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Sniff

2008-08-06T15:57:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Moved HERE

"3ayem" -C.

2008-08-04T15:49:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Amethyst: Alo?
A: Hala, shlounech?
Amethyst: I'm okay. How are you?
A: I'm good. Can you come over for lunch?
Amethyst: No, I have a final at two.
A: Right, I forgot.
Amethyst: Don't forget for a change.
A: What?
Amethyst: I said, don't forget for a change.
A: Hehe, iyey menich akthar.
Amethyst: Likewise.
A: Are you feeling any better?
Amethyst: Yeah, sort of..
A: Sort of?
Amethyst: Well, I'm okay enough to go take finals aren't I?
A: That doesn't count. You're not doing it willingly.
Amethyst: It does to me. And I'm not exactly doing anything willingly at this point in my life.
A: *Sigh* You're a handful.
Amethyst: Bite me.
A: You're being ridiculous.
Amethyst: So are you!
A: What do you mean?!
Amethyst: You know e x a c t l y what I mean.
A: Can we not-
Amethyst: Yes, if we don't-
A: Alright!
Amethyst: I love you.
A: I have to love you back.
Amethyst: But you're doing it willingly.
A: Why wouldn't I? You're... almost perfect.
Amethyst: Haven't I failed you yet?
A: I doubt you ever will.
Amethyst: Really?
A: Yes, really. I'm super sure and confident. You're going to be something bigger than I am one day. Much bigger.
Amethyst: You know what I really want?
A: What?
Amethyst: I want to be someone else's magician, like you are to me. That's big enough.

C. Not Burning on the Inside

2008-08-03T17:30:00.003+03:00

[HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!;* (yesterday)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DR. H!;* (today)]

Mr. Therapy Man, I need to ask you: how can I live on?*

And so she woke up after four hours of sleep with that song stuck in her head. She's falling. Falling into a pit. An eternal pit. And only she can pick herself up, flip the pit around, and make sure she falls out of it rather than into it. She sighs and turns over to get out of bed. She's been spending most of her days in bed. Might as well stay in there today.

She picks up her book and starts to read, ignoring the fact that she has two finals the next day. She has no sense of time. Her brother peeks in to ask if she wants anything to eat. She shakes her head. When was the last time she ate anyway? She shrugs and closes her book. She drags the laptop over her legs. Should she?

She opens it up. And signs into her multiple accounts. The only person she feels like talking to isn't online. Her status says busy. Busy doing what? She's got to be busy doing something. Not really. Says who? She can be busy doing nothing. But she isn't really doing nothing. She's thinking. Overwhelmingly. Is that a word? She can't remember.

Does it surprise her? No. She's already forgotten how to count. She's already managed to dismiss the fact that a red light means stop. Next on the list? She won't even mention it. Last time she felt this way was Summer `07. A book got her through that. Nothing will get her through this. Not even knowing what's next.

What if what's next is worse? She wouldn't want to live anymore. She's already living for one person only. She's already lived enough for everyone else. Wow. What is she thinking? What is it? She's driving herself over the wall. Blasphemous. She giggles. She really is insane.

Nostalgic. A song plays that reminds her of way too many memories. They are flooding her head. And in turn, the thoughts in her head flood her eyes. She needs to leave her bed. Or change its sheets. Maybe all the negativity would shed itself away once the sheets are gone. No?

She doesn't only need to get out of her bed. She needs to leave. Soon. It would do her some good. It has to. And she wishes when she comes back, everything will be less hurtful. People would have moved on and dealt with their issues. And then maybe she can smile genuinely on the inside as well as the outside. She wipes her tears.

She sighs. She sits up on her bed and glances at the mirror to her left. She needs to deal with her hair. It's big from the tossing and turning before the four hours of sleep she managed. Her eyeliner is smuged at well, adding a horrifying effect to the dark circles under her eyes. Her collar bones are starting to protrude. When was the last time she ate, again? Oh, wait. She couldn't remeber that the first time. She reaches out to the elastic band on her bedside table and ties her hair back. She attempted brushing it the day before, but she gave up. As long as her bangs are okay, she'll look fine. Or will she?

She would love to shatter the mirror until she feels better. She knows that'll happen some time soon. But she also hopes it happens sooner than her soon. She wants to be able to live like her name implies. Her brother peeks in again. Does she want anything to eat? No, just water. Can she have a bottle? Two big ones? Sure.

Maybe the water will cleanse her of all of this.. Or maybe she'll look back at it and sing, I remember when I lost my mind. There was something so pleasant about that phase.**

*Mr. Therapy Man - Justin Nozuka

**Crazy - Gnarles Barkley

"Wain elnakhwa?" -C.

2008-07-31T17:15:00.008+03:00

Here's why I love kids...

Little K: Laish labsa qalb el7ub? (Why are you wearing a heart?)

Amethyst: Le2ani a7ebik;* (Because I love you;*)

Little K: 7ata ana a7ebes;* (I love you, too;*)

M: Fi dodo meni! (You're hurt there!)

Amethyst: Adri *Pouts* (I know)

M kisses the bruise: Al7een etrou7 eldudu:) (It'll go now)

Amethyst: Chan yrou7 eltheeb w ygoul 7ag elkharoof, "Ra7 akleeek!" (Then the wolf went to the sheep and said, "I'm going to eat you!")

Little K makes claws out of his hands: Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawr!

K: Saway chedi wayh elsmecha elfish. (Do the fish face)

Amethyst sucks her cheeks in and does the fish face..

K: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Meta etrou7een elba7ar? (When will you go to the sea?)

Amethyst watching Horton Hears a Who with Little K, M, and K.

Little K: Shoofay, al7een et6ee7 3alaih elshyara! Wa3alaya.. *puts hand on cheek* (Look, now the tree will fall on him! Poor guy..)

---

For everyone who is wondering who A is, A is for real. A exists. A is the person who made me who I am now. If it weren't for A, I'd probably be suicidal. Some of the readers know who A is, and for those who don't.. You don't have to. It's okay if A is a mystery to you. And so:

Amethyst: How come you never cry?

A: How come you always cry?

Amethyst: I don't cry. How come you never cry?

A: There's no point in crying. I cry on the inside.

Amethyst: There is.. You let things out. You can't keep everything inside.

A: I thought you didn't cry.

Amethyst: I don't.

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What freaks you out about yourself?

"What are you all about?" -C.

2008-07-30T22:01:00.005+03:00

A: Why do you think a lot?
Amethyst: I don't know.
A: Nothing is for no reason.
Amethyst: I know.
A: So, why do you think so much?
Amethyst: It's normal to think about things that concern you or people you love and care about, and there always has to be someone going through something.
A: Right.
Amethyst: This book is funny.
A: Radaina 3ala the book?!
Amethyst: Wallah! 7ada ytha7ek!
A: Drop the book and look at me.
Amethyst: Okay?
A: You need to get a grip.
Amethyst: I know. I will when I get back.
A: No, you need to get a grip now, before you lose it completely.
Amethyst: I know.
A: Red lights like that, can't count, a3sab, excessive thinking, sleepless nights, not eating.. Get a grip.
Amethyst: Inshallah:)
A: No fake smiles. Not with me, anyway.
Amethyst: Okay
A: What the hell is going on with you?
Amethyst: Nothing. I just feel misplaced. Like I'm in the wrong time and place?
A: No, elaborate..
Amethyst: I don't feel like it. You want food?

Lesson learned: No matter what, people who read you can do it all the way. You can't fake it. You got them used to knowing everything about you. And when you decide to withdraw, it scares them. And it also scares you.

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Randomly:

No more school from 8-4

Finals will be over on the 5th!

I need a massage.

I already miss my jam3a buddies;(

Fishbowl is funny;p

I really miss J;*

I.Need.Sleep. Pills?

...

"Salamat" -C.

2008-07-29T20:28:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Tagged by Balqees

ID

Name: Amethyst
My friends call me: ..different things;p
My Nickname(s): Too many, the best of which are Butterfly and Angel Eyes;*
Birthday: Feb 2nd, 1989
Major: Engilsh Literature
Job Title: Student

FAVES

Boys name: Hmm.. I don't have a favorite.
Girls name: Fajer:)
Perfume: Irresistable (and Amethyst;*)
Fruit: Bananas and pineapple
Veggie: Nothing comes to mind;\
Fast food place: Currently McD's;p
Favorite cartoon character: Didn't watch cartoons.. *Cough*
Animal: Serpents
Ice Cream: Chocolate <3

HAVE YOU EVER?!

Bungee jumped: Yeah, and loved it!
Used someone: Maybe, but I hope not;\
Had bloody nose: Once
Played truth or dare: Lol, yes! Countless times;p
Put your tongue on a frozen pole: No
Been in a physical fight: Yes;p
Knocked on wood: Yeah!
Broken a bone: Yes;\
Broken the law: A bit too many times..

LAST TIME

Laughed and why? Around ten minutes ago, my friend was umm.. playing around with a concept;p
Cried and why? I'm not answering that.
Hugged someone and whom ? My mom, around two hours ago..
Recieved a call and from whom ? A, around 20 minutes ago..
Used a pen and what did wrote ? At like fourish, "Enjoy, Darling!" <- Our housemate wrote me a note to tell me that she borrowed some books, and I wrote back on the same note.
Lied and whats the truth ? Said I was okay when I'm really not;p
Recieved a message and from whom ? Just now, from N.
Took a shower: Around four hours ago..
Put make-up on: My trademark eyeliner, this morning;)
Ride a bike: Weeks ago;\

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO YOU?

