The Pathetic Ocean

There used to be an ocean far away from here , where people just go and weap infront of it
everyday people would go and cry till the tears mix with the rain and the demons fire get extinguished by the ocean breeze, and then people would come and go after being washed away from their pain and sorrow. No one till now knows why it was called the pathetic ocean, maybe because people who go there are so pathetic to do anything but cry their tears out along its waves and under its rainy sky

There she came and took her sorrows inside her bag and went were people told her she should go,
along the shore she started to cry beside those who were crying and then started feeling the relief she missed long ago, seems like the perfect place and the perfect retreat she was looking for along the shore of the pathetic ocean, she kept on crying until the memories started running away from her head to toe and the pain seemed the only thing that was left to go and there she's crying the hardest for some reasons she know and others she didn't know. At this very moment, she forgot who she were or what she did. Just a moment of reflection beside the pathetic ocean where people come and go and they no longer feel pathetic, demotivated or lost , where the beauty of nature and the water from heaven fall from the sky to wash away all that was left behind, there she stood bare feet looking at the sky and the ocean in-front her. After few hours she took her empty bag and got her shoes on and went back home, there her past stood by the
door and asked her where she's been, she said crying in-front of the pathetic ocean.

There are no words that can be as descriptive to how am feeling on earth now as those few lines. Those are the starting lines of the Novel (Movie) : The Perks Of Being A Wallflower 

12-12-12 (Are we there yet?)

This blog used to be called the voice within , because i thought i won't share what is in it with anyone and consequently it ended up spreading between everybody i know. In the end here i am with several empty blog posts, The fever of writing decayed dramatically by the effect of knowing that he/she will be reading it , he/she that i meet at work or outdoors, but this blog post is special , it brings me back to the real me to the voice within.

Ok where shall we start back to the days when i was a kid i used to dream of the future with all its tiny details things that could happen, the dreaming phase of my life started very long ago even back to the primary stage days when kids used to play football i used to sit in that little corner looking at them and thinking of the future and future as always can be expressed by numbers ; numbers that express days years and moments .. moments that we live and we can never forget , back to those days i used to believe that the future is so far away to even imagine it with all its details, calculations were made in my head always ended on that day 12-12-12 this day was so special to me simply because back then when i used to calculate my status it ended up that i'd be 24 years old and oh boy 24 years old was a digit a very big digit to me back then , i used to believe that by being 24 years everything would be perfect and the pieces of puzzle would have been complete pieces like i got a job i got a car , i even got engaged finished college , questions about how would my life look like at this age was one of the most complex questions and motivating ever since then.

Even when i grew older and several moments of my life in this world  used to end up by mathematical calculations to that day 12-12-12 , that day which is actually today ! yup that awkward moment when you realize that today is actually 12-12-12 and a question that pops to my mind at this exact moment (Are we there yet?)  Did time pass so quickly or we didn't live life to the fullest , why was this day popping in my mind to be so special and am i there yet to where i dreamed i'd be ? Here i am 24 years old but are we there yet ? why was the peak of my dreams is to be what i am already today , why didn't they teach us to dream bigger larger than the normal. Why is it while being kids no one ever taught us to dream bigger than just being normal. Why did my mathematical calculations end up today and couldn't go further.

Maybe today will be a really good day to just sit and reflect and as usual ask myself questions about where i am and where i wanted to be and where i want to be , maybe those special days in our lives that are marked in our memories are meant to be for this reason which is reflecting, may God guide us to the correct destination and to be honest looking back at my life today it's been a worth the ride journey الحمد لله.

New chapter (22-2-22) ...... 

Lemon Juice

He used to hate this moment of the day when he wakes up in the early morning to find a cup of lemon juice on the table ready for him to drink, His parents legend say that if he drinks this lemon juice he'll be cured from the evil monsters that he watches in the cartoons. He used to love how it tastes,how the sparkle of the lemon in the cup catch his eye, but he just hated the fact that he has to drink it. It's an order and orders must be obeyed. From his young child-hold he hated orders,rules and everything that would tell him what to do and what not to do like don't stay up late, you must get up early, you must get an A, you must .. you must .. A word created a denial deep inside himself. As years of life pass by, the importance of Lemon juice started falling down the interest of his parents, he no longer wakes up to find the monster free juice on the table. His rate of drinking lemon decayed heavily as he reached Secondary stage of his education from daily basis to monthly basis, he enjoyed the freedom of space he has, he no longer need to drink lemon.

