known we don't agree with the outcome.

losing friends because of taking sever reaction stances over a political issues, although they are all viable options, and each has his/her own right to support whatever.

Declaring a certain procedure 7aram, while using that same procedure trying to win something.

The “Daily with Tawfiq Fokasha” show. That show is insane!

Its complex to try and understand the reason behind MPD behavior; and a direct result to that is affecting how we raise our kids, how we explain the difference between 3eeb vs 7aram. See, problem in 3eeb is that it is plausible and OK in certain circumstance, like how it is 3eeb to wear mini shorts in front of strangers; so without the circumstances, it is not 3eeb anymore. While if 7aram, you should never wear mini shorts, people or no people. That caused to grow up with a wrapped sense of what is right and wrong, what is prohibited and what is makrouh, but eshta sha'3al.

Being in a constant emotional turmoil due to the governments overseeing us, has caused us to get stuck, between the brutal daily attempts to manage our lives and those of our families and that of being part of a larger society and being responsible for its actions. We either neglected work, family or our country. We just couldn't handle them all, and it's much to ask of anyone to be sane dealing with our lives in these times and these circumstances.

We only hope moving forward that somehow, our other selves find their way back to our main self, that we are not always divided as people but united as individuals.

If any of the above made any sense, then that is because the writer also suffers from MPD, and no one gets a MPD except another MPD. I write this with one of my many personalities, for I as an Egyptian am many, Let's just hope it was the creative one. And I Wish that this particular one, can inspire the other jackass ones in me, to be always creative, to make it fuel my passion, and then pour that passion in my everyday life. I wish we all become one, not with nature but with ourselves. Oh and if any of this didn't make sense then maybe you are one of the sane ones out there, and if so, please help make tomorrow better.

Zealous much...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 07:25:00 +0000

Egyptians have always been a fascinating breed of people for me; they are, as a society and individuals of diverse attributes, many a good but nothing more prominent than MPS (Multiple Personality Syndrome) and Zeal.

Zeal by definition is showing fervor for something or someone. We have always been zealous in nature, which in its own accord is not a bad thing, if we were just that. Egyptians are actually overzealous people, and it seems it only got worse after “El-Thawra”.

Being overzealous leads to false impressions and feedback, this in turn leads to unjustified attitude.
After coming back from a trip to Ukraine, I met with a couple of friends and naturally we came to discuss the trip and what we did, saw and whatnot, and somehow the subject of women came up (who am I kidding, it always comes up), anyhow, here I am talking about watching god’s loveliest creations walk this earth and this chick passes by, normally guys notice chicks, because that’s what guys do, for me she didn’t register a 3 on the scale of 10 in beauty, for my fellow ma7romeen, she was a 7, and this one dude goes off to say, “maho, banat masr 7elween zy beto3 Ukrania”.

After a few moments of silence and pain we rubbed off the deadly comment, and delved into Egyptian women, beauty standards and marriage. Somehow that same dude managed to slip in...”Banat masr a7la banat lil gawaz”. Him being married to one, I can understand the notion; he doesn’t want to face reality because his reality is back at home waiting for him, apparently it’s ”Love for thy brother what you love for thy self” kind of thing.

NO, “Banat Masr” by far are not the prettiest or even appropriate for marriage, that’s not a fact nor a statement or even an observation. Don’t get me wrong that same argument can be used against our own men, but that is not the issue here, it’s because of us giving our girls that false impression of how pretty they are, we got some twisted attitude from our girls..’Ya ard e7fzi ma 3leek’ comes to mind here.

Here are other examples of some of our most common bull-crap and how it’s affecting us.
- Egyptians are very religious people
- Egyptians are naturally very funny people
- Egyptian kids are born the smartest, apparently till he watches “cinema alatfal”
- Egyptian women are ‘agd3 banat’, sometimes even pretty gets thrown into the mix
- Only and Egyptian woman can make an Egyptian happy, and vice versa.
- Lebanese women just love Egyptian men, get to the airport wearing Egypt jersey and you’re set.
- Corruption is everywhere, not only in Egypt.
- Egyptians are ‘Atyab’ wi the most ‘3alban’ people you can find on earth

Egyptians are not genetically funny, there are no extra funny bones in them, it’s just that humor was a way of coping that worked best with us. We have the same ratio of funny to unfunny people as anybody else, issue was because of how suffocated we were, funny was our medicine and naturally we toke that generalized it and compounded it by infinity to be a symbolic trait of Egyptians. Same applies to the Egyptian fetus being the smartest born; it was one of the smarter kids, and not THE smartest, big difference.

Egyptian women are ‘Nakd’ and the Egyptian men are ‘Mo3aqdeen’. I have no idea how they are working so far. And with all the prerequisites required now, why would I even consider marrying an Egyptian…why?
Corruption is everywhere, but it’s not even close to the scale we have in Egypt. And saying that just blinds us to how bad we are and our negative attitude of dealing and accepting things.

If Egyptian were truly the kindest of people we wouldn’t have been ruled by the most corrupt, el nezam el sabq doesn’t show any traits of being either tayeb or 3alban, at all.

The above and many more attitudes is how we as a society are coping with the world and you will find that they correlate.

It’s kind like only ‘shage3 el sena3a el watinya’ phase and you have to be a blind zealot at this stage of our revolution, or you’re a ‘Felol’; that includes all things Egyptian, our women, our food (which by the way is not really a good cuisine in comparison to many other), our politics and our religion, our state of mind and our attitudes. What’s even worse is that we believe our own lies and defend them aggressively.

I can safely say that am not a complicated being and a fairly objective dude when it comes to matters of life. Maybe it was my multicultural upbringing, or the fact I traveled a lot, maybe it was reading about us and about others that got me to be that way; whatever it may be, we have to maintain objectivity when dealing with countries and welfare of our state.
We rank 89 (out of 110) on the scale of Country Prosperity Index (for 2010) we are followed by the rest of middle Africa, Yemen and Iran…! If that doesn’t say it clearly, nothing else does.

I believe that attitude of being overzealous is a way of making excuses, it’s an indication that we are still lazy to want to change and improve; and covers a veil over the realities of life and how bad things really are; we don’t want to deal with the scary truth that there are better things out there and that we should seek them, because we are not used to that.

But these same people and society gave us the 25th of Jan, introduced us to a new breed of Egyptian that is highly educated, smart, good mannered and really zealous (good zeal) for its country and people. A sign of any advanced society is their ability to self-judge, self-mock, and self-adjust their behavior. Let’s not just focus on the mocking and leave the judgment and adjustment of our selves behind. Be rational and become…The Egyptian I dreamt to an Egypt I long for.