Your family: The people who invade my room;p
Your home: Where I am at the end of the day..
Your friends: The people who make me smile:)
Yourself: An amethyst in the process of being shaped for a ring..
Your birthday: The day I was born?
Your bedroom: My place to think which is frequently used as a living room;\
Your car: I don't have a car of my own.
Your mobile: Reaching out to people..
Your PC/laptop: Access to things I love, esp. music..
Blogging: The most suitable outlet:)
Money: A necessity

RIGHT NOW

Eating: Nothing, I'd rather not eat;\
Thinking: I <3>Smelling: No sense of smell;\
Watching: A hort film posted on F.'s blog;)
Listening to: Clocks - Coldplay
Feeling: Drowsy -> Migraine deprived me of sleep;(
Wearing: PJ bottoms and a tank top
Waiting for: Too many things:)
Hating: My migraine?
Missing: J
Loving: I don't feel like long lists;p
Worried about: Someone
Planning: To sleep off the migraine;\
Annoyed with: My migraine

MENTION TWO THINGS THAT

Make you happy: Someone I love is happy + Sleeping well:)
That you're obsessed with: Fixing people's hair/eyebrows + Reading
Make you sad: Helplessness + Feeling lost
You hate: My migraine + Madry;\
You're doing: Listening to music + Talking to my bro
You like to eat: Pasta + Ice cream
Smell Bad: Cheap perfume + Raw fish
That we probably dont know about you: I eat pizza with my hands + I feel naked if I'm not wearing a ring
That you did today: Screwed up a midterm + ran a red light;\
That are dangerous: Running a red light + Jumping off a building?
That you're good at: Reading thoroughly + Witty comebacks
That hurt: Being blown off/Feeling unappreciated + Betrayal (including being kept in the dark)

RANDOM

Tell us something your "3ax el nas" about: I don't brush my hair or tweeze my eyebrows.
Can you play any instruments? Not anymore, no;\
List four things that you are less than 3 meters away from: The book I'm currently reading, the red teddy bear HAJS got me (his name is Cincinnatus today), my phone, and one of my two Banksy books <3
Have you ever been told you look like someone, if yes, who? Kristen Bell, Jennifer Garner, Maram, my mom, my dad, and the list goes on and on..;\
Are you enjoying this tag? Not really;p
What bad habits do you have? I don't brush my hair. I walk away from things when I'm pissed. I bite my nails when I'm pensive, worried, or helpless. Etc.
If you could have one day being the opposite gender, what would you do ? Check myself out as a girl;p
Worst thing that has happened to you this year: I'd rather not:)
What's your current Habba Song? Mmm.. Wonderful - India Arie
Any last words? Balqees, never again;p

Overwhelming Silence

2008-07-27T23:25:00.004+03:00

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A: What is it?

Amethyst: *shrugs*

A: You brought me here, so you could sit on the floor and stare through the wall?

Amethyst: I don't know. I thought I had something to say.

A: Talk to me

Amethyst: I said I thought I had something to say. Doesn't that mean I really had nothing to say?

A: You tell me

Amethyst: I don't know. I guess I don't.

A: Don't cry

Amethyst: I don't cry.

A: Whatever you say

Amethyst: You know, my friend lent me a hilariously funny book.

A: And?

Amethyst: It's funny?

A: Okay. You're crying. This is not working. You can't cry and talk about a funny book.

Amethyst: Really? Watch me.

A: Khebla. Are you challenging yourself?

Amethyst: No, I'm betraying it.

A: And why are you doing that?

Amethyst: I wasn't doing it intentionally, and I'm stuck now. That's the book on top of that pile..

A: You're stuck?

Amethyst: Trapped?

A: Be brutally honest. I won't bite.

Amethyst: I never said you would.

A: What's going on?

Amethyst: I wish I could tell you. You weren't there when it first started. And me telling you now.. Well, it would just be a waste of time. You can't help. You know?

A: No, I don't know. I can always help. We both know that.

Amethyst: Not in this case. I feel like I don't need any of this.

A: This?

Amethyst: This equals everything I have or am living.. Everything. Just everything, kel shay.

A: Why are you giving up on yourself?

Amethyst: I'm not. I'm giving up on expecting things to work out the way I want them to. For a kid who didn't like fairy tales, I should've learned that happy endings aren't for real.

A: You already knew that.

Amethyst: Every single time? They're never there..

A: Really? What if-

Amethyst: No what ifs, remember?

A: Right.

Amethyst: Can we just sit here in silence?

A: Of course

Counting Sheep

2008-07-25T20:12:00.006+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I miss blogging. I have so much to say but no time to say it. It's quite frustrating. I'm drained. On the other hand..

I'm finally done with all the responses and papers due for the whole semester!;D

Moving on...

A question for our fellow males:

Do you believe in "The Feminine Mystery?"

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I love my younger brother. He's such a sweetheart. Every time I feel down, he finds ways to make me feel better without me even telling him that I'm not okay. At times, he just knows that I don't feel like talking, so he simply spends time with me in my room being silly. When I stay up late working, he stays up with me, commenting on what I write and coming up with comic relief. Because I'm so busy these days, I've realized that he's the one who misses me the most. 7bbi;*

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Amethyst: You guys, I need to change. Yalla, leave wela abadel jedamkum.

Friend: Amethyst, hatha elazrag 7ag sheno?

Amethyst: Eye cream, ma et3arfeen tegrain? Enzain 6el3aw bara balbes!

Friend: Once wela twice a day?

Amethyst: Twice. 6el3aw.

Friend2 *holding up a pair of shoes*: Are you going to wear these?

Amethyst: Mm, madry. I'll let you know when I'm dressed! Yalla, leave! We're late!

Friend2 *holding up another pair of shoes*: Enzain hathaila ra7 talbeseenhum?!

Amethyst: Madry, 6el3aw bara albes w ba3dain agoulech!

Friend: Khanrou7 chalet next week.. Meta etkhalsoun dawam?

Friend2: Ana ma 3endi shay w 3adi akshet.

Amethyst: Wednesday, but I have finals after that. Would you guys leave?

Friend: Ee, bas manabi wayed nass khanrou7 bas e7na..

*Amethyst starts undressing*

Friends: HEY! SHGA3ED ETSAWEEN?!

Amethyst: 9arli sena agoulekum 6el3aw balbes, madry 3ankum etha you mind or not!

Friends: Oh, enzain 3adi khalseena we're late!

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Randomly:

I miss J;*

I'm growing my hair out.

Banksy's identity is revealed.

My mom thinks I'm getting too thin.

Sleep deprived

I'm considering working during Ramadan, since I have no school. Any suggestions?

The weather is torture without beach.

Ice cream all the way

Pissed at society

...

;$

2008-07-20T18:08:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I've been getting a lot of casual gifts lately.

I got two copies of what I call The Banksy Book, one from Sou and one from a special someone that shall not be named.

I got Amethyst by Lalique from H and J, and I absolutely love it although I thought it smelled crappy when I first tried it at the mall;p

*Cat sent me this pic

So, thanks for surprising me. It made my hellish days a lot better. Love you;*

---

Randomly:

My rash is much better.

Never tell anyone that you know someone with three nipples.

The smell of cigarettes makes me high.

I love my friends. I don't know what I'd do without them.

When you feel down, always think of the best memories even if they make you cry.

Banksy is amazing.

Books are the best thing to lose yourself in.

Being happy and sad at the same time is possible.

Heartaches aren't only emotional.

Life is wickedly strange.

I love my phone.

I just realized that I can only go without rice for a while even if it's a really long while. I crave rice!

I'm losing weight without doing anything, and I keep needing to get new jeans;\

I need more time to read.

I should stop being so evil.

Although I'm sleeping better, I'm sleeping less.

I need a break from everything. I have one more paper to go, and I can't seem to concentrate enough to work on it.

I love the smell of the sea.

I'm craving cake. The one my friends call the old-fashioned cake..

Enzain bas mali khelg I type;\

Marx

2008-07-18T21:07:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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The Transcendental Female*

She could not help but feel excited about reading something she can completely relate to. She wakes up early Friday morning to the page she opened her photocopied package to last night. She has always had a feminist in her, and that led her to believe that every female is born with that side. As a female grows, she either submits to the patriarchal society she lives in, or she nurtures the feminist within and takes on the challenge other women have started before her.
The introduction of the assigned reading triggers her already established annoyance for fairy tales. Since she turned four, her parents have been subjected to an interrogation after reading her such stories. Why does it always have to be the prince who picks the princess? Why can't the princess save herself? Why isn't there a monster instead of a witch? Her parents have soon given up and bought her books that were not fairy tales. Stories she can read alone without having to interrogate them, but she always found someone to ask. Her uncle has become the usual victim. Soon, he introduced her to the world of Hans Christian Andersen, where there is only a subliminal partially dangerous happily ever after.
As the reading gets more and more interesting, she realizes that she is merely reading beliefs she has previously attacked from all sides before defending in her somewhat opposing society. She has argued that marriage should not be a female's ultimate social goal in countless gatherings. Women should know themselves and feel complete before allowing the presence of a man. She remembers all her friends who have been done wrong by men only to become a shame to the female race by exclaiming that they might not be able to find a man closer to perfect that the one that has made them feel worthless. It is true what her wiser female relatives say, all men are really just one man.
She agrees that gender discrimination spread through religion. After all, the most popular books are holy ones, and what do these advocate? The infamous Biblical story that blames Eve for the fall of humanity and the theory that Eve was created from one of Adam's ribs are only a couple. Furthermore, people do not question stories presented religiously; therefore, they believe them and blindly advocate them whether they are true or altered to suit male dominance.
Proud that she knows most of the names that are considered leading feminist activists, she is even more proud that these women unite in the idea that women should be equal to men, regardless of their background and lifestyle. She really believes that if that goal is accomplished, and it will take centuries, the world would be a better place. Women will learn to live a life that will contribute "to the world of reality and not to the world of men."
She giggles at the idea that she is a "madwoman in the attic" to male chauvinists. What would all the sexist critics they have previously discussed in class think of this? It is a theory that disputes them all. Women to them are inferior to men, but in this theory, the script is definitely balanced if not flipped.
She smiles as she finishes the reading, realizing that feminists are wrongly perceived as haters of men. They do not hate men; they just despise those who think they have the right to take away their freedom of choice of lifestyle because of their gender. She seats herself before a blank document and places her female hands to type a response entitled The Transcendental Female. For once, she does not leave the title for last.