"Monsters, were you kidding me and fooling me as a kid, i won't drink lemon again"

He stopped drinking lemon for a long period , until one day he caught a really bad flu and he started to realize that the evil monsters were microbes and lemon was Vitamin C that would protect him from getting infected by the monstrous disease, later in his life he would wake up early and make a lemon juice everyday.

"Dad, why do you wake up everyday and make me a lemon juice ? " His son asked him with a childish look on his face.

"Ohh son, haven't i told you the story of lemon and the evil monsters" He replied.

Evil Batman

We all believe in super heroes but what if batman is an evil character and Bruce Wayne is just a person who wants fame and glory, what if the news spread all over Gotham city that batman wants to ruin the city and he's using his power just to outcast the criminals; so he can be the only powerful person in the city and then ruin it. Why do we believe in Batman and we have Gotham army and finest policemen; what do those people lack over batman. It's Bruce Wayne who is spending his days taking his parents vengeance and he doesn't care about the city or its people. Batman is not a good person there's no good person that wear a mask, he's doing all this to satisfy his ego, he doesn't love this city or the poor people; he lived his life in the Wayne palace and under the money of his father's empire. People shall unite and bring this outlaw down for the sake of this city and for the sake of our children ... for the sake of the innocent police men who lose their lives everyday in the adventures of this super hero .. Batman is not a super hero ... He's the villain and Gotham needs to wake up before its too late.

My note :  Even with few words batman can change from a super hero to a villain and that's what we're doing these days in our city of Gotham sorry Egypt

Incoming call

She steps into the cafe' with her right foot as she always used to do alongside his footsteps, but for the first time she steps in on her own. She sets her eyes on their favorite place beside the window where they used to curve their dreams as they watch people come and go. The waiter comes and trying to hide his question greets her, she replies with a smile "One hot chocolate ... Only one"  and she starts looking with hesitant eyes towards her mobile phone waiting for it to ring. Underneath her tired eyes lies the shadow of her past and the unforgettable moments they had together. As people come and go she starts drinking her hot chocolate and reflections of his presence starts coming and going. "You told me you're going to love me forever .." He promised her love and happiness ever after, but here she's left trying to remember a past that didn't last. She starts a flash back of their wedding, love letters, honey moon and the brick by brick home they built together. The fairy tale story they kept carving with their ink and paper seems to stop at this chapter. "Something is wrong .. " She says with a deep sigh that people around her started to notice her disturbance. why does their love no longer feel the same, Is it the life that became a burden on their back. Today she decided to visit the place where it all started where they used to meet looking for answers or maybe drinking some glimpses of their love story that were lost alongside the waves of life. She didn't tell him she's going today she simply left home undecided where her footsteps will lead her.Her phone suddenly starts to ring and his name alongside their wedding picture appears, with hesitant hands moving towards the red button she takes a deep breath and press "Ignore"

The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button (#)

    BENJAMIN
                  I never met my father.



                                     

74   CONTINUED:                                                      74

                                CAPT. MIKE
                  You're a lucky bastard! All
                  father's want to do is hold you
                  down!.. Out on my father's boat,
                  working da two-a-days... This
                  littl' fat bastard, "tug Irish,"
                  what they calls them. They say
                  the Irish the only one's stupid
                  `nough to work a tug. Them and
                  the Portuguese, as we all know how
                  stupid them Portuguese is. I
                  fin'ly get up the nerves and tell
                  him... "I don't wanta spend da
                  rest of my life on a goddamn
                  tugboat...!" You know what I'm
                  sayin'?

                                BENJAMIN
                  You didn't want to spend the rest
                  of your life on a tugboat.

                                CAPT. MIKE
                  Absolutely, damn right! So you
                  know what my father says? He says
                  "Who the hell you think you are?"
                  "What the hell you think you can
                  do?" I tell him. "Well if you
                  askin' -- I want to be a artist."
                  He laughs. He says, "If God
                  wanted you to be an artist he
                  would made you one." "God wanted
                  you to work a tugboat just like
                  me, and that's what you goin' to
                  do?" "Now, if I ever hear you
                  mention art again, I'll throw you
                  overboard!" Well, I went and I
                  show him... I made myself an
                  artist...

     And he suddenly takes off his shirt, pulls down his
     pants... And we see he's covered, from head to toe, with
     "his artwork," and incredible array of tattoos...