We are proud

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 07:23:00 +0000

For the longest time, I remember not caring about where I belong, what is happening around me and who I really was in relation to my country. I was just living for me, working for me and having fun for me. Not content with a country I seldom called home, that was made easier, because I had a way out, I simply upped and leaved, went to work for the others, leaving my own behind, it was no betrayal, but it was also not a feat of strength; there was nothing wrong there, we had lost hope, and we just didn’t care.

I was always between homes, living in both my home and another world that acted as one. Yet I never really caring about any. Days and years passed, and I still was not sure why I love my country, torn between actually giving a damn, or just managing like many of us do. It didn’t feel right, not to be emotionally invested in something I should hold so dear. But it was always easier just to go along, to not swim against a stronger tide and to accept the inevitably of our fates.

Then a bunch of people gathered and said let us change, let us tempt fate, let us make an even bigger wave, let us speak up, let us do instead of just talk. We fight for true freedom, we try to bring down the man, we want equality and dignity to all of us. These bunch of people grew to a bigger bunch, the bunch grew to a crowd, and the crowd kept growing, sometimes one at a time, mostly many at others,growing until they were millions strong, transforming in the process to a nation; then something changed in me. Slowly but surely, I felt a faint cry for home.

As a new sense of pride swept through my damp conscious, a hope that was once lost has been rekindled again by feats of patriotism, that put me to shame. These people cared and they truly loved. Loved a country long forgotten and cared about the people that got torn apart by the system. And they moved people and could move mountains.

I found out that I also cared, that deep inside I also love my country, that I also am part of it as it is part of me. That my voice can be heard, and my actions can be felt. That I should be more than me and be the sum of us.

We are torn between watching the news, calling our friends and families and trying to do something more; conflicted in disappointing emotions of not being there, with the comfort of also not being there. We may have chosen to leave, but we can't have others fight our fight. For we are many and we matter and we also can make a difference. And as these brave actions draw us closer to home, we remember, who we were, who we can be and what we can do.

We are all yearning to return home, to a country we are proud to call ours, and to people we can share life with; but we can't have them fight this war for us, they should know that they are not alone, that fundamentally we outside are just the same as those inside.

From all of us out, to all of you in, know that our prayers are with you, our support, our minds souls and hearts, our resources and if need be, our lives as well.

Who are we? Well...we are many...proud Egyptians.

"Erf3 rask inta masry, inta wa7d min eli nezlo fil midan, erf3 rask inta masry, inta eli wef2t ma3 gark fil midan. Erf3 rask inta masry, inta el masry beta3 zaman." الميدان لـ حمزة نمرة
This is for all those who actually went down to the midan, and those who wanted but couldn't, those that wished they could and those that just supported them.

Notes:
The outside, here are not just those that are physically outside, but also those physically in but emotionally trapped out.
I know this is a bit different than my regular me, but the topic itself is also different.

The Valentine Wars

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 06:45:00 +0000

The issue with valentine….is not that “Men are from Mars and women are from Venus”, and that we perceive this particular day differently; after all men perceive everything differently.

It’s the human nature and how we react to expectations, as always women have the illusion of the ever romantic -always there for her- male figure , had they had their ways, everyday would be valentine day, and men would do nothing but worship at their feet, and the world would go to hell.

I for myself think that men, being more practical creature and not so emotionally action dictated, came up with the ingenious plan of making a special day for love, we simply can get away with anything we have done all year, if we are just that specially in love on that day; throw in some roses, an expensive gift, and just do whatever she wanted to do for some time.

But real effort must be made, no half assness is allowed, do take care; women next day will exchange stories of their valentine’s day as a means of showoff; and a poor soul he who doesn’t measure up to the gauntlet.

Problem is, men think that if they don’t care or treat this as they do with any other female related issue, that it will be ok and that it will pass by. They are gravely mistaken! This haunts all year until you make up for it, period.

Some will try to diminish the role of that day, using religious reasons or the ‘I love you every day, this day is not that special’ excuse or some other made up stuff. That is just laziness, a sign of stupidity and ignorance on the part of man, for if he only knew the rewards he can reap, he would have made valentine’s day a monthly (maybe bi monthly) quarterly event.

So pull this off, and you are prince charming and she is falling in love with you all over again. Love is in the air, and whatever you desire is yours, at least until you screw up again.

The Action: Do something out of the norm for that special one, more so try to pull off a matter of high difficulty concerning her.

Your reward: The sensation of a task achieved, the happiness of a smile received and the bliss of gratitude unfathomed.
At the end, deep down inside every one of us, is a child that loves and wants to be loved back. And it feels nice when we make other feels good about themselves; for we are happy when those around us are.

Oh Shit!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 06:43:00 +0000

So yah, it is all fucked up, but then again, when was it not so?
True it all seems to gravitate around that particular explicit idea, but when was it ever about something else.

You go on, walking your road, making your path and then you hit shit, and that’s kool, shit is natural, shit is a part of you. You accept shit for what it really is…just shit!

Good Shit: Is the shit that you can clean with some soap and water or with ‘Sorry’, doesn’t really hurt you.

But then there is other shit, bad shit, deep shit that taints the soul; the kind where you say to someone “You’re full of shit!”

Be Good: You should not ever throw shit, that is just evil, unless it is for vengenace, then you are totally entitled to it!

Be smart: For when the shit hits the fan, you should not be the one behind the fan!

The Splatter effect: Be Smarter, the only safe place to be is directly behind the fan, the rest of the room is fucked!

Shit is not always bad, think of all the wrong that would happen if there was no shit or shitting to go around!

Microsoft is Shitastic, with all that Shitasticfied things they do to their everyday users!

Some ppl have high levels of Shitassity, other have it low, some are just plain shit!
Shitclickers are the worst, no respect for shit time!
That’s the end of this little Shitchat!

Expectations

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 06:39:00 +0000

Dear Readers,
Hello,

"Truly loving another means letting go of all expectations. It means full acceptance, even celebration of another's person-hood." - Karen Casey

Expectations! What are those, what do they do, how do they affect us and why do we need to manage them.

Expectations are a form of mannerism that - sometimes unknowingly - shapes how the life of one person is proceeding; it is the assumption that in a specific moment, a particular action will be executed by the person.

You will always find many who debate expectations, some pro and some are against… so let us look at some quotes about expectations.

“The quality of expectations determines the quality of our action.” - A. Godin

“Keep high aspirations, moderate expectations, and small needs” - William Howard Stein

“Life is so constructed, that the event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation” - Charlotte Bronte

“The curse of the romantic is a greed for dreams, an intensity of expectation that, in the end, diminishes the reality” - Marya Mannes

“Happiness equals reality minus expectations” - Tom Magliozzi

“There is hardly any activity, any enterprise, which is started out with such tremendous hopes and expectations, and yet which fails so regularly, as love.” - Erich Fromm

“Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.” - Leo F. Buscaglia

“High achievement always takes place in the framework of high expectation.” - Charles F. Kettering

“Be it high, low or even none; expectations are always meant to be managed” - Myself

Managing expectations, a task so vital to insuring happiness and yet is never carried out. The reason? We normally just expect too much or too little, out of ourselves and out of other people.