*One of my theory assignments for Z and N.

Outline: Deconstructing Andersen

2008-07-16T16:31:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I wish I could spend the weekend sleeping, reading, and watching movies.

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More adventures in class with Sou

*Amethyst hasn't slept for more than twenty four hours and has been working her behind off to get things in before deadlines. Class is extremely boring.*

Sou: Amethyst?

Amethyst: Hmm? Hmm? What?

Sou *staring at Amethyst*: You look like you fell asleep.

Amethyst: I did... with my eyes open.

Sou: Did you know that Khaldeya have big ants? Which means they have bigger asses, and you can see them!

Amethyst: I don't want to know.

*The example being discussed in class for analyzing felicity conditions is "There is an ant coming towards you."*

Sou: If an ant was coming towards me, I'd be like: "Hello, what color is your thong today?"

Amethyst: LOL!

---

What is the Kuwaiti equivalent of the word cute?

The Perverted Freud

2008-07-15T17:01:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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[WARNING] MAJOR RANT AHEAD!

I am so frustrated. Seriously. Two bad days in a row! Two very crappy draining days in a row.

Day 1.

I oversleep but insist that I look good for school. So, I make the effort of wearing something nice. I go to school to have my professor gasp at me not starting the research writing process for one of my classes. Then, he gives us something to make thirty five word notes on for five marks. Seriously?

I spent the rest of my school day worry about projects, midterms, and papers. Then, I spent the day after the school day to do what? Worry about my three best friends who are all going through some kind of shite. Add to all that worrying, three hours of barfing a McDonald's meal while crying because I'm scared shitless of throwing up, working on a paper until past midnight, and arguing with my mother on which social obligations I should attend this week.

Day 2.

I set my alarm for 4.30am, so I can study for my Earth & Universe midterm which is in Arabic. Because I'm absolutely drained, I silence the alarm while I'm asleep. Hmm.. Let's see what that insignificant event does to the rest of the day. Because I shut off the alarm, I couldn't reset it to wake up for my morning class. I wake up at 7.40am. I fall off my bed from the end that is opposite of the pillows. My class is at 8am. I grab clothes from off the floor and put them on. I rush out of the house. I forgot to print the paper I stayed up working on. Fun, isn't it?

I get to class at 8.30am. Professor asks me for the title of my topic. I didn't choose a topic, Sir. He gasps again and tells me to give him "a definite title tomorrow without fail." Then, he reminds me that outlines are due on Thursday. And the paper is due on the 27th. Deep breath.

I leave the class to study for the midterm, but I can't concentrate because of all the stuff I have to do. I go to class, present an oral progress report on a project, leave early, print my paper at the jam3eya, and head to Khaldeya to take my midterm. I submit my paper and get an exam paper in return. I look it over... SEVENTY FREAKIN' QUESTION TO DO IN LESS THAN AN HOUR. Mu sij! Oh, and the professor kept reminding me not to write in English. I didn't do well at all. I wrote half of the answers in English. Example of question and answer:

Q: Ma heya elnjoum elsayara?

A: They move.

Anyways, done with the exam, absolutely pissed. I get the midterm result for my favorite class ever. I know I could've aced it, but I didn't because I was having a bad day that day. And now, here I am. Afraid to eat in case I puke, working on choosing a topic and starting an outline, worrying about a response I have to submit before Thursday, and thinking of how much of a bitch I've been for not being able to be there fully for my friends.

And to top it all off, I think I've added one of the worst feelings ever to my list of worst feelings. Here it is:

It's when you really want something for someone you love, but they can't seem to have it, and you can't do anything about it. Basically, it's being helpless knowing that if only you could do something, you wouldn't think about it twice even if it cost you the world. But at the end of the day, there's nothing that you can do..

SIGH

2008-07-14T17:31:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Now, I know why I can't concentrate enough to blog... BECAUSE I CAN'T CONCENTRATE ENOUGH TO DO ANYTHING RIGHT!;O

Snippets, and I'll leave the commenting to you:

I fell this morning because I forgot that there were steps.

At an attempt to refill my bottle with water from the fountain, I dropped my phone, then poured water all over the floor, my phone's shattered pieces, and my friend's head and arm, unintentionally because I forgot for a moment that the bottle was in my hand.

Mom: Pass the salt.
Me: Mu yami..
Mom: Amethyst, pass the salt, kaho jedamech!
Me: Mako salt!
Mom: JEDAMECH!
Me: Wain salt?! Mashoof salt!
*Mom stares at me blankly*
*I stare at the table before me and realize that the salt is RIGHT in front of me.*

Bro: I waited for you, so we could eat together.
Me: I'm not eating, now.
Bro: Yeah, but I waited.
Me: For what?
Bro: For you to come home, so we could eat together.
Me: Why would we eat together?
Bro: Because we both didn't have lunch?
Me: Yeah, but you have lunch at one.
Bro: Amethyst, I didn't eat at one, so I could eat with you.
Me: Yeah, but why are you eating twice?

While driving, I realized that I was singing something different to what was playing because I thought it was the song that was playing.

After being very late to class, I noticed that I left my book in the car that I just came from.

I'm oversleeping everday, but when I look at the time and panic, I get out of bed from the other end: not the sides, the end opposite to the pillows.

Mixing up names of people I see daily multiple times in one utterance!

I think I need a chill pill..

Wall & Piece

2008-07-12T12:24:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

My urge to blog is half dead.

---

So, this morning I went to the clinic to check on something, and I'm not big on going to doctors unless it's the dentist. I have this fear of heading to the clinic all alone. Don't ask. It's just there. Anyway, so I went and asked for a female doctor, but I got a male doctor instead. I had to go back to the reception and emphasize that I wanted a female doctor. So, I got annoyed that I wasn't given much importance the first time I asked.

In the waiting area, people kept turning to see if the number flashing on the screen changed everytime the elevator ding-dong sound rang out. You just heard the frickin' sound that tells you that the number changed! It's a prolonged beep not a ding-dong! Testahbeloun?! Everything was ten times more annoying because I was freaking out.

When it was finally my turn, I stepped in, and the doctor was... scary? She looked plastic. She had bright orange nails! And when I explained to her that I had a rash and what not, she got up to lock the door, so I could take off my shirt and show her the rash. I had images of her scraping it off with her long bright orange nails.

I think that was the very last time I go to see a doctor alone. Seriously. Annoyances and suspense multiplies and add to my nonsensical phobia. It's just not okay. I need to breathe.

An Uncomforting Rash

2008-07-08T17:03:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

A girl is parked at a cafe next to her college. She sits in her car, her friend accompanying her in the passenger seat. They're waiting for a friend. The friend parks next to them. Why bother getting a table at the cafe when she has to run an errand and come back again? They'll just say good morning in the car. Her friend joins them and sits in the back seat. They start talking. It won't take long. The friend has class in a bit.

A police car parks behind her. The cop leans on her window. She brings it down. He asks for their IDs. They hand over their IDs. He asks the friend to leave the car. He gives them a lecture on morality and ethics. He threatens to drag them to the police office and get them expelled from university. He insists that if their fathers found out, they would slap them senseless. Apparently, they are violating their religion. Apparently, they are violating the laws of their country. Apparently, the cop is not a hypocrite. She sits there, taking control of her anger to make sure they pull through.

Two girls and a guy parked in public to say good morning and have a chat. Infidels. Shame on them. Shame. How dare they? How can they look past their respectable families? How can they think it normal to do such a thing? A scandal! That's what it is. Shame.

Since when is saying good morning a violation?

Warmth

2008-07-05T19:00:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

God works in strange strange strange ways.

Opium

2008-07-02T16:47:00.002+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Talking about how our mothers used to dress us and what outfits we kept...

D: I have this outfit from when I was like three...

Amethyst: IT STILL FITS?! *Pause* No..

---

I've been busy these past few days, but I haven't been blogging because I don't have anything to say. I think my theory class is becoming too much of an outlet on different levels.

So, umm.. I still have nothing to say.

Readers, be informed that I will be away basking under the sun at an exclusive beach house until Sunday. You'd better miss me.

Nothing to say. *Rolls eyes*

I can't think.

Note: I've been working on this post since I posted my last post. Mu embayen, but I promise you, it's true. This must be the suckiest post here ever, but I'm keeping it;p

I [HEART] Rex

2008-06-29T20:23:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I went to a Roaring 20s party last night. People should NOT have really good parties a day before school. I'm sick! My voice is gone from all the yelling, and my feet are killing me from all the dancing. I barely got through my classes today. It was worth it though. I looked hot, and I should have been born in that age.

---

This afternoon, I drove back to the Kaifan campus from Khaldeya. I opened the car door but didn't get out for a while because I was trying to think what books I needed while I was on the phone.

Amethyst: Sheno olad?! Khal a7mel awal!

Friend: Mu il7een! After marriage!

Amethyst: Ee, I know. What am I saving my virginity for?

*turns around to find a woman narrowing her eyes at her*

Friend: LOL!

Amethyst: Umm.. Fi mara ga3ed etkhezni!

Friend: LOL!

*walks away from the car really fast*

Amethyst: Laish chethi y9eer feni?! W laish gelt ena fi mara ga3ed etkhezni ashkara jedamha? Esma3atni! Allah yal fashla!;\

---

I don't find Johnny Depp hot. Khal y9eer elwath3 3adi ya nass!;\

---

I'm being random because I'm sick. I can't think. Really. I just watched Dancer in the Dark. I cried my eyes out. Enough, sa7? I should go rest;\

Aj & The Stage

2008-06-28T13:56:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I walk in wearing an oriental wrap dress and my favorite shoes. My hair is up in a comfortable easy updo. My bangs line my forehead. Eyeliner and gold eyeshadow accent my eyes. I smile at myself in the mirror, ignoring the migraine. I walk into the room filled with people. Familiar and unfamiliar faces look my way. I smile wider and begin formalities and pleasantries.