                                 CAPT. MIKE (CONT'D)
                  A tattoos artist...! I puts every
                  one on myself!

     And they look it, upside down sideways and backwards...

                                CAPT. MIKE (CONT'D)
                  You have to skin me alive to take
                  my art away from me now! When I'm
                  dead I'm going to send him my arm!
                                (MORE)
                                                       (CONTINUED)

                                                                 55.

74   CONTINUED: (2)                                              74
                             CAPT. MIKE (CONT'D)
               Don't let anyone tell you
               different! You got to do what you
               meant to do! And I happen to be a
               god-damned artist!

                             BENJAMIN
                    (stating the obvious)
               But you're a tugboat captain.

خرج ولن يعد

He never understood the meaning of how to be alive, he used to believe that everything happens for a reason and that everything just happen without us knowing or working hard to let it happen. He never stopped one day believing that life is perfect and his country is utopia, as days of his life started moving forward alongside the clock ticks of tomorrow, the perfect un-perfect is all he started to discover within himself and those around him. The bubble he used to be buried inside started leaking some air in and here he's now watching it as it's preparing for its final wish ... to blow away.He studied what they told him to study, wasted his life waiting for people to clap their hands for his life performance but they never asked him what he really wanted .. he himself never knew. His anger to himself started recently when a single accident changed his life.He was crossing the street he used to cross everyday, not knowing or not focusing he still can't remember except that as fast as a train car was in-front of his eyes, he took a deep breath and had nothing to do but to close his eyes and get ready to leave his life. Silence was all over the place, not aware what happened he realized that the car just passed few millimeters away from him. Not feeling any part of his body, he went back home. For the first time of his life he never stopped staring at the ceiling of his room and all his life events started projecting in black and white over his room's ceiling. He started to realize that all this life he's been living a life of no value or meaning and an idea started prevailing from his head to his feet. An idea that was so solid yet so volatile that it couldn't leave him and he couldn't just hush it away like he always did whenever he had such kinds of thoughts."Allaho Akbar Allaho Akbar" The fajr azzan started mixing with his decision, he got his bag ready filled it with what could make him alive for few days, left everything that could attach him to the invaluable past. "Teet...Teet....Teet" His parents woke up to his mobile alarm that didn't stop ringing, they thought he forgot it at home but something just didn't feel right as they closed his room door. They found that big stamped paper with only 3 words "خرج ولن يعد"

Time

As you're reading these words right now eyes set on a laptop screen or a mobile screen. You may feel weird reading this post but i want to transfer to you a feeling that words can't describe, this feeling is the feeling of time.

I understand while reading now you can be curious or don't care but while am seeing the words bar moving as i type on my keyboard, i suffer from the feeling that this is just a snapshot of my life. Like my life is a string of photos attached together. I still remember seeing snapshots in school , college and finally at my work. During these snapshots i always longed for the future snapshots of life and all these snapshots collected together create what we call our life. When my mind stops working i focus on the snapshot and replace it with another one and this make my whole body shiver ... i really for the first time not able to transfer what i feel these days to words, but just to conclude, Life is a series of snapshots connected together and that's all i can think of as if now.

0x18

When i turned 18 years old a friend of mine sent me a song called "18 till i die" and i still remember this moment that i picked up the song and wondered how can someone remain 18 till he dies. 6 years later while celebrating my 24th birthday i started to realize that if we tweak the number from decimal representation to Hexadecimal the result will be 0x18 ... That maybe our age isn't about numbers,it's about perspective.

Sand Castles

He took off his slippers at the entrance gate, he moves and starts to feel the shiver beneath his feat up to his eyes; the moment he sets eyes on the vast blue sea. The sun is about to rise and nearly no one is as early as him to watch this view. He keeps walking and alongside his thoughts are childhood memories that lasted each summer at the same place, he could hear the horns of the past, the smile of the neighbors and the loud call from his father.

"Come here to build together a sand castle" His father's voice is still ringing in his ears and he still moves with hesitant steps towards the sea getting closer and closer as water starts to greet his bare feet. His white hair starts to move along the wind and starts to see his reflection on the water, his firm looks mixed with the wisdom of years he spent in his life. At this moment, for the first time he starts to realize how time passed so fast as the winds keep hitting his face and suddenly he decides to give up the thought and throw himself on the sand and with his face facing the sea in-front of him, he feels like a video tape is being played on his cinema of life, he starts hearing words like.