This goes for everything in life, bars set too high that with it, frustration is a constant friend, or setting it too low and never being satisfied; both leading to disappointment, anger and resentment.

Couples, usually form on the foundation of mutual understanding and unequivocal love, that love is all we need and is the sole most important thing, they fail to set expectations for themselves and their partners, don’t get confused, falling in love has nothing to do with expectations, its more off, what after we fall in love, that expectations kicks in.

Failing to recognize the subtle differences or boundaries, of the other person, will mostly lead to having a false assumption about that said person. The ‘I Love You’ expectation example is one of the famous ones, if not the most famous. This is when one party musters up some courage and says the “L” word for the first time in a conversation, and expectedly assumes that same word will be used in return; other than two people already in love, 2 scenarios might occur; either they get the sympathy ‘I Love you 2’. Or you get one of the following not so desirable answers “Your Great, I like you, Thank You, Wow I’m speechless, What…love ..me??” or any other answer that doesn’t say that same 3 words back to them.

Both scenarios lead to disaster, 1st one was not said with full conviction, but under obligation and fear of hurting or losing them; the 2nd, well… it is more of a practical approach or just right down mean. In both, it is awkward and disappointing not to mention that frustration ensues. Moreover, from there it is pretty much ruined, because we tend to take this hurt inside and again expect the other party to understand and apologize; disappointment…again!! And the vicious cycle of disappointments keeps on rolling.

Had they have set the expectations, they either would be expecting that kind of answer (who wants that), or more appropriately not say it in the first place until the time is right.

Ladies, men are not big fans of saying the “L” word; and Men, women just love to say “Love” all the time and express emotions more frequently. So how do you solve such a thing? Expectations have to be managed and set.

Titanic was a nightmare for guys all around the world, because it set the expectations of women at “He will sacrifice his life in order to save me” level, which unless a man is married to a woman for like 10 years and still loves her as passionate as they first met, might not do……………….

So how do we manage and set expectations, join us next time for the answers to that and in the meantime, give the following quiz a twirl; answer truthfully and note down your answers, keep tuned as we discuss more on these points in the days to come.
Till next time, take care and cya again.

The ‘How Realistic Are Your Expectations’ Quiz

1 - Conflict and anger are signs that your relationship is failing.
- True
- False

2- You're more likely to divorce if you have different likes and dislikes and interests, and come from different backgrounds.
- True
- False

3- In healthy relationships, major disagreements always get resolved over time.
- True
- False

4- In healthy marriages, both spouses have the same definition of what it means to be loving.
- True
- False

5- People just fall out of love.
- True
- False

6- Cheating doesn't have to ruin a relationship.
- True
- False

7- Most people are much happier in their second marriages because they've learned from their mistakes.
- True
- False

Emotionless Apathy

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 06:36:00 +0000

Uninspired; I stare at the cursor blinking on my screen steadily waiting for my fingers to input the letters; waiting for my mind to form the words. I write a couple of lines only to erase them again, and again.

Unreachable; I try to look inside, to draw upon some sort of inspiration; to recall a memory or a feeling that would trigger my long dormant pen; but to no success. I again write a couple of lines only to erase them...again.

Emptiness; all I find in my world are pale walls and colorless skies. I only see smudgy faces, and hear unclear words. I can’t make out the pictures of creation. I fail to write anything, but I still try to erase what was unwritten.

Intangible; I don't feel the wind in my face; I don’t feel the warmth of the sun on my skin; I don’t hear the birds sing, or hear the dolphins cry. I am unable to write anything, and there is nothing to erase.

Indifferent; I care not for humans when they are happy or when they are sad; I don’t care if I am happy or if I am sad. Good or bad it makes no difference. I am able to write, but I decide to erase them because I don't care.

Loneliness; I am alone; I like that I am alone, but people won’t let me be; so I am with everyone, but they are not with me. I find the words to write, to only erase them since they are only for me.

Unfulfilled; I let my dreams die; I watch them as they grow old and I stand still. I try to make someone else dream my own. I have no reason to write, and therefore no reason to erase anything.

Cynical: I am sarcastic of everything and everyone; your pains, sorrow and your happy little oblivant lives. Nothing is important bacuase nothing is real. I find many words to write, but I erase them all because they are fake.

Hypocrite: I do what I don’t say, yet say a lot of what I do; I convince myself of things that are true and don’t mean anything. I am who I appear to be. I write some lines, but I erase them because they are true.

Unfathomed; the intricate works of the mind; the depth of a soul, the size of a heart; the limit of forgiveness; the power of memory; the complexity of feelings and the simplicity of emotions; the weight on the shoulders; the strength of love; the joy of laughter; and the healing of words. For all of these I am able to write; and what I wrote, I will not erase; because that too; is unfathomed.

هي الحياة

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 09:43:00 +0000

تســاقـطت أعبائي كغصن جفت أوراقه
وأحسـست بهرب أيامي كما القطار غير عابئ

فهي كصور في زخم الحياة تفاصيلها مكتملة
و وجدتني أنظر إليها فشاحت عني أنظارها
فتتأججت مشــاعري كطفل يبكي
وخرت قوأي بعد طول معترك

طفقت أقبل عليها فهمت هي بيا
إبتسـمت لها فضحكت فبكيت أنا
لا أبغي فراقها وقد قتلني ركودها

هي كانت كأحلام الواقع
فأبيت أن لا تكون واقع أحلامي

و أطبقت علي قلم جف كلماته
عله يجود علي كما جاد من قبلي

تفكرت فأنكرت وجودي
وقبلته فأنهكني إختفائي

و أبتسـمت و أنا أكتب كلماتي
فهي بلا معني و لكنها حالي

The River and Me...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 08:37:00 +0000

As I stopped to grab a breath and look around me, I saw that everything was the same;

the world was colored the same, smelled the same, even tasted the same.....

All Grey, I couldn't see anything form the thick forest of fog and mist, I extended my arms, only to get swallowed by the mist.....it was getting thicker, and the more I stood still, the more engulfed by the clouds I became. I had to move, had to keep going on.....

I then closed my eyes, concentrating on enhancing my hearing, I had to bare the fog, now almost up to me chest....I listen, still listen....I could hear breeze, then I heard water.

Opened my eyes and took one last look, before I started moving out in the direction I thought I heard the water come from; as I washed away the fog from me, I picked up speed, and while still trying to listen to the water, I followed the gust of wind no starting to blow.