I nod at the right time, asking appropriate questions about the daughter that gave birth or the sister that got married. I listen to the details that don't really matter to me. I take my place next to my friend, whispering in her ear that I'm going to leave early. She turns to face me, and I remind her that I have another lunch to go to.

I cross my legs and straighten my back. I answer questions about myself, hoping that I won't be asked about anyone else. Soon, we are all sitting at the table eating lunch. I play with my food as they talk about men who have done women wrong and vice versa. I'm angered by such discussions. They don't know enough to discuss these personal issues. No matter how many details they gather, what goes on in the house between two people who are alone is another matter. Shouldn't they be experienced enough to know that?

I stay quiet, refusing to comment on any of the social talk/gossip that is being said. Two and a half hours later, I change my dress and leave. This time, I walk in wearing the same shoes but a different light summer dress. I smile as I apologize for not being able to come earlier. I hug, kiss, and playfully slap. I lay back on the sofa, kicking off my shoes.

I listen to their gossip without commenting while devouring a plate of brownies. Then, I shift the conversation to something else. Something that doesn't concern people I don't care about. Three hours later, I leave to my aunt's house.

I rush in breathless, hoping I have arrived before the awaited guests. Relief. I have. Just as I finish freshening up, the door bell rings. I make sure everything is set right and open the door. Another series of smiles and formalities.

I sit through the conversations, only present physically. I can no longer digest anything, whether physically or mentally. I stare at a spot on the wall and meditate to clear my head, realizing that the migraine is still there. When the guests leave, I leave.

As soon as I get home, I look at my bed. Tempted to throw myself upon it, I give it my back and reach for my textbook.

That is yesterday. Social Obligations Day. They love your company, you have to go. They come to all our social events, you have to go. They invite you by name, you have to go. They ask about you every time you're not there, you have to go. And so it is.. I go.

When I finally had two minutes for myself, I realized that I would rather deal with academic obligations than social ones. And that doesn't make me weird. At all.

One Butterfly Wing

2008-06-26T17:38:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Since I have classes from 8am-4pm, I don't see my family much. When I get home, I have school work to do. When I'm done with the school work, I pass out on whatever book I'm reading. So, I decided that I'd set one day a week to spend with each of my parents and both my brothers. This means I have to make sure that all my assignments are done so that I can really spend time with them.

It's not working. I am getting my work done, but they are either busy or spoilers. Examples? The day I decided to spend with Dad, he took Mom out. The day I decided to spend with my brothers, there was a football match on. The day I spent with my mom got her lecturing me on my lifestyle.

So, yeah.. Blekh;\

---

Randomly:

The Jenny Packham boutique doesn't have my aspired wedding dress. I went to try it on yesterday, but it wasn't there. Don't point out that I'm no where near getting married soon. I don't care.

My mood swings are getting a bit too extreme.

I want beige sandals with very high heels and another amethyst ring.

How can people not know Dr. Seuss?

I've been trying to find time to watch Dancer in the Dark, but it's going to have to wait a bit longer than I thought;\

I don't like it when people I know well think they should explain themselves to me.

My sleeping patterns are weird now that I'm sleeping.

A bunch of friends and I decided to take a break and head to the beach for three days. Our mothers decided to tag along, inhabiting the chalet next to ours. What a break..

I feel pretty today.

The Archer describes images of children swallowing razor blades to me on a daily basis. That's evil.

Big Bean

2008-06-25T17:25:00.009+03:00

[UPDATE] Bottom of post;p

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I really need to mark this as a landmark in my university life:

Adventures of Having Classes with Sou.

Prof: I really can't explain this (The Cooperative Principle in Discourse Analysis) to a five year old.
Sou: Yeah, unless he's a prodigy or something..
Prof: From India perhaps!
*Sou turns around and shares a look with Amethyst who gasps, then they both start laughing*

Prof is explaining something about pronounciation in Phonetics and says a word we don't know. Sou takes out her dictionary and points out "viagra."

Sou: Why do we have viagra in the dictionary?
Amethyst: Because there's people who might not know what it is!
*Laughter*
Sou: Men have something similar to PMS!
Me: WHAAAT?! Where?
*Sou points out IMS in her dictionary. Both share a look of pure evil then laugh.*

Amethyst has been trying to tell Sou an incident for ten minutes, wedging in a sentence every pause in the discussion. Near the end of the salfa:

Amethyst: So the text message says, "I wish I could just smell your panties."
*Sou turns around to face Amethyst and has the equivalent of a gasp on her face. They both crack up until they are out of breath continuously for the next ten minutes.*

Phonetics, again.

Amethyst: Sir, fronting a back vowel and vice versa? Huh? I don't get it.
Prof: Yes, for example: oo-ee-oo-ee-oo-ee-oo... *looking ridiculous*
Amethyst: Sounds like an ambulance!
*Sou turns around and gives Amethyst a you-did-not-just-say-that look and both crack up*

Prof (addressing Sou): I feel sorry for the man who's going to end up with you.
Sou: That was mean and hurtful, but I'm going to continue making my point. Whoo-sah. So, as I was saying..

Prof: Playwrighter's of that age blah blah blah..
*Amethyst thinking, "playwrightER?!" turns to Sou*
Sou: Shut up.
Amethyst: I didn't say anything!
Sou: But you were going to.
Amethyst: No, I wasn't!
Sou: Well, you thought it!

Walking out of class.

Amethyst: UGH! Mali khelg I do the response. Did you see how many pages we have to read?
Sou: Did you see the size of the text?! It's insanely small! Teez el-namla!

Regarding teez el-namla, in class:

Prof: ...being part of an ant colony...
*Amethyst shares a look with The Archer. Both crack up. Amethyst looks at Sou, "Psst, ANT colony?" Sou cracks up.*

Prof: You need to learn how to dress (hint goes to student wearing a t-shirt with a practically naked man on it) and talk (hint goes to Sou and Amethyst) appropriately in class.
Sou (talking to the student wearing the t-shirt with the muscled man wearing briefs and standing on a ball): Yeah, why are you wearing that?
Student: It's Marc Jacobs.
Sou: Right. It's Marc Jacobs. But it doesn't say Marc Jacobs, who would know?
Student: I would.

There are definitely more and more to come, but I'll stop here;p

[UPDATE]

Today, prof asks a question:

Student: Let's go and talk about it on coffee.

Amethyst *to Sou*: Yeah, so let's get sacks of coffee, sit on them, and talk.

Sou: No, we should get our actual mugs and sit on them!

Amethyst: Yeah, cuz they won't be up our @$$3#!

Regarding, teez el-namla (again), prof is talking about writing a poem about an ant:

Prof: It's an ant. I can't write about an ant!

Sou *looking through the textbook at the insanely small text*: I can write about ants.

Amethyst: No, you can write about certain parts of ants.

Regarding Indian child prodigy, different class:

Student: You know, on the news there was this 9 year old Indian boy who can perform surgeries...

*Amethyst and Sou share a knowing look and burst into laughter*

I.Need.Sleep.

2008-06-24T16:49:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Got this off Swair's blog. It looked like fun. Go ahead and tag yourself if you like it:)

Rules:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

What is your first name?
What is your favorite food?
What high school did you go to?
What is your favorite color?
Who is your celebrity crush?
Favorite drink?
Dream vacation?
Favorite dessert?
What you want to be when you grow up?
What do you love most in life?
One Word to describe you.
Your flickr name. (I don't have a flickr account, so I just put in Amethyst;p)

The answers are obvious, right?

Stronger Than Me

2008-06-23T15:45:00.005+03:00

[UPDATE] I'M ON SAFAT! FINALLY! YAY!

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

The person who got most answers right in the quiz is The Archer. Ghalia tied with him, but she annoyed me by mentioning something in her comment, so she's out!;p

Here are the answers:

My favorite color is lime green.

FALSE. My favorite color is purple.

I change the answer to the question in my profile every once in a while.

TRUE.

I've been single since I've started this blog.

TRUE.

I eat popsicles in the winter.

TRUE.

I escape reality by listening to music.

FALSE. I escape reality by reading.

My favorite movie is The Devil's Advocate.

TRUE.

A is my favorite person in the whole wide world.

TRUE.

I've lied on Poshlust.

FALSE.

I brush my hair as much as I twirl its strands around my fingers.

FALSE. I don't brush my hair much, and I play with it a lot.

---

*Discussing Lolita with a friend of mine*

Amethyst: But Humbert is too much of a pervert.
A: He's not a pervert.
Amethyst: Yes, he is! What is he, then?
A: He's just a mentally sick man of passion.
Amethyst: Didn't you just define pervert?

---

Tips for Men

Facial hair is hot, but don't leave hair that tends to stick out your nose.

Hold the door open for the ladies. At least don't barge through if a lady is opening the door for herself.

Know how to change flat tires.

Be honest. Even with your feelings. If you like us, just say it. If you don't, again, just say it. Save us the trouble of wondering.

Make sure your soccer match isn't more important than your girlfriend. It really matters.

There are certain shades of pink that you cannot pull off. Look at yourself in the mirror when you're wearing pink. See if it suits your skin color.

If you're hot and know it, it's not hot. If you're not hot and think you're hot, it's so bleeping annoying. We want to rip your limbs off and beat you on the head with them. Yes.. THAT annoying.

Any additions?

Added by Silver:

"lose the american accent, sooo unattractive."

"Dont u EVER EVER EVER under ANY circumstances tell her she looks fat. EVER."

And by iRise:

"a man who can cook and help around the house, is a dream come true... :)"

Holistic

2008-06-22T17:21:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I'm quizzing you guys. Because I'm mean. Not really.. Because I have nothing better to do, I guess. Anyways, it's a series of true or false statements. Nine to be exact. Let's see how well you know me.