" Congratulations, you're now a doctor" 
" Congratulations, you can kiss the pride" 
" Congratulations, you're now a father"

He takes a deep sigh of pain and relief, and starts building sand castles as he always used to do as a kid, the thought that he can go back in time engrave his heart. The sun starts to rise and reflections start falling on his childish work of art, he remembers each moment now clearly. How life can seem so complex while so simple as a sand castle with all its gates, but at any moment a small amount of sea water can blow everything away. How when he was a child used to build sand castles and imagine his future,his dreams and his fears. He always used to ask questions like what would i be? , who would i marry? and how would my life turn out to be? And used to represent each question with a castle in his big sand castles of life and dreams. And here he's answering the questions he always longed for its answers .. question by question, castle by castle.

"Father, why are you up so early" He hears a childish voice in the background. yet,not able to differentiate between his memories and reality. He turns his face and see his son looking at him straight to the eyes.

"I am the one who should ask you why are you up so early" He said.

With a smile his son replies "You told me, you're going to teach me today how to build sand castles"

Death and all his friends

Death and all his friends, after searching about this Coldplay song meaning, it turned out that the main reason for this song is optimism and that we shouldn't be following the path of death and all his friends.

I'm tired of waking up everyday to a news that someone died , someone i never knew but was so close to heart that it hurts so bad through your ears, lungs, soul and finally your eyes can start to show tears that you try so hard to hide. This year i feel am reading everyday about death and all his friends, fear, anger and pain.

And the thought leads me to more terrible thoughts, the problem i found is that not me only who has this feeling, it's spreading in the whole generation veins like blood. Maybe death is the only fact we have to face one day ... The thought from a positive side can bring you this inner peace, that what could be worse than death to fear and you feel that you're so ready to face it. The thought itself is leading me to many answers to questions i never understood. So ending up with Coldplay words.

 So come over, just be patient, and don't worry 
So come over, just be patient, and don't worry

الهم ارحمنا اذا صرنا الى ما صاروا اليه

The Coffee Shop

He starts to look at his watch, the seconds arm is moving too slow for him, he keeps looking and looking but it's just buried in its slow motion and silent ticks. He moves his eyes towards the door, still no one comes in except weird faces he's never seen before. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion for him as every second that pass took its decision to torture him.It's already 10 minutes away from 1 pm. He wished she'd come early but seems that she won't. And the toughest assumption of all, if she don't come at first place.

" I invite you to coffee at 1 pm at the coffee shop you told me about"

 He remembers how he told her those words mixed with a feeling of hope and fear. How he stumbled upon her car door and every inch of his body was shivering.The fear of rejection was the only thing he could see in her eyes and without giving her lips the chance to reply he said.

"I'll be waiting for you" 

And he just turned his back and started walking away not giving her the chance to give him a solid reply. He starts to look at the people coming in/out of the place and with every person a heart beat mixing with a clock tick rocks his heart. It's already 1:00 pm now and as the people talk and the music gets louder no one could hear his silent looks or his worries, he starts wasting his time by counting the number of people in the place, play games on his mobile, but every single action seems like eternity.

It's 1:10 pm and a sign of failure starts to overlook his face, he smiles a desperate smile and say to his aching soul.

"At least I tried" 

He takes on his jacket carries his wallet shuts his mobile phone and leaves towards the door, at this very moment he could see her face sparkling all over the place, surrounding the environment with joy. with a shy smile she looks at him and say.

"Sorry, I'm late"

My Pen

The empty paper in-front of me with its large width and height and vast empty space between its colored lines, I’m preparing to have it filled. But, my pen just can’t seem to obey my will to write.

“I command you to write”  

I said with a loud voice coming from deep silence within, but it just does not seem to be willing to fill that vast space between the lines on my empty paper of thoughts and dreams. I understand that it doesn’t want to write as a sign of sadness to what’s going on inside my head. It keeps writing words and me at the end of the line put a full stop and then stretch a long line to erase what I wrote. It got bored from my excessive hesitation and confusion … maybe.

“Ok let’s make a deal. I promise I won’t tell you stop this time”

The words you’re reading now are my trial to persuade my pen’s ego to write, a trial to form a peace treaty between us.