I stopped, and again closed my eyes to listen....'It's that direction' I said to myself. I started to move towards the sound again, this time clearly hearing water, a running stream it seems; as I keep on moving, I notice my body doesn't feel heavy like before; 'is the mist growing lighter?' I thought; I kept my course steady and went on...and the suddenly, sun rays hit my eyes, blinded by the sudden exposure to light, I held my hand in front of my eyes for a while, trying to slowly welcome light back into me again, I can feel the warmth building in, the feel of sun of my skin and the breeze on my face; slowly I open my eyes...

Breath taken for moments, the view in front me spread vast as vision can reach, wide meadows of green pasture and brown sticks of tree and in the middle, a blue line of water; a painting so simple yet so obsolete, so refreshing and contradicting to what I was in before, I look back and I see green, where has the fog gone?

Not giving it thought, I walk towards the stream, and the more I approached the running water, the bigger that blue line became. In the distance I could make out a figure of an old man waving, was he waving to me? He must, there is no one around but me, and so it's got to be me.

Making my way in the direction of the old man, I started to slightly run, I don't know why I did so, but it's that feeling of invigoration, the harder I run, the more lighter I feel, distance closing in fast, I draw closer to the old man, his face becoming clearer, I can tell he held such a sweet caring smile, finally reaching the old man, I gasp for air..... Humph...pooof!

- Hi, where am I?

- Take a deep breath first, Hesham

As I inhale a deep fresh batch of air, I take a closer look at the old man, he had the figure that suggests he was well built when he was young, white silky hair and clear water like blue eyes, you can clearly see the marks of time on his old face, yet it all comes wonderfully to give you serenity unparalleled.

- How do you know my name? Where am I? Who are you?

- I am but an old man, and you are here in my land; he said with a smile

- Why am I here? I don't understand....

- Well let me tell you a story, walk with me.

- Long time ago this river you see here, was just a small stream, its beginning ways far from here, the river vigorous and young, it used to sweep down the shores, unrelenting and uncontrollable, this river used to dash through both mud and stone, setting to reach out its journey's end, but no matter how long the river ran, the path never ended.

The old man stops to look around, I can see a joyful smile as he takes the surroundings around him in, not wishing to interrupt him, I myself try to grasp whatever I can from the beauty around me, in my failed attempts I open my eyes to find the old man looking at me and laughing..

- Wish you could see you face, what were you doing?

- What happened to the river then? I asked, embarrassed to answer his previous question

- Ah yes! well the river started to get weary and tired of aimlessly flowing, and many times thought of giving up and just being a stream, maybe that's what he was always intended to be, nothing more, nothing less; and in the midst of his tired thoughts, he came upon another small stream, that little stream was young and crazy, flowing all around, she sensed the river was sad, approached him and asked, what is wrong river Sir? I am not a river (not yet) I am just a big stream, but a stream still and I have been flowing for a long time looking for my ocean, but I can't find it, and I have grown weary and tired.

- But river Sir, I see you have a lot of riches within you, waiting to flow and it’s the journey that counts, you get to meet other streams and rivers, like me; and your story is yet to be told.

- 'Maybe it is little one' Said the river, for now I have a path I must choose, and no matter what, I never regret what I have done before, let’s move on and I know one day I will meet my ocean, and on my journeys I will make new friends, grow stronger with their support and flow faster.

- Years gone by and the river flows, making friends, choosing paths, loosing way, but always coming back, refusing to be just another stream, the river grow bigger, more stronger, much more richer and he was never along....then one day, the river met the ocean and a thing of beauty it was, you could swear you didn't see anything of the like, for the river has finally reached his goal, reached the end of his journey he has been on so long.

His story now over the old man stood still, closed his eyes, spread his arms and started to laugh
seeing how happy he was, I couldn't help but start laughing myself, as I slowly spread my arms, I rotated around myself, I could now feel it, I could finally feel the place.

After ages of moments, and holding on to breath from the laughter, I raise my hand to the old man and smile back at him, it was my first smile since I came to this place; thank you I thought, and as if he read my mind, he patted my back and looked to me, and I looked back at him, those blue eyes seems familiar to me, I thought to myself, where did I see them before.

- Has this answered your question, why and how?
With gratitude in my eyes, I nodded my head yes, whispering 'thank you, my old man'

As he turns his back and starts moving away, I can only stand there, feeling heavy yet satisfied,
the fog around me started building up, and I was rapidly losing sight of the scenery in front of me ' Old man, Old man!' but he could not hear me; I can hear the sounds of beeps and my body starts shaking gently....the beeps grow louder and I can hear a female voice saying "wake up Hesham, you’re gonna be late to work"....as I open my eyes I look at the alarm beeping next to me and look and her with a smile " was it a good dream" she said; 'It was' I said still half asleep, remembering the dream, I remember calling out at the end 'Old Man, Hey! Old man, how did you know all of this? Tell me please'

The old man turns and looks again at me.... 'Well! How else silly, I am the River, I am your RIVER''

Today!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 13:02:00 +0000

Today, i sat in front of a small water fountain, the street at my back with cars passing by, while the wind blows a slightly coldish breeze at my face

Today, i sat in a small garden with a fountain, while the sun spread its glowing hue over the silhouette of 3 tall structures that threw its shadow upon me

Today, i had a notebook, i sat and i thought, i listened to the breeze and i felt the sounds around me

Today, i found a pen in my pocket, i toke it out and held it high and started gazing at it.

Today i wrote on some paper with my pen, and to my astonishment, the words were flowing as if the ink was shaping itself into words.

Today, was different! Today was nice.

Today i lost my notebook that i wrote in!!!

Today is still nice and surely different :D

Screw That!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 15:53:00 +0000

I am aggravated, agitated, angered, annoyed, bothered, bummed, disappointed, enraged, irked, irritated, offended, peeved, vexed, upset, and feeling wookie*

Yesterday i flunked my second trial at obtaining a driving license in these forsaken desert land of a country called......... (where i work, not where i am from) seems like my ten years of driving is not good enough for these camel riding -now rich all in cars- idiotic morons.

I failed my first time, because it's an unsaid rule that no foreigners pass from first go, afraid that it might be called as doing favors and such! OK, so i go, do my thing, drive and do what the examiner has instructed and fail with flying fuckin colors -note 1 to my fellow readers, i had somebody on the inside- that same somebody was able to secure me anther trial after 10 days -note 2, if you fail you need at least a month before trying again- and so i waited for my chance of getting that ever elusive, hardest fuckin thing achievable in this country -the shit piece plastic from hell card 'The Laisyn'- as the natives call it.