T or F?

My favorite color is lime green.

I change the answer to the question in my profile every once in a while.

I've been single since I've started this blog.

I eat popsicles in the winter.

I escape reality by listening to music.

My favorite movie is The Devil's Advocate.

A is my favorite person in the whole wide world.

I've lied on Poshlust.

I brush my hair as much as I twirl its strands around my fingers.

Any ideas what the person with the most correct answers should get? I'm thinking a post on Poshlust, or they get to ask me any question that will not reveal me in reality.

Easier Lifestyle

2008-06-21T14:22:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Almost all of my writing is from a female's perpective. From what I've posted on Poshlust, only this piece of writing is from a male perspective. So, as an attempt to challenge me, A has asked me to write a first person male narration.

I run the razor over my chin repeatedly. At the back of my head, there's music playing: "If I said I was sorry, would you forget the things I've done? I don't know why I even worry. I don't believe in anyone."*

I stare at the reflection in the mirror. A face haunted by its past. Yes, my face. My past. I think of sliding the razor across my neck... the wrong way. My stare pierces through my reflection, and I wonder why the mirror doesn't shatter. My thought is reflected in my eyes. Isn't a thought of suicide strong enough to shatter a mirror? Its abnormality is dense. Dense enough to squeeze some beats out of my heart. Yet, my reflection doesn't flinch. Not at all. Not even when a series of flashbacks occur before my eyes.

I see shadows moving in the mirror. I can't make them out clearly. I stare at them, scrutinizing. A lot of movement. I can't keep track. I can't make out the action. Too much movement. I can't comprehend anything. Suddenly, there's a splatter of blood. A grey pitter patter of drops of blood landing on the mirror rings in my ear.

I shudder. Cold washes over me. The flashbacks are suddenly clear. It takes blood to remember blood. As I glance down at the razor in my hand, I realize that I'm done with shaving. I splash water over my face, hoping to get rid of the images that will distract me for the rest of the day.

As I close the door of the bathroom, I realize that I'm neither inside nor outside. I'm trapped. I also realize that there really wasn't blood or the sound of the drops hitting the mirror. Then what is it that seemed so real? They can't just be flashbacks?

The reflection didn't flinch, but the man standing before that reflection did.

*Killing Man - Jack Savoretti

Aristotle's Poetics

2008-06-20T17:36:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

About the last post, I don't believe in perfect worlds. Of course, perfection differs from person to person. I believe that everyone would be brainwashed. So, I don't know what I'd be if I had to come up with one.

---

Dear ******,

What makes you think you're welcome in my life? I mean, with all you've done, you should know that there is nothing that you say or do that will make me consider having you exist in my world. You've had more than the one or two chances that I usually give people. So, now, you need to stop trying to make things right.. because they won't be.

How can you build on something that's broken? Oh, and must I remind you that you broke it over and over again when you knew that it wasn't okay. I tried so hard to turn a blind eye on everything, but I learned that I shouldn't.. the hard way.

Leave my existence where it is, now. High in the heavens. I'm happy with or without you. You really won't make a difference. No need for dramatic facades that will only bring back the pain you put me through.

You hurt me, and I refuse giving you the chance to do that again. You're nothing to me. Nothing at all. Like all the abstract things you promised, turning into nothing once you silenced them.

You can't help but wonder what could've been if only you kept those promises. Sad, aren't you?

"It's Marc Jacobs."

2008-06-19T16:24:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

[QUESTION] What would you be in your perfect world?

For example, if you had the chance to make the world perfect, what position would you put yourself in? The king/queen? The peasant? The law enforcer? What?

Teez El-namla

2008-06-18T01:08:00.004+03:00

I'll never ever put myself in the state I'm in now. I danced all night. When I got home, I read thirteen pages of philosophy. Now, I am going to complete the assignment by writing a five hundred word response to what I read. I'm exhausted. I shouldn't have danced. I probably shouldn't have gone to that party. And I have class in less than seven hours.

---

Recent ANNOYING dialogues.

S: Are you half?
Amethyst: Half what?
S: Half Asian?
Amethyst: No.. *thinking that she does NOT look Asian*
S: Are you half Kuwaiti, then?
Amethyst: I'm Kuwaiti from both sides.
S: Oh, you don't look it.
Amethyst: *Fake smile*

Girl: Do you go to this college?
Amethyst: No, I study English.
Girl: Really?
Amethyst: Uuhh, yeah?
Girl: You seem smart, I thought you'd be in this college.
Amethyst: So smart people only study Science? *Walks away*

Amethyst: Hey, you!
A: Hey..
Amethyst: What's up?
A: Hey..
Amethyst: Are you okay?
A: Hey.. Yeah, I'm fine. *Pause* Aloo?
Amethyst: Yeah?
A: Hey.. When do you finish classes?
Amethyst: 4..
*Silence*
A: Aloo?!
Amethyst: What?!
A: Why are you so quiet? I can't think like this!

Amethyst: I'm in this fitting room!
7bbti: Ha?
Amethyst: The dark one is too big, and the light one is too small.
7bbti: Ba3ad jesmech madry shloun 9ayer..
Amethyst: Haw! Sheno ya3ni?!;\
7bbti: Ya3ni shloun ma enred baitna?
Amethyst: A9lan we're not going back home, goolay you3ana w khalas!
7bbti: You3ana!

Amethyst: Hi, Dad!
Dad: How do you want your name spelled?
Amethyst: With a "c" please and thank you!;D
Dad: The lady at the counter says it's weird.
Amethyst: Why does she care?
Dad: I don't want you spelling your name weird!
Amethyst: I do!

---

I'll go back to doing my assignment, now..

Hmph

2008-06-17T16:28:00.006+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Soul has honoured me with my very first testimonial:

Amethyst, the word rings a bell of a gem and the ring is true for this young lady. I am sure she would be in the league of the elite of the human society in coming years; The elite who actually matter.

I wish her good company, strength and balance.

~ Soul

I'm very flattered. Thank you:)

Who wants to be next?

---

While driving, I keep remebering random posts from my blog.

Remember this? It's down to four only. So, I guess I need to make a new list.

And the Until When? is now, FINALLY! Actually, it's been for a while, but I was too lazy to post the pic;p

Oh, and I craved toast while I was away, and they surprised me with this:

It's actually have the size of the table! And it's got four kinds of fillings.

Screw Khaldiya!

2008-06-16T16:14:00.002+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

[WARNING] I'm pissed. I'm about to rant. And I don't care if you think I'm a snobbish chauvinist. Don't point more fingers at me or I'll snap them in two.

I am my parents' only daughter. My independence annoys them at times. But at the end of the day, they love it. I have been single since forever. I don't need a man to make me happy. I don't need a man to make me feel beautiful. I don't need a man to complete my life. I am open to having a man around, but I don't NEED it. It's an option, not an obligation. And until the right man comes at the right time, I will NOT risk my happiness for the sake of an emotional adventure.

My friend disagrees with that. She seems to think that she does need a man to rid her of "loneliness." She doesn't think that she will be able to meet the right guy. AND THAT PISSES ME OFF!

Recently, I've had many talks regarding this issue. I'm very open about my life. I'm open to the extent that I don't have any secrets that only I know about myself. Why? Because I believe that I'm not doing anything wrong when I do something. And so, I'm never ashamed of anything I do. I've lost people (no, they weren't really friends) because I'm so open. I don't care. This is me. A whole person with nothing to keep to herself. And so.. I will speak my mind.

Now, here's the thing.. I love my friends. I really do. I usually do my best to make my friends happy until they cross the line. So, what is wrong with you?! You know who you are! I know you do. Both of you! Why is it not okay to be single? Why not learn to love yourself as you are and push that "loneliness" aside? What is up with you guys? I'd rather have a man by my side than not, but why is it such an issue if that doesn't happen?

Now, here it is plain and simple. Friend1, you need to understand that no one will love you enough if you don't love yourself enough to realize that you'll be okay without them. Friend2, you need to learn to push the obstacles you set for yourself aside and leap at the chances life presents you with. Like I said, if it works, then I'll be happy seeing you happy, and if it doesn't, you have us to nurse you back to sanity.

Think about it, you two. Refa3taw thagh6i. I'm just so disappointed in you. You don't understand how hard it is for me to sit through one of these talks. I want you to be happy. Why can't you just want that for yourselves?

Blekh.

I love you. Really, I do. Now, step it up and take control over yourselves and your lives la kaf 3ala wayehkum!;*

P.S. I wrote this yesterday. Friend1 has taken my advice into consideration. As for Friend2..

Eljaw Khayes

2008-06-15T16:33:00.003+03:00

Have you notice how your clothes, make up (for girls), music, choice of movies, and other stuff changes when you're happy/sad? Is it just me, or is it everyone else, too?

Moving on to F.'s tag:

I will always wear:

White!;D

I will never wear:

A one piece bathing suit.

My bad-clothes-day advice:

Have an emergency outfit ready!

I know I look great when:

I'm happy..

Smart travel tip:

Don't carry too much:)

To me summer means:

More time to read and write..

I tag: Balqees, Purely Orchid, and N.!

---

On a different note, Soul has left a comment on my 102 Things About Amethyst post about starting a post inviting people to write testimonials. Although I've entertained that idea for a while now, I needed that push. Thank you, Soul.

I'll get fellow bloggers and friends to write testimonials which I'll post when they submit them. If you're interested, mention it by commenting on THIS post. Soul, you go first. I ask you kindly to write me a testimonial of myself:)

No More Karaoke

2008-06-14T19:10:00.000+03:00

I'm back! I had a GREAT time. I need to stop being so wild. It's getting out of hand. But I've fallen in love with my life and myself all over again. This kicks therapy real hard in the behind!