“You forgot that I wrote with you all my glorious pieces of art, how fame was everywhere and fans gathered to catch their own printed copy, but forever your version was the most valuable.”

 It’s been few months now and I’m admitting to myself that am still facing this writer block, the silence between the words I write, the images that seem clichéd and the thoughts that just can’t break its cage. I understand my pen got fed-up from me trying to please everyone and not please myself with the words I want to say the most, I understand this and am trying to break the silence, but sometimes words are better left caged.

“Why stop now? I want to write you know, please don’t leave me alone in-front of this piece of paper, I know I broke my promise with you to always write and not to care for what people say, but sometimes life doesn’t go this way, sometimes people can’t handle the true words and they enjoy the clown life”

I know I promised my pen I won’t stop this time, but I just can’t seem to handle it now. I already broke my first promise. There’s a battle inside my head as am asking myself what to write and what not to write … Who cares anyway … I guess it’s about time for my pen to stop and for me to try again later.

First Dance

As i see her tears fall down on her soft cheeks, i start to wonder why they're falling. I can see people walking in all directions but i can't stop looking at her face, she seems to be crying her heart out. I try to uncover her sadness with a faded smile but she ignores me, she just keeps on crying and walking alongside the crowd. The streets are covered with flags and cameras just won't stop flashing. I start to realize that they're all crying from the bottom of their hearts. I reach for the youngest child in the crowd holding his little flag and eating cotton candy and ask him "What's going on here ?" , he just looks at me with a childish smile and starts waving the flag harder. I start hearing speeches and words that sounds so close to the heart like "La Illah Illa Allah" and a deep shiver keeps rocking me. I don't know why but i feel so light and weightless and without any understanding i just keep walking along the crowd and my eyes can't stop falling on her face. It's my first time since i knew her to see her that angry from inside, how the rage just make her face lifeless, i remember how we met for the first time at college and how eyes talked louder than words and how every word seemed to be useless with our secret language of love. The last time i called her was yesterday , still her words ringing in my ears "Please don't go out today" and i remember how i told her that for what's life worth , if we keep on living in fear. I remember i told her not to worry , what's the worst that could happen." If i die, i'll go to heaven and we'll have our first dance there" and these words ended the discussion. Those were the last words i tell her , but i can't seem to remember exactly what happened afterwards. All i remember is that i went out with friends to a protest.

I start to understand now where i am, am actually inside that dark box covered with the Egyptian flag, it's dark from inside the same as yesterday , foggy smoke and bullet shots were all over the place. I can't remember who or where but all i remember is the loud screams that turned to silence , the fire lights that suddenly turned to darkness, the warmth of the square to the cold of the soul. And here i am being held by the crowds going to face my fate. I feel warm and happy as the future start to unleash in-front of me, i see that little child holding the cotton candy carrying on what we started and i see peace , gardens and butterflies all over this place.

I take a deep breath as i start to see sounds from heaven calling my name, I urge them for one last wish, i try walking but i can't, i just keep on flying till i reach her ears and i whisper "Still waiting to have our first dance"

That Line

I don't know but now i remember very much the moment, heart beats my first job interview. I was having an interview in one of the biggest companies in the world, and here he came the young manager who's going to evaluate me, with his firm eyes yet casual looks.We kept talking the usual, salary, expectations, job role and in the end he took a look at my CV, then told me :

"That line, you should remove that line" 

I took a deep breath I know very well my CV, why did he ask me to remove that line specially, and the words written on that line were :

"Hobbies : Writing English short stories and poetry" 

A thousand thoughts passed through my mind at that moment, that maybe he didn't want me to be a project manager and show a sign of weakness in my CV. Maybe he hates writing and writers or maybe this part won't add value to my CV. After 2 years now am remembering this situation and i thought why didn't i even object or say something that can make me resolve my misery.

The only thing that i understand clearly now is that sometimes engineering and writing contradicts, you can't be a writer who talks about emotions , feelings , rainbows and butterflies. Then at the end of the day you solve an exponential numerical differential equation. I understand you can't have feelings and emotions if you want to meet company policy, targets, deadlines and KPI's. But still why can't we remain humans who live a normal life , i can be both a successful writer and an engineer. The only thing am sure of is that your career path has nothing to do with writing, because writing is the thing you enjoy doing while not working, the light to your heart and soul ... and this shouldn't be involved in our cruel work life, cause work life can stinks it.