And so the anticipated day arrives, with words of prayers from the family, work and friends, as if i am going to war, promises that this time it is for sure; "I have talked to the guys myself, don't worry" said my contact on the inside, and with his fake words i felt a light breeze, hope shined weak, finally today, i will become a man.

Got into the car, went into the training area, and waited my turn, in the process got shifted from exam area to another three time, with each time, be becoming more gloomier, and the examiner more sadistic and non bearing -note 3, Ramadan, no coffee, no smoke, nothing- finally my turn, i gave him my card, and thinking to myself he should be giving me the easy test now, after all i had someone on the inside set things up, but did he; Fuck No, he gave the hardest test; parallel parking in -a fit your car only if you land it there space- did i fret, nope nor did i flinch, put on the waiting sign and started parking the car, let just say it wasn't the smoothest or best parked car, but it was parked, yet the goat drinking officer felt that couldn't suffice, and told me to go on my way (that's how i knew i failed)

On the outer brinks of hell, as i gradually approach a place of agony and misfortune and misery
i waited for the inevitable call, did i pass, or did i not? My gut feeling told me not, yet for some reason the guy with me trying being all optimistic and shit, saying maybe, who knows, maybe...well i freakin hate maybes; and true to my feel, i got the card back with the word 'Failed' on it, i felt like i am a kid waiting on his high school grades, and couldn't make his parents proud.

There were guys i could tell that failed for the fifth or sixth time ( you have up till 10 times before you get reset all over), just because his salary is not good enough, or the job title was menial. Oh how they trumped the heart of men, so violently, so viciously; to satisfy their bruised -always wanting more- egos.

Yet i am a true believer in the 'what happens, does happen for a reason' motto, although i am yet to find out the reason, i stand my course on trying to get the license, or i will go back home, it's not even worth the humiliation of not having a car -note 4, i work in sales- If anything good came out of this ordeal, it would be, you reading this, either feeling my pain or laughing at it, most important is, i had fun writing it, and truly hope you had fun reading it

* Feeling Wookie: A state of barbaric anger with incoherent voice growls, due to frustration and too much Star Wars!

Glimpses of World

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 14:40:00 +0000

WHEN

Winds roar in the midst of anguished clouds

Mosaics of celestial stars form on the canvas sky

A motion breeze that captures the still moment

Undying pledge of yet to be born days

Secret truths that resonates with bearing lies

Will succumbs to the call of nature god

Life resumes as we pause our lives

Sanction enthroned uncovering the vial

Time wonders why still we choose to stay

Inverted is the pyramid of priorities lost to vain

Falling upwards to reach the bottom

THEN

Space void of emotions

Crumble to stand strong

Hurt to mend our world

Collision course set to evade

A love that destroys

The fulfillment of negativity

Build only to break

Die to be remembered

Selection of the unsuitable

Freedom of the dead

Wavering hopes of dying wishes

Shadows that light our ways

Directions to lose sight of goals

From

Mind screaming

Heart aching

Soul vanishing

Wound inflecting

Pain ravishing

TO

Dreams

Wishes

Thoughts

Feelings

Smiles

My conversation

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 08:17:00 +0000

The scene....
A misty background, a foggy filled air; looking around I are not sure if it is dark illuminated or light darkened, there is light yet there is no source, slowly I start making out walls and paths that look like corridors, further more I recognize what looks like doors randomly located along these corridor walls. Lastly I see a silhouette figure; I can't really make out the dimensions, as everything in that space seems to be from the same origin, the figure starts becoming more vivid, detaching itself from the surroundings, taking its own shape.

The figure....
As the shape slowly comes to live; I can tell that it is somehow tall, a bit rough at the edges, with what seems to be a mess of hair on that midsized head. I zoom closer, trying to make out the shadow, clearly its male (I just know), looks like he's wearing a coat (I come to this conclusion form the uniformity of the wear ending below the knee). The posture of the figure was not that of strength, of confidence, but of weakness, it looked old, looked tired.

Picture rotates, I now stand in front of the figure, I look for any facial distinction, yet I can't make out any, somehow I only feel that a sad look is drawn on his face

The time....
Time has no rule here, it's neither day nor is it night, I am always at the same moment indefinitely, yet we can see, feel things change around us!

The story….
"Ehm ehmm! Hello! May you help me" I say gently
The figure doesn't move or show reaction that he heard me, suddenly he starts moving fast towards one of the corridors and to a door, stops and it is as if he was looking back to me, then he opens and enters the room.

Heeding what seems to be an invite, I run to the corridor afraid that if I was to be late I would be lost. As I approach the corridor, the light pulsates more strongly and once I entered the light was fully on. Out of breath and what seemed like eternity, I take a glimpse back to where I was, and for my surprise there was a wall behind me, when was there a wall?

Hand on knob, I can hear my heart screaming, slowly I turn the knob and open the door, not forgetting to look for any signs, I can make out "Con......".

"Conscience??" I say to myself, "What does it mean? Where the hell am I?"
The room is pitch dark, oddly yet, at the far corner I can make out the shadow standing there

"Where is this? Who are you?” no answer.

"Why am I here? Am I dead"....still no answer. I gradually get more nervous and aggressively shout "Answer me Dammit", adding a little sneering a like a wounded camel

"Relax, no need to be afraid"
"I am Zelu Krej, you can call me Ze"

"Where is this?"

"This is nowhere and everywhere"

"I don't understand"

"You will eventually"

"Why am I here?"

"Ask yourself that, I've always been here"

"Have I been here before?"

"Yes"

"When?"

"Last time was a few years back, don't you remember"

"............."

" So why are you here Jerkulez?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things about you, you'd be surprised"

"..........."

"So what brings you here"

"I am not sure, I feel heavy at heart, with a burden that shoulders me motionless....."
"Go on...”

"I feel like I am not what I used to be, not the same person"

"You're not, you have changed, and all these times, change has taken its toll on you"

I stared blankly at the empty yet occupied space in front of me

"You are not as pure as you once were, something different is in you, and that's why you are here now"

"......I...I.." words get caught up midway through my vocal cords

"You have grown up, sacrificed old values for new, replaced good with bad"
"Forgot friends, neglected family and abandoned God"
"Your drive for ever more success, for more money, more women, made you change"
"You let go of principals, let go of love, left understanding, threw out compassion"
"Became more scenic, more wicked, more evil"

"St...stoop" I hardly mutter

"Remember that time you passed an old lady, trying to cross a street and you just went on your way as if nothing was, you didn't even think about it, before, you'd help, but now, you have changed"

"Pleaassee, sttooop"

"Remember another time, you didn’t pray so you can go to the movies, pray later you thought to yourself, and went to bed without praying it at the end"

".............."