---

She walked around in her purple bathing suit. She stood at the balcony, crossing her arms so that her butterfly tattoo spread its wings alluringly over her shoulder blades. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them again only to have her breath taken away repeatedly by the sight of the sea.

She couldn't resist the urge to go down there, the wind blowing her bangs around making her look silly. She enjoyed the feel of the sand under the soles of her feet, and a strange warmth climbed its way up all the way to her fingertips. Time for some contrast in feeling.

She put her feet into the cold water. There. She grinned. She sat down, surrounding herself with the feel of the waves against her body. A feeling of content washed over her as the waves washed away her worries.

She's leading a strange life in a strange world. That was nonsensical to her, once upon a time. Not anymore. She grabbed a handful of sand and watched the grains slip away. Contradictions are alright as well, she thought. They make life more exciting? Nah, they just confuse her. No more contradictions, then. It will have to be as simple as that.

She should head back. It's dawn and she left everything behind. No one could reach her if they wanted to. She walked back happy that her time alone with herself didn't bring back anything sad or painful. Happy that all has eroded under the waves of the sea. Funny how physical things reflected her internal feelings. Wait, not funny. Just strange, like the life she was walking back to.

She walked back. Only one person noticed that she had left, and he was waiting at the door, reading. She smiled and waved at him, and he waved back. She made her way uphill to the chalet, and sat right next to him. He didn't ask. He didn't need to.

She took her notebook out of his hands and read to him. Silence but her voice and the sound of the sea. The wind quieted down as to not distract her listener.

"He was sitting on the steps by the door, waiting. She waved at him, and he waved back. She knew if anyone would notice her absence, it would be him. And she knew she didn't have to explain. All she needed was to go back knowing that it didn't matter if anyone else noticed as long as he did. He meant the world to her, and she couldn't express the gratitude that swelled in her heart whenever she laid her eyes on him. He made her who she is now. And she loves herself enough to celebrate it."

He smiled at her, tears welling up in his eyes. They stood up. She gave him a hug and pushed him towards the door, playfully. They each headed to their separate rooms, knowing that they were really heading the same way.

Public Administration

2008-06-11T15:18:00.002+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I'm very dedicated to this blog. (Ha, that kind of translates into I'm very dedicated to myself!) Poshlust. Poshlust. Poshlust. I can never stop loving the sound of it! I just can't!

However, I will be taking a break (from my whole life, that is) for three days starting tomorrow. I'm going to take someone special's advice and celebrate myself!

Anxiety Pills - Pills

2008-06-10T01:46:00.002+03:00

Have you ever felt that you've been born into the wrong family because of how different you are? But then again, our family is pretty much randomly put together. If you picked strangers off the street and put them in a house, they'd have more things in common than my family does. I mean, not that I don't like it. I do most of the time, but it gets annoying not most of the time.

I don't watch TV, but the rest of the house does. So, when we're all sitting in the living room, they all have their eyes glued to the screen while I sit their lacking company. I end up leaving, and later on I get told that I don't spend enough time with them. Great. Let's give that a shot:

Amethyst: You know, my friend linked me to this website of this British graffiti artist...

Bro: So?

Amethyst: He's so cool! You want to see some of his work?

Bro: No, not really..

Amethyst: I'm reading this book about language use and censorship. There's this idea presented where-

Bro: Why do I care again?

Amethyst: Right.

Bro: You wanna watch a movie?

Amethyst *rolls eyes*: Sure!

Dad: What are you doing?

Amethyst: Chatting and looking at artwork. Ta3al, I wanna show you something!

Dad: Okay..

Amethyst: Look, here.. Do you get the message? There should be more nature in the urban areas..

Dad: Oh, hmm..

Amethyst: And look here.. Look familiar?

Dad: No, not really..;\

Amethyst: What?! Dad! We saw this when we went to Sweden remember?

Dad: We saw THAT?! Where?!

Okay, at least they try, right? I mean, they asked for me to spend time with them, and when I do, I'd rather listen than talk because I don't want to bore them. But you know what really gets to me? Meals..

7bbti: Why aren't you eating?

Amethyst: I ate this morning.. I'll have salad or something..

7bbti: You ate this morning at 8. It's 1, now. You should be hungry. All you had was toast, anyway.

Amethyst: Okay, umm.. Salad?

...

Bro2: They all piss me off! This school has way too many rules!

Amethyst: I told you to leave earlier on. It's too late, now. Exact same uniform, good grades, polished shoes, same smiles, all is polite.. Sounds like you're robots!

Bro2 *stares blankly*

Amethyst: And what's with the rule that says if you get restless it's "inappropriate behavior".. In what world?

Bro1: I went through that. It was pretty harsh.

Amethyst: Reminds me of 1984 and The Giver;\

Bro1 + Bro2: Yeah, we know exactly what you're talking about.. What?.. Because we so read those!

...

Amethyst cracks a joke. They all stare at her while her spoon is suspended in mid-air.

7bbti: Sheno ya3ni?

Dad: Ma fahamt, 3eeday..

Bro1: Haha?

Bro2: Maleqni..

...

Amethyst: My blog got over 20,000 hits!

7bbti: M hmm..

Dad: That's nice!

Bro1: So?

Bro2: I don't like your blog..

...

Amethyst: Can I have the mayonnaise?

Bro2: Why do you eat mayonnaise with everything?

7bbti: Tara ymaten!

Amethyst: Can I have the mayonnaise?

Bro2: You're gross!

7bbti: It's extras you don't need.

Amethyst: Can I have the mayonnaise?

Bro2: Why do you eat it with everything?

7bbti: You eat too much mayonnaise!

Amethyst gets up to get the mayonnaise herself.

Meals are the death of me in this house. Oh, and whether I eat just salad or a couple of plates of food, I still haven't eaten according to my mother. It's a thing with my aunts, as well.

Let's hope I leave the house some time soon so that they get rid of me. Oh, and let's hope I leave the house to a place where people will share my interests. And let's hope I don't lose it one day. It seems very likely at the moment.

B+

2008-06-09T15:53:00.001+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

THERE WAS ONCE*

Margaret Atwood

"There was once a poor girl, as beautiful as she was good, who lived with her wicked stepmother in a house in the forest."
"Forest? Forest is passé, I mean, I've had it with all this wilderness stuff. It's not a right image of our society, today. Let's have some urban for a change."
"There was once a poor girl, as beautiful as she was good, who lived with her wicked stepmother in a house in the suburbs."
"That's better. But I have to seriously query this word poor."
"But she was poor!"
"Poor is relative. She lived in a house, didn't she?"
"Yes."
"Then socio-economically speaking, she was not poor."
"But none of the money was hers! The whole point of the story is that the wicked stepmother makes her wear old clothes and sleep in the fireplace-"
"Aha! They had a fireplace! With poor, let me tell you, there's no fireplace. Come down to the park, come to the subway stations after dark, come down to where they sleep in cardboard boxes, and I'll show you poor!"
"There was once a middle-class girl, as beautiful as she was good-"
"Stop right there. I think we can cut the beautiful, don't you? Women these days have to deal with too many intimidating physical role models as it is, what with those bimbos in the ads. Can't you make her, well, more average?"
"There was once a girl who was a little overweight and whose front teeth stuck out, who-"
"I don't think it's nice to make fun of people's appearances. Plus, you're encouraging anorexia."
"I wasn't making fun! I was just describing-"
"Skip the description. Description oppresses. But you can say what colour she was."
"What colour?"
"You know. Black, white, red, brown, yellow. Those are the choices. And I'm telling you right now, I've had enough of white. Dominant culture this, dominant culture that-"
"I don't know what colour."
"Well, it would probably be your colour, wouldn't it?"
"But this isn't about me! It's about this girl-"
"Everything is about you."
"Sounds to me like you don't want to hear this story at all."
"Oh well, go on. You could make her ethnic. That might help."
"There was once a girl of indeterminate descent, as average-looking as she was good, who lived with her wicked-"
"Another thing. Good and wicked. Don't you think you should transcend those puritanical judgmental moralistic epithets? I mean, so much of that is conditioning, isn't it?"
"There was once a girl, as average-looking as she was well-adjusted, who lived with her stepmother, who was not a very open and loving person because she herself had been abused in childhood."
"Better. But I am so tired of negative female images! And stepmothers-they always get it in the neck! Change it to stepfather, why don't you? That would make more sense anyway, considering the bad behaviour you're about to describe. And throw in some whips and chains. We all know what those twisted, repressed, middle-aged men are like-"
"Hey, just a minute! I'm a middle-aged-"
"Stuff it, Mister Nosy Parker. Nobody asked you to stick in your oar, or whatever you want to call that thing. This is between the two of us. Go on."
"There was once a girl-"
"How old was she?"
"I don't know. She was young."
"This ends with a marriage, right?"
"Well, not to blow the plot, but-yes."
"Then you can scratch the condescending paternalistic terminology. It's woman, pal. Woman."
"There was once-"
"What's this was, once? Enough of the dead past. Tell me about now."
"There-"
"So?"
"So, what?"
"So, why not here?"

*Thanks, Z!

What Happens in Vegas

2008-06-09T00:00:00.002+03:00

I do NOT consider myself a responsible adult.. yet. Maybe some other day.. week.. month.. year? Anyways, so being my very sudden, crazy, spur-of-the-moment self, I gave myself the pleasure of a new experience today.

So, snippets of the yam3a:

A: She is just UGLY!
J: Yeah, she is!
A: She's just SO Black! You know, like there's mid-Black which is fine.. I'm not racist, I'm just saying.. Like there's Destiny's Child-
J: Kelly Rowland is SO Black!
A: Yeah, but there's good SO Black, and bad SO Black!

A: Why are you looking at me like that?
H: You're freaking me out!
A: I'm freaking you out because I'm happy?!
H: Yeah! I'm just not used to you like this!
A: WTF?! I was like this before I got depressed!
H: I like this happy you, but it freaks me out!