I still remember my reply to him that day as i took a deep breath and with a faded smile i told him

"Ok, I'll remove it"

You

I can clearly understand how bad it feels for you to be in this situation once again, the same situation that we passed through together. I can understand your fear, anger and most importantly pain. I can see through your eyes the reflections of the past and the hope for the future. Within your small night dream, i could hear your voice, calling for help or maybe life. You've been always trying to carve the clouds with your story or live a life full of glory. It's been always the same story with you and her, you quit and she moves on and the ball just keeps rolling and the players keep on playing in the game. It's been always the spectator role you enjoyed the most, the part where you raise your hands up and cry tears of joy for watching a good game. You tried so hard to convince yourself you're not a good player in this game of life, but who puts the rules of good and bad anyway. I'm the closest to you and I've always been there to hear you, now it's time for you for once to listen and stop talking. It's time for your soul to touch the ground and feel the earth beating while revolving around the sun and the stars. The stars you always enjoyed watching everyday of your life. I can clearly understand how bad it feels for you , and who else would do ... If it's not me talking to you.

25 hours

He raised his hands up to the sky above and prayed God to grant him his only wish , the wish he always wanted ... It was a rainy dark night and as if the doors from heaven were open to hear his wish. His wish "25 hours" he wished to have 25 hours in his day instead of 24 hours.

At the following morning, he woke up to his buzzing alarm clock and working hard to reach the silent button. For the first time he looks at his clock and see a +1 button , feeling weird he press on it to find out that the hours arm of the clock swings back 1 hour and the button becomes disabled. He understands now clearly that his wish has come to life, he now has 25 hours a day and the first decision he took is to sleep this extra hour. After 1 hour exactly the alarm clock started buzzing once again but this time he was so relieved , relaxed and was happy to press on its silent button.

At the following morning , he woke up to the buzzing alarm clock and now he can see his magic +1 button not disabled , he decides to use it later ... so he heads to work and remember that deadline he's having and use the +1 button but still this didn't help him , he kept working all day and finally went home dead tired and slept.

At the following morning , so tired from yesterday night. he pressed on the +1 button to sleep this extra hour ,the hour he always wished for. But seemed that it's not working to help him out. He only wanted this extra hour to do other stuff than his work like playing sports , meeting friends or reading a good story. But since he was granted this 1 extra hour , he's been using it in either sleeping or working.

At the following morning , he woke up , headed to the same place and raised his hands up to the sky above and prayed God to grant him his only wish , the wish he always wanted. His wish "26 hours".

The Watch

He was that someone, you'd eventually fear talking to. He was so smart yet underneath that smart soul lies a lonely one. His young age that seemed to be the age of having fun was different to him, he was enjoying the silence of loneliness and avoiding the bitterness of the loud company. He enjoyed drawing patterns within his small imagination and creating cubes within his soul. His imagination was beyond definition with characters creation that no one could ever imagine. He was the kind of guy anyone wouldn't expect that much to be within him, he just kept hiding beneath his imaginary glasses.

In his lonely imaginative world he created, he always faced that bitter moments where he had to disconnect from it and engage with people in reality, so he created the simplest ways of escaping that fact, that method was simply looking at his watch , yes his watch , that complicated device he bought specially for this purpose; which is escaping the crowds. Whenever he's in a middle of a complex conversation or sitting in a party or walking among the crowds, He'd just look at his watch and starts playing with its buttons. He used to play that stop watch game where he had to match numbers like 1:1:1 2:2:2 or keeps counting the minutes or the second , for him it gave him intense relief to be looking at his watch rather than looking at people in the eyes.

She was that girl that can bring anyone down,  with her long hair and brown eyes , no one was able to reach her. She was the school princess. He knew very well who she was; he actually made her the princess of his imaginary world and for him the only way to re-act whenever she passed beside him was what he got used to .. the perfect escape ... look at the watch. He tried so hard to stop himself from doing so but it was so hard for him to even do another reaction to express his feelings. The same scene kept repeating several times and still all the words were left unspoken like the clock digits remained silent, and his eyes never stopped falling on his watch.

Until the day came when he was determined to not look at the watch and look into her eyes, she passed his way like everyday and he couldn't resist but look at his watch , but only this time she smiled to him that heavenly smile and asked him "What time is it now?"