As he continued slowly stated my wrongdoings, I felt weaker, more shameful, couldn't look up
"I'm not all bad, I helped that woman out, when she had a flat tire" I said in defense for myself

"And why did you do so? Wasn't it because you were flirting in process and not out of genuine good"

"Bu....but...but...I helped"

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH", the voice bombarded me, shattering all my defenses

I fell to my knee, hiding my face in my palms "Sorry...sorry...I am sorry"

"Remember 12/05/03, the birthday party........."
"Remember07/10/04, that time at the store......"
.
.
.
.
.
"Remember yesterday, the moment you said those words to your mother and how she cried"
"Look at me and tell me how you feel"

I hold up my face to my astonishment I find the once dark room lit up.
"How...?"

"Each time I stated a wrong deed, it was lifted and the room lit a bit"
"Now stand up, do you still feel burdened?"

I rose on my feet gradually, and an overwhelming feeling of liteness got over me

"Wow, I feel good, that's strange, I feel comforted, feel confident, feel like the old days"
"How did you do this....magic, hypnotism?"

"Conversation" the voice replied, as I made out a hint of a smile in the still dark face

"Am I dead? was that judgment day?"

"No, simply sleeping, simply dreaming"

"Where is this place?"

"The halls of your mind"

A still moment passed as we both looked each other directly, conveying more than words can ever say

".,..And who are you?"

"Doesn't the name Zelu Krej remind you of anything JerKuleZ “

Shockingly I stared as the figure reveals a mirror reflection of myself, but with a confident, strong, healthy stance, different than that of before.

"I am You" pausing for a while as this fact sank into my soul

"Thank you. I have gotten weak over the years for the lack of visits from you, got more burdened for every bad thing you did, and I thought it would be it for me. But after all that time, you finally showed up, again my thanks for giving me back my glory"

We share some laughs, some of the good memories and as I excuse myself to leave, he looks at me "Visit more often, don't let this happen again"

"Promise I will, take care and thank you"

Making my way out of the room, I close the door behind me and started heading towards the exit
Not forgetting, again I take a quick glimpse back, to read that what was on the door sign

"Ahh, that’s why, now I know, now I understand"

Camera rotates, then zooms on the door sign......
.
.
.
The sign read "Conscience"

Shabab Masry Gedan!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 17:12:00 +0000

El-Shab el-Misry (Masrawy youth), is an individual of such uniquenesses, that i felt i must dedicate an article about them (me being one in name). In this article we try to take a look at the genres of Shabab and the interrelations between them.

How many types of youth do we have? Answer: 4, there are four major kinds of El-Shab El-Misry; 1- Shab el-3rbyat, 2- El-Shab el-7ormagy, 3- Shab el2hawi and 4- Shab el-Kora; in turn these four encase some more sub-categories of Shabab, that we will mention later on

For the first type, all guys (well most of 'em anyway) love cars, but then you get the few who are not just into cars, they take things to a new level with mod-ing the car, fine tuning it, changing some of the features, and adding loud ass stereos to a car, as if you can only be hip if you have an enough loud system (earth quacking) in your car, side-effects when getting in direct contact with that music, include chest pains, temp deafness, and loss of precious IQ points, and I'm not gonna even mention the sing along and car dancing that some do....what is up with that!!!! Shabab el-Autocross is the sub category of this group (what better way to enjoy cars than to drag and drift race and have a body count of innocent bystanders)

Type 2, dedicate their lives solely for the purpose, the conquest of the most number of women possible in a given time (usually the teen years), and in this era, even morons are getting a piece of the action, just half-tuck, slide down, spike it and smile and your pretty much set, in your pursuit of meaningless goals, let me be very clear on this, NO MAN can deny his love for the female species, yet how we approach makes all the difference. A subsidiary of this genre is Shab el-party (youth who hit all parties because they know it's a good hunting grounds for single or flock of chicks).

In many cases Shab 1 might be Shab 2 as well, as proven ions ago, chicks and cars go hand in hand, the better your car (yes i do mean money), the more hot the chick you can score. In other cases Shab 2 tags along with Shab 1, with mutual benefit outlying their relationship, Shab1 provides the drive, Shab 2 provides (at least tries) the entertainment.

The most norm and common of them all is the type 3 dude; i mean who doesn't love soccer (besides Eskimo tribes, Penguins and the Americans) But that which seems normal, is yet the worst addiction possible, you start prioritizing life in accordance to your team's league schedule, given the chance to play real soccer or watch a game, you choose to watch the game and make the decision in a split second, stay in to watch those non important games and has his room and car painted / decorated in the teams color, when you know the names of the entire staff of coaches, then it's time to find another hobby to go along this one! A funny sub category of Shabab shine here, Shabab el-PS (those, sit hours to end playing the winning eleven, choosing the same teams every time non the less, tremendously enjoying themselves, weird enough, it seems this condition is only applicable to Arabs, whose sole reason for the PS2 pr PS3 is soccer, and that is just ignorant and pathetic)

The last of those, is something we Egyptians pride ourselves upon, to be able to sit and spend that much time in one place, namely a coffee house or the more common 2hwa, conversing in the matters of their morning lives, this place is where the shesha boy is one of your best friends, and the waiter is like the cousin you never had; when you start to discuss life with them, you know it's time to change and find a new place, a very evident example of this lifestyle would have to be "On-The-Run", which we actually treat as 'On-The-Stay', Now it's normal to just go out and spend your day at a gas station! Shabab el-WiFi are the sub born out of this groups womb (FaceBooking and playing online games (to use the speed), characterize those new modern coffee house customers)

Type 4 being a dominant behavior, connects with all types, more so with type 3 (as these guys tend to sit down to watch the games in groups at some place), Genre 4 guys tend to have the most info and the least actual experiences, and that is only achieved through stories of others

A non-honorable mention here is, Shabab el-mo'7adarat, but these don't deserve a place on this rooster, although they are loads of fun!

I myself, have times i fall into each one of those groups (not the last one though), yet I'm a more of do it all kinda guy, i have the car, got my lady friends, like the good amount of soccer and enjoy a good gathering in a good place.....A normal Egyptian yet not so Egyptian dude!

Life Lines!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 13:25:00 +0000

Born into this world, we come bare!
into this world, in nothing we care!

a clean slate, we are ready to learn
different lessons, and to examples we turn

shaped to mimic other's people thought
we eventually never do what we were taught

And pure and true we try to be
honest to oneself and for others to see

That one day we might all stand tall
and to our origins we will heed the call

In the end we all want to be proud
raise our heads and shout out loud

Through obstacles and pain we bled
And from the shackles of time we fled

Through life, memories were etched
the plans for next generations, sketched

Sound the horns, raise the flags
as we ready to leave, we leave our bags

Steps nearing our final rest
we tried, we really did out best

Out in the wind, water and land we walked
And one last time we gazed affront and talked

We were here, we lived good
on the stairs of glory we stood

A life with no title!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 19:58:00 +0000

Our lives like story books, gets filled up with pages as days pass by, and what makes it all count is the journey it took to fill up these pages, the filling up of these pages is an accomplishment in its own right, but what tops that, what makes life so much more, what makes ppl interested in reading this book, is the title it has.