J walks over to the DVD player and pauses for two seconds: "Uuumm, so what do I have to do, now?"
A: "DUH! Put the DVD in the player!"

A: No, he is trustworthy.. He's just a bit... He's kinda like... I mean, he's such a.. You know how..
H turns to S: She's not saying full sentences!

A makes a face.
H laughs real hard.
A laughs hysterically.
J is kinda lost.

A makes the same face to J.
J laughs hysterically and hugs A.

A: You know, I'm happy because nothing matters anymore. There's no bad stuff going on in my life. I'm just happy!
J: Yeah, it's called "The F***IT!"
A: Really?
J: Yeah!
A: I'm so blogging that! (And here I am;p)

J and A are struggling to read "How much wood can a wood chuck chuck...."
H is staring amusingly.
A: HEY! There's a typo, this should be IF not IS! Oh, and another typo, it's missing the k! *laughs hysterically*

A: You are missing out on half of your life!
H: Chub ya 7mara!

H is talking at the door. J is being nudged by A. H is still talking at the door. A is still nudging J.
J: What?!
A: The movie!
H: Sh3endekum?
J points at A: She wants to watch the movie!
H: Ee ba3ad elbesat elnathara!

I'm sure there were more incidents, but I just can't remember them!;p

She Said He Said

2008-06-08T01:07:00.003+03:00

These thoughts are inspired by Justin Nozuka's "Mr. Therapy Man" video.

Have you ever wondered what's behind a clown's mask? The hyperbolic red and white smile isn't that real. I mean I always think about what people are hiding behind all their smiles and careless laughter, but now, I'm dead curious. I really wanted to know.

I even remember being told about this guy whom I am only barely acquainted with who wrote a play entitled Clowns. He had the clowns holding a balloon amidst a circus one second, and the next, the clowns are in a cemetery. Twisted genius?

With friends, I usually ask, "What are you thinking?" and "How are you feeling?" at random moments. Never with strangers, though. So, I know I'm taking this a bit too far, but I will ask the next time I bump into a clown. Hmm?

---

So, since I've been trying to use my mind and heart to bring back my happy self, here's a list of things that make me happy:

People who matter telling me I'm beautiful [Flattery]

Dad's I'm-proud-of-you look [Content]

Getting along with my mom after fallouts [Bliss]

Grades I feel I've earned [Achievement]

Good music, good art, and good books/literature [Heaven]

J's issue [Sheer Happiness]

Being comfortable in my own skin [Comfort]

A doing what is expected [Relief]

Surrouding myself with people I want to be with [Joy]

Not being afraid to cry and laugh at the same time [Hysteria]

Laughing uncontrollably for no reason [Myself]

What sins?

2008-06-07T14:59:00.005+03:00

I read this earlier this week, and I remembered my own graduation. I remembered myself on stage, giving my speech. Glancing at my weeping mother. Hugging her right after the ceremony was over and telling her I was going out with my friends to celebrate. And then, I read the article again, and I realized something. I didn't build my life away from her. She knew everything. Not almost everything.. just everything. I wondered if she felt the feelings the writer described in that article. And I wondered if maybe things would be different between us now had I lead a life she had no idea about. I don't know.

---

Happy Birthday, Kay Knight!

---

My friend, R, linked me to Banksy's artwork, and I'm in love. Here are some of my favorites:

And of course I have to mention that he turned one of my favorite Van Gogh paintings...

into this:

No Breakdowns

2008-06-06T01:59:00.006+03:00

I'm sitting at the table across from him. A sincere smile playfully testing my lips. I might not be ecstatic. Far from it. But I feel somewhat satisfied.

He's talking about a book. How it changed him. He's talking about how we allow mere written words to transform us. I think that's what we both have in common. We let books work their magic on us to the fullest extent. Everything and anything. Then, we find pleasure in the aftermath of the ideologies tested by the book. We find leisure in picking what we like and storing it in our minds forever. Bringing it up at every discussion.

He has just sucked out all the anger. All the negative vibes. I dissect a California Roll. Playing with food is an expertise, now. I can't seem to get myself to eat when experiencing unfamiliar feelings. I tell him to be quiet. A moment of silence to set things straight in my mind. Just a moment. I close my eyes.

I open them. Yes, so he was saying? He takes out a few papers. He knows I just cleared my head. I slip it out of his fingers. He winks. I smile at him, "What is it?" He tells me to read. "Don't tell me what to do," I tease.

I read. Tears stroll slowly down my cheeks. It's all true. How very observant. He expresses everything on my behalf in those papers. Yes, this is exactly how I feel. How does he know it? I haven't told him what I've been through these last few months. An emotional revolution. Something unpredictable.

I put the paper in my bag. I deny crying and order tea. I eat. He smiles. "What?" He shrugs. I start telling him about Cinncinatus C. That man. I smirk. That Nabokov. I wonder. That ending. I blink. He sits there observing it. All of it. Is he saving it for the next letter?

"Life isn't fair. We all get a share of good and bad, honey. It's not the end of the world. I have no idea what you've been through. I know it's intense because I've never seen you like this. I know I can't help. Just relax. It's over, isn't it? You've dealt with it thoroughly. I can tell. Push everything aside and know yourself. Celebrate who you are. Enjoy it. Enjoy your life. It'll be back on track in no time. You'll be way better off than the old you."

He reaches out for my hands. He didn't have to say that. I'm already beginning to feel happy. Disappointments aren't so significant anymore. Just a daily pinch of salt. No worries. Fried ice cream?

We walk out. A comfortable silence ensues. Music. All smiles. Both content. One of us partially content, the other fully. And an aftermath that's got nothing to do with books..

Disturbing

2008-06-05T13:41:00.004+03:00

I feel VIOLATED.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Hello?

Hey, you!

Hello? S? What is it?

You're calling to stay silent?

Don't be ridiculous! How can I sound beautiful?

Hehe, *******! What's up?

OMG! I know, right?! I was going to call you, but I was studying, and I had a feeling we'd be talking for hours;p

Yeah, whatever. Her loss, isn't it?

No, not this summer. Sorry. I kinda can't pack my bags and head wherever.

What do you mean why not?! Have you met my dad?!

*Laughter*

Those days...

They don't seem real to me. I can't even remember how you look. I can see things happen in front of me, but it's like I wasn't involved, you know?

Yeah, like a dream.

How's the weather?

Cold enough for Popsicle Season?;p

Traitor!;p

I know. It's like we never lost touch these past few months. I miss you. Blah.

Oh, shut up! I've always been this sentimental!

Yeah! You just couldn't look past the exterior.

Past the eyes. *Laughter*

Me? No!

Where'd you come up with such a thing?

And did your little bird mention who the luckiest man about to be crowned King of the World is?

Well, then, tell your little bird to **** off;p

Why wouldn't I?

See? I would if it were true.

Just lose those little birds of yours. They're so unneccessary.

I have a photo of that! I'm in this netball team uniform. I was skinny as hell and my legs were ew!

Never! It won't show up on any surface of my life!;p

It's DRASTIC!

D would understand! You're so inconsiderate when it comes to these things!

I know. I miss D, too. Good old days.

We both cried that day Clement read us that book about the aboriginals. You know the one where the white men were rabbits in black clothes?

How can you forget it! It's so famous where you are! It's your history!

Whatever. Any good books lately?

Done with that already.

Done.

Yes, done. Traumatizing. Oh, and I like Invitation to a Beheading way more.

Read it. It's so you. I'm positive you'd love it.

Oh, and when you read it, read it like you're in the cell with him. Like you're the spider or a chair or something. Don't read it as if you were him. No fun in that.

I'm not weird! It's just a different way of perceiving the character.

You'll get it. Read it like you're the spider, okay?

Start tonight;p

Hehehe, chub!

Okay, I have to go to the dunny!

Oh, you do?

Right. I promise I'll call you again before next month;p

Hehe, alright.

Me, too.

I'm always online;p

I know. You'll get more of the right timings next week. I have a break from school.

Alrighty.

I love you.

Bye.

Nonsensical Heartache

2008-06-04T15:52:00.004+03:00

[UPDATE] I seem to have confused some readers. The post is not what people have said to me, it's what I'm saying to people who matter in my life.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

S: I wish you could just step it up, but I don't feel like you want to. So, why do I still care?

Aj: I miss you.

J: You have no idea how happy I am for you, and I keep hoping that you enjoy every second of it;*

H: You've been there for me too many times. I don't know what I would do without you;*

R: You know how they say that the darkest hour of night is right before dawn? I believe in that. The worst things happen right before the great things. Hang in there. I'm here for you, babe, and I love you to bits and pieces;*

A: If only you could understand how hard it is for us..

7bbti: I wish things were different, but they're not. There's nothing more I can say about it:)

B: There's nothing to tell. Really. All you need to do is back off and give me some breathing space.

H: Missing you makes me uncomfortable. I don't know why. And I wish I could be there for you more. I don't know how I can do that though. I love you;*

S: "Is this the bovvered face that sits before thee?" I just had to!;p

F, S, and M: The department is going to feel so empty for the longest time;(

Z: Superman is not for real. You need to stop trying to save the world. Don't expect too much from yourself. RELAX!

---

Kay Knight's sweetness:

Pourquoi pas?

2008-06-03T00:14:00.002+03:00

Mirror, mirror, on the wall

At the end of my mind's hall...

I walk over to the mirror. And I stare. Why is that girl always staring back at me? Does she live in the mirror? Really, she should try and go other places. She could be a painting on the empty wall. Or maybe she could be a photo in a nice frame on the bedside table? She's always there. Staring back with empty eyes. She feigns emotion.

I try turning away from her and start focusing on myself, but most of the time, it just doesn't work. I mean, really, there's not much space in the mirror anyway. It's either her or myself that is there. It rarely is myself. On very rare occasions, I see myself staring back. And I cherish those moments, really.