Regret

As she hears the words of her typewriting on the keyboard, she stares away and starts to see her reflection on the screen, she can see her dark hair and not so much make up, and the firm looks on her eyes with the dark shadow of tiredness beneath her eye lashes. It’s

Already 7 pm and she hasn’t left office yet.

On her desk, lies her name tag engraved with the words “Amira” or Princess but she was no princess to anyone, she likes to be noticed as the royal queen. She’s the one who’s actually in control of how everything goes here. In her royal palace, beside the certificates and medals, lies only one sign of weakness that she couldn’t give up. It’s the small wooden hearted picture frame with the photo of her son. She haven’t seen him for few months now, he has followed her stubborn path and is now following his dreams. She admits she’s been cruel to him when she gave up her family for the sake of her career glory and he’s now doing the same to her. She misses him in every word a book can describe, she feels lonely as wrinkles start to appear on her face with every month she spends on her own.

With all these images passing through her head, there remains one email she always keeps in her draft folder, an email with only two words, it’s been there for years and she regrets not having it sent long ago. At this very moment, she realizes it’s time to press “Send” to an email with subject and text “I quit”.

Thank you

To my barnaaaar , thanks for being always a faithful reader to my blog

الحقنة

"Ouch......" he wished he could scream at the top of his voice but he couldn't, how could he scream while being captivated in her presence, today he completes 1 month and 4 continues syringe shots for his alleged disease. Looking at her face he can see nothing but a shy smile on her face. It was his choice to pretend that he has a simple disease that needs these shots , he spent days and nights wandering at the vast space and counting the stars and trying to find a way to send her his heart message , until he's not sure whether the devil or angels from heaven inspired him to pretend that he's sick and this was the only way for his eyes to be set on hers. In her pharmacy. The syringe shot day or in other words the day of "الحقنة" was like a festival, he could see kids screaming at the top of their voice from pain but it was all set aside; when she started asking him how's he doing. As he saw the syringe getting ready, all he could think about was the moment he's gonna really get cured from his real disease. After taking the shot he becomes too paralyzed to even say "Bye" but today is the last shot day , and to himself he understood very well that it's his last shot and his final shot to win her heart. Getting ready to leave the pharmacy for the last time and with pain both in his hands and heart he leaves, like the  warrior who left the battle field injured,lost and most importantly defeated. As he walks one minute away from the pharmacy he hears her voice and he feels as if he's dreaming .. "Sir .. " .. "Sir .. " he turns around to see her face walking from far behind and the barriers all broke in-front of him and all he could do is set eyes on hers .. She said in a shy voice "I made a mistake while giving you the last shot ,i'm so sorry can you pass by tomorrow and i'll give you the correct injection" He smiled and said "Yes .."

Late Night Confession

When i used to be a little kid back to the days when the sun used to be brighter and the moon was a friend , i used to believe in idealism , i used to believe that there exist the what so called a perfect life , a perfect friend , a perfect love. I used to believe that if you don't choose that perfect thing, then you'd be riding a wrong bus and losing your road gradually. I used to enjoy being on my own more than being with people. Back then , there used to be my place; where i just enjoy watching people playing,laughing and talking. But for me i was like the director of the whole scene. I used to enjoy thinking about the universe , i used to love creating stories in my head more than living them , i used to believe that fairy tale characters do exist. I used to believe that i'm myself an ideal person full of values. Back then , everything seemed to be perfect and i have to admit that this period of my life have shaped many of my thoughts and beliefs until this moment am living.

Until one day i realized that life isn't that perfect and you can't live a perfect life and that the perfection sometimes lie in our imperfections. I started to be hit by the spark of thoughts from other people and other beliefs , people thought of me as an introvert or someone who's too picky and sometimes conceited. I still believe that sometimes we need sometime on our own. And since i spent most of my childhood on my own, creating fairy tales is still something i enjoy , so don't pity me when you see me sitting all alone or not engaging in a happy people discussion because at this very moment i'll be enjoying myself much more than you imagine.

The hole in the sky

 

It came close to me as if it's sending me a message , it was clear in the vast space with clouds trying so hard to fill it, it was the hole in the sky. In this terrible weather clouds were doing their best to cover it, like it's gonna show the vast universe beyond and fill the earth with light. The gap between two clouds was so clear to me but not to everyone as i tried to see the imperfection of the perfection. It kept moving and rain started to fall, the hole started to decrease closely until the sky was all filled with clouds and rain. And then i realized that the hole in the sky is as big as the hole inside my heart.