Sadly, most of us fill up these pages, good or bad, fulfilling or rubbish, just for the sake of having a so called life, but are at a loss to what call this story of life, titles depend on the person conceiving the title, it might be the funny one based on what that X of ppl think, or the kind, mature, listener, understanding, caring, sensitive, mean, evil, ugly, pretty, even tall, fat or deformed. The titles are many and diversified and i think, are not book titles but are rather chapter headings in this person's story book of life

Titles are that of grandeur and altering nature, some titles are of that scale on a number of ppl, where you altered or effected the lives of these select ppl, like the one who did charity in the neighborhood, or someone that helps ppl of the block to anything.
And others are of this scale on all of humanity; A genius is always compared to Einstein, although there are ppl who surpass him in terms of raw IQ power; An Athlete is always compared to Mohammad Ali, Michael Jordan and now Tiger woods in term of perfection both physically and mentally in and outside of court; an entrepreneur or business man is compared to Bill Gates in terms of success; a public speaker is compared to Martin Luther King Jr; a humanitarian is compared to Mother Theresa, and I'm not gonna even mention religious figures, these were normal ppl who transcended the shackles of being mere humans and became icons... kinda like Bruce Wayne when he became Batman.

So its up to us how we finish this book of life, and what title we choose to put on it, if it is fake, with time it will fall, as you come to know the title of your book is not something u put there urself, but it is something that you earn.

Back Home!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 10:48:00 +0000

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have just landed in Cairo, thank you for travelling with ........ and hope you had a pleasant flight"

With this call, my suffering of 2.15 hrs of flight came to an end, as we prepped to get off the plane, all passengers were eager for a taste of the homeland; myself I was eager to just get off the damn plane. This had been the worst flight of my life.

It all started when I suddenly found that I had to leave the country I work in, to renew the visa and renter again later on, with one more day valid on the visa and that day being Friday (it was Thursday in the story timeline), I had to make haste to arrange plans to leave the country, so I called up someone I know, who then referred me to another, whom I talked to and then got referred to a third, after all the talking and explaining, I had managed to book a flight out of there on the same day, the flight would leave 11.55 pm, making it the last flight of the day.

So now relieved I was able to secure a ticket and that I’m good to go, I went home prepped a small bag (I was gonna stay a week at most), toke a shower and then went out to dine, went back home, slept for an hour, then woke up, showered, got dressed and started making my way to the airport. There I was appalled by how much ppl there was, massive lines on the counter and in every part of the airport, and here I thought, its night time, definitely gonna be better than morning, and oh man! was I wrong, it turn out the night flight is the worst flight ever, from the quality of passengers getting on board, to the number of plus accommodation the airplanes take, not to mention the luggage, I mean there where ppl having bags that weighed roughly as me (and I am heavy), whole families with gazillion bags, that not going to vacation or travelling (even if for a month); that is a complete transportation of you wardrobe, it was crazy.

Waiting in line, I turned my mp3 player on so I can deafen out the sounds around of fighting and socializing, until after an hour from standing in line I made my way into the counter (did I mentioned I only had 6 ppl before me), and to my luck, the plane got full and I was on standby, that's when I started getting irritated and paranoid I wasn’t gonna make it and I will break my visa curfew; after some talks and explaining how urgent this is, and seems everyone’s case was urgent, the airline ordered another plane be prepped for the same destination, and so things went back to normal and I went on with the proceedings, after 10 min doing everything else, I was finally at the gate, said my goodbyes to my bro and friend, got me a big ass coke from McD, waiting at the boarding gate and got on the corridor, once I came up on near the airplanes door, I was astonished to see different ethnic crew seating the ppl, and I was like, urrmm am I on the right plane, turns out I was, the airline company had so much passengers it actually rented a plane from another airline.

As I entered the plane, I could tell right away, that this won't be a comfy ride, the seats were M sized, while I am an XL individual, got to my seat, barely made myself fit, with one ass cheek out of the chair, and my whole body sitting mostly sideways.

One hour late, we got ready to take off; the whole thing was a mess with ppl having four bags with them and all trying to lodge them in the adjacent baggage compartment, which of course resulted in very funny moments, for me at least. The crew was dumbfounded at how the passengers were acting and clinging on to the bags, in the end they had to drop almost half the luggage ppl had so we can all be seated and ready to fly

The following moments are to painful to remember, so we will skip the horrendous flight, thank god it was a short one, at one moment a passenger was asking a crew member on the whole baggage thing, and they guy told him; simply it should be one bag per person, here everyone has more than 2 (I only had my laptop with me, and that’s only because its not safe to put in the bag)

Oh yeah, the seatbelt didn’t fit, I am big, but that never happened before, one of the smallest planes ever.

As the wheels hit the ground, suddenly a passenger popped up and started to make his way to the restroom; the crew stood there for a sec not comprehending, and then attacked the guy obstructing his path and shouting, telling him to sit his ass down, the guy is fighting back, he needs to go to the bathroom badly, saying that we landed, a crew member was telling the passengers to sit down, it’s still dangerous, and true to his word the plane made an abrupt break and half the passengers knocked their head, or fell.

In the midst of all that I was laughing so hard, never had I seen stupidity from the ppl flying, or poor handling from the crew (the landing sucked big time), luckily the exit door was next to my seat and so I made my way out fairly quickly, as I stood there for a brief moment to breath in my country's air, pollution struck with a funky smell, that made my nose twitch;
also I had imagined the scenario (overwhelming number of ppl) and had someone wait for me to speed up the process, once that was done in like zip minute, we moved on to the conveyor belt to get our bags, after a whole hour, what I feared came true, the bags were not on this plane (I later got my bags; 2 days later)

And so I went home 5 am in the morning, this had to be one of the longest days ever, if not the most tiring day of my life.

Almost a week into this sudden (thank god for it) vacation, I was able to get my bags, see my friends I left, check up on my family, go the beach, listen to the music, eat our food, feel our ppl; and remember all over again; why I left home in the first place

My life is pointless

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 10:08:00 +0000

This following piece was inspired by my little bro's loss of direction in life, looking for a summer job and not landing one, he just kept on saying, i feel piontless, it is all pointless....and there it hit me.......

My life is pointless
My life is cruel
i saw someone i know
working i am sure
He smirked at me on his way
He was with another fool
But its no fun for that
Cuz i have got no plan

I'm pointless, i'm pointless
i'm pointless, i know
I saw his face in the place he worked
and i don't know what i'll do
Cuz i'll never work, i've no clue

As you can tell, the format is that of "You´re Beautiful". just made a lot of sense then and we had a lauf when i told him :D

The reason why? What else, Egyptians of course! Cntd..

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 18 May 2008 18:42:00 +0000

Here are some more...

Things Egyptians are responsible for
-WW1, WW2, and probably WW3
-Tom Cruise lost his mind over Scientology
-The nuclear bomb
-Darfur crisis
-Mario character
-Danica Patrick finally won a major race
-Bill Gates lost his place as the richest man alive for the first time in 13 years
-Heath Ledger's death
-Kill Bill 2, not Kill Bill 1
-The fall of troy
-Iron Maiden
-Big foot
-Will Smith always plays the role of the superhero that saves the day
-300

Things Egyptians are not a part off. But Aliens!
-Fool (Beans)
-Spetospates (Eldebana)
-keliobatra cigarettes
-Winning the ACN 6 time total , twice back to back
-AL-Zamalek
-Playing Pulp fiction in cinemas after montaging and rearranging the sequence of the movie so ppl can understand it
-krkr wi all lemby movies
-Egyptian labor is cheaper than Indian in the IT field
-Adel Imam kissing almost all Arab actresses in his movies
-Girls now are more nude and free...yay for guys

The reason why? What else, Egyptians of course!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 17 May 2008 19:21:00 +0000

The following piece is based on fake, totally untrue, non-occurring circumstances!
As for why i chose this topic to write about?, well what else could it be, Egyptians of course.

Things Egyptians are responsible for
-The Tibet problem with China
-The moon landing
-The Eiffel tour
-The statue of liberty
-The oil price crisis
-The 9/11 attack
-That Bush was elected president for the second term
-The tsunami that hit Asia couple of years ago
-Hillary Clinton is still in the race for presidency
-Joey got canceled after 2 seasons
-The war in Iraq
-The Michael Jackson freak show
-South park
-Manchester United declared champions of the premiere league 2 season back to back
-New England Patriots lost the super bowl after an incredible record breaking season
-Diana got killed (that one might actually be true :D)
-Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt broke up
-Angelina Jolie is pregnant again
-PS3

Things Egyptians are not a part off. But Aliens!
-The driving crisis in the middle east
-The bad perception of Egyptians as labor force
-The pyramids
-Dr. Ahmed Zewail
-Crappy Arabic movies that have the same story line or stolen from foreign ones
-The same ear deafening sense dulling love songs, with no topic but that
-The bread problem with no quality and lines half a km long
-The blood banks with contaminated samples
-The huge numbers of non working grads
-Bogi wi tamtam
-Raaft el-hagaan, the most successful infiltration spy case into Mossad
-The victory of the 6th of October
-Al-Ahly football club
-The unprecedented level of professional corruption, that now they export corruption specialists to those who need them!
-The fuel price waver, that many now just feel like they should die, or better yet he -the one responsible- dies
-The masked democracy that is dictatorship.
-The last 30 years of rulership with the same guy in place.

This list can go on forever for both ways, feel free to add what u think! :)

The visit!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 21:22:00 +0000

My heart starts pounding louder and louder as I grow nearer and nearer of my destination, a fateful meeting it will become, a meeting to decide how tomorrow will be, and how today will end!

I mean for me, it has to be the most dreaded visit of them all, yet it is something I must do, and eventually so does everyone too.

How is it possible to go in and come out the same man or person you were before?
A life changing experience that can either comfort you with a great smile or leave you with so much pain, yet you come back again, hoping that this pain will go away!

As I make my way to my destination, at the last few final steps I come upon a door, the door that I fear but it nevertheless welcomes me. I knock and the door opens slowly, and with a quick peak I take a glimpse of what is to come, and where I am….I mumble my name, as if I don’t want to them to hear me, and so I sat on the chair closest to me before I collapsed

After quite some time, being all tension, tapping my legs like a crazy rooster, I heard a voice talking to me. But to my fragile mind, that sounded like a think voice from hell muttering the following words “Bwahaha, you poor soul, GO! Meet your doom”

My heart beats faster, starts skipping a beat, the hair on my arm and on the back of my head starts standing up, as if I was electrocuted, and the sweat glands start doing their job effectively despite this cold weather.

“Oh God” I think to myself, make this an easy visit, and help me through it.

Better yet make this all go away, I will never be that careless again!

Slowly gathering what’s left of my courage, I stood my ground, psyched myself up and knocked on the second door.
"Come in…..Sit" I hear the voice say vaguely. "On the chair there, relax and get comfortable, this is going to take some time”

Domdom, Domdom, beats pulsating in my chest, starts ringing in my head as I clearly make the sound of my heart trying to rip my cage open, tucked my shirt in to hold my stomach, my tummy rumbles as I stumble, making my way to the chair, the screams in my head, wanting to burst and come out as I hardly try to suppress them, so I start biting my lips to stop myself from cracking down and weeping like a baby

“Be strong” I told myself, “You can tough this out, be a man, you can do it” and all that came to mind was the mental image of me screaming like a little girl “Naahh, sniff… I don’t want to…aaa3333.”

Jedi mind tricking myself into calming down, I restored my breathing to its normal pace; a mere 115 beats per minute; I said a little prayer, forced on a fake smile and continued on my way to meet my fate.

As I finally rest on the chair, a figure starts approaching me, clinching on my seat and holding tightly with my grips, the figure comes close and starts looking at me with experienced eyes
"We have a big problem don’t we?" he asks.
'I hope not' I whispered
"Great! Now get ready!" he said, as I helplessly I sat on my chair, he grabbed a big ass syringe in one hand and a drill in the other and starts it up; the hissing sound, strikes me like a knife stabbing my brains, my conscience slips slowly as the smell of burnt flesh nauseates my senses

And after what seems like eternity, I hear the liberating words, “We’re done for now, I’ll see you next week”

..
Man I hate going to the dentist!!!

Fade away

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 22:12:00 +0000

Can't breath
Without seeing ur face
Can't go on
Without feeling ur grace
Can't live
Since u left without a trace

Oh! hope, i have lost
Dreams, that will never show
Reasons, that are no more
And u fade away

The sound of ur voice
The song, that is you
The gaze of ur beauty
The picture, that is you
The look of ur eyes
The smile that is you

Oh! hope i have lost
Dreams are no more true
Reasons are forever gone
When you fade away

And then it hurts no more
A memory far away
A feeling that's so over
My feelings, i now own
My breath, now i can take

Oh! hope i have regained
Dreams, i will hold
Reasons, i give again
After you fade away