Let me tell what she looks like. Frankly, this girl looks a lot like I do, except she's a phony. She has the messy unbrushed hair, the bangs that bring out her eyes, and the straight teeth. On most days, she's even wearing what I'm wearing! She even gives off the same vibe. Because if I was walking down the street and bumped into me, that's the vibe I would give off to myself.

How do I know she's a phony? Well, she's always stealing my feelings. She's in a pensive mood when I'm in a pensive mood. She's tired when I'm tired. She's happy when I'm happy. She's everything I am. Now, you know what I mean by her feigning emotions. I mean, I know she's trapped in that mirror, but can't she have a life of her own? Can't she have something go on in the mirror instead of trying to steal my moments with myself? Annoying, isn't it?

So, I think to myself, what if I break the mirror? Will she die in there? Or will she spread herself in the million little pieces of reflections? Or maybe I'll set her free? You know, these questions sometimes drive me to thinking of lifting the mirror high over my head with both hands and bringing it down hard on the floor. Hmm? What will happen then?

Today, when I glanced in the mirror, she gave off this psychotic air. She confused me a little. I felt myself going through that out of body experience where you're standing over yourself and sneering. You know? Of course, not. You're not me, you see. You don't deny that you are your reflection.

---

Above is an example of what happens when I pour my heart out on paper as an unrested, hormonal insomniac. Yes, I am psychotic at times. I don't bite, though. I just give murderous looks.

This morning, or rather, yesterday morning, Sou did a "well shameful" thing. Shame on you. But hey, you gave my mother the relief of knowing that my friends outdo my craziness, and therefore, I won't stand out in public. So, thank you for that. I'm kidding. It wasn't shameful at all. We should do more random stuff like that. I'm already thinking of dares for the summer course. The four of us will see each other everyday. Loads of time on our hands for more, "innit though?"

Grades, anyone?

2008-06-01T14:44:00.002+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

"Psyche" III

There are two worlds in her dream, and these two worlds blend into reality. She opens her eyes slowly. She closes them and opens them again. She takes a deep breath and sits up in bed. She closes her eyes again and meditates. She tries to clear her head of the blur that is a non-sequential chain of events. She rearranges the events in her head. Her eyes fly open.

Where has the Genpet wandered to? Relief. It is sitting on her desk. She throws the covers back and walks over to her desk, this time with a different perspective. Again, she smirks at the white word amidst the pink. Spiritual.

The Genpet doesn't know what spirituality is. It doesn't know who made it. It doesn't know that there are beings greater than it. It doesn’t know that is life is temporary. It doesn't know how to achieve spiritual advancement. But it is confident. It is adventurous. It is willing to take that step forward and risk… nothing.

She traces the pink block surrounding the word with her index finger. Will unleashing a race of these unpredictable confused species to venture into our world do it any good? There tabula rasa minds are dangerous, but they do seem to have the ability to gain the spirituality they are seeking. Or do they? Will they be like us? Will they question everything and then destroy if they do not get any answers? She walks away from it.
---

After sleeping for twelve hours one night, the next day my body decided to flip out and resist sleep by itself. I stayed up all night trying to sleep. But then, I realized that I couldn't no matter what. I thought. I read. I wrote. So, now, I'm cranky. I had a long day that's not even over yet. I have a final in two hours which I haven't studied for.

Feathers

2008-05-31T14:49:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Tagged by Big Pearls:)

These are the rules:

1. Link the person(s) who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

Quirks:

1- I don't eat gum. It disgusts me.

2- Sometimes, the characters in the books I read rub off on me, and I can't stop feeling what they're feeling until I sleep it off.

3- Music anytime anywhere sets me in motion whether physically or mentally.

4- I can look at myself in the mirror for hours.

5- I'm scared of throwing up.

6- Odd numbers, out of place hair, and noisy images (ex: a girl wearing leopard print from head to toe) annoy me.

I tag:

Sou
F.
Angel
Hussain
Kay Knight
N.

"I'll be you soon enough!"

2008-05-30T15:58:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I wasn't going to post the other two parts of "Psyche", but Soul ask for them. So, if you want to read the first part, click here, and here it goes:

"Psyche" II

The Genpet's mind is full of questions and answers. Who is this creature? Is this my master? Why is this strange being hovering over my head? Can it see into my existence? Can it read my thoughts?

My eyelids flutter. The beautiful creature is looking past my eyes. It is losing itself in my existence. Is there a way in which I can change my thoughts to affect hers?

I am perfect. I am beautiful. I am spiritual. What does that mean? I am spiritual? Why have I been conditioned to repeat that word in my head? Spiritual… Does it mean that I have a spirit? Do I have a spirit? What am I? What is the purpose of my existence?

Something within tells me that I am new, that there is a definite number of my kind. This number can increase. However, the result will be unknown. I wince at these thoughts. Am I betraying myself and my kind by thinking these thoughts? Again, can this creature roaming in my world read my thoughts and understand them fully? I gasp. It doesn't really come out as a gasp. It's just meant to be a gasp. A gasp of realization. A moment of epiphany.

I don't know what I am here for. I don’t know what spirituality is, yet I am expected to fulfill that as the time of my existence increases and then… Will I cease to exist? What is there after this confusing existence? What was before it? I glance down at myself. Perhaps, I can make sense of my physical nature.

My physical appearance seems similar to my observer. It does not move even though I am moving. I place my feet one before the other curious at the sound they will make when they hit the floor. The creature's gaze doesn't follow me…

***

And since I like being introduced to new/different music (mostly by J, Sou, Aj, and The Archer), I have to post this video from the CD J made me. I usually prefer male vocals, but this girl passed my test;)

Morphology&Syntax?

2008-05-28T19:40:00.004+03:00

I want to...

SCREAM!

But instead I...

Image from DeviantART

It's late..

2008-05-27T16:02:00.002+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

My mom needs to stop forcing me to eat.

If I change my name and move to Mexico, would it make a difference?

How about.. if I traded my life with Plainly?

My minor turned out to be taught in Arabic.

Define criminal.

I realized that I look and act nothing like my dad's side of the family. Actually, there is one thing, I share one eating habit with one of my uncles.

I wonder what the grandmother I never met would think of this blog.

I think a lot of people have a not so accurate idea of what it means to be liberal.

Ever wondered what you're stereotyped as? And if you live up to it?

I share a calculator with my father.

Is it possible to steal feelings?

So, who doesn't wear a mask?

Memory: I walk up a pedestrian road with my head down. Bag banging the side of my right leg, coffee in hand. The sun isn't up, yet. It's freezing. There's a cold fog. I sense someone approaching me, and I look up. She talks to me in Swedish. I shrug. She takes out a brochure of a health clinic. I turn it over. Yes, I know where it is. I tell her to follow me. It's on my way, anyway. We walk in silence. It was weird. When we got to the place, she smiled at me strangely and walked away. She didn't say a word. I wonder what happened to her.

For the first time in my life, Pop Art made me cry!

I'll use the 9 days of break to come to terms with my apparently psychotic self.

I'm listening to Savoretti intensively these days. I need to stop and try something new.

Finals have started. I'm so uncomfortable in that period. A break that isn't really a break. Oh, and my first finals without coffee. I'm curious how that would go.

If only I could scream loud enough for the whole world to hear...

This video is amazing. I can't stop watching it. The part where he wipes the tear, and the paint reappears... Damn! It's just so satisfying!

Forty-one!

2008-05-26T19:10:00.003+03:00

"Life is sweetest before the feelings are awake - until one learns to know joy and pain."

-Sophocles

Thanks, J;*

After what?

2008-05-25T16:25:00.003+03:00

I'm sitting in the living room reading Invitation to a Beheading. I'm indulging myself after a long day, and Nabokov is painting colors and feelings in my mind and heart.

Mom: Did you have lunch?

Me: *looking up* No, I'm not hungry.

Mom: When was the last time you ate?

Me: I had a little piece of cookie at around noon.

Mom: When was the last time you ate?

Me: Yesterday, I think?

Mom: Are you becoming an anorexic?

Me: Anorexics don't eat ice cream.

---

Bro1: Why are you wearing black?

Me: I'm only half dressed. I was wearing white, too.

Bro1: You look weird!

Me: *looking down at my cotton black dress* Okay?

Bro1: Go change!

Me: Huh?

Bro1: You look like a psychotic version of you!

---

Dad: Are you going to have lunch?

Me: I don't know. I need to shower before I decide.

Dad: You didn't shower?

Me: Is my hair wet?

Dad: Why are you here reading then?

Me: I'm escaping reality for two minutes.

Dad: *Laughs* Why?

Me: Because I'm tired, and I don't want to think of all the things I have to do.

Dad: I wonder what would happen if your books finished.

Me: That's why they won't. They like to keep you wondering.

---

Bro2: Hey!

Me: Hey..

Bro2: What are you reading?

Me: A Nabokov that wouldn't interest you

Bro2: Why?

Me: Because it interests me!

Bro2: No, I meant why wouldn't it interest me?

Me: Yeah, that's what I answered.

Btw, my brother doesn't read. If a book "interests" him, I read for him.

---

Next time, I'll just read in my room.

My Own Little Hypocrisy

2008-05-24T17:39:00.006+03:00

Check out the baby's face at the very end;p

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Every time I babysit my cousin's kids, they ask me to tell them a story. I have a thing with storytelling. I fine it hard to tell them the common fairytales. Usually, I turn to Hans Christian Andersen. However, last week, my cousin's boy kept insisting I tell him "qesat eltheeb." And, so I did. I sat there telling him three different wolf stories.

Later, I thought about when he will realize that if a wolf does eat someone, you can't cut up his tummy and get the person he swallowed out. How about princesses? Not all pretty girls will find a prince charming. They'll grow up believing that until they are slapped in the face by an inconsiderate male. Again, they'll find out that nothing ends in a complete happily ever after, if there is a happily ever after at all.

I remembered my days as a kid when I used to question all the events in the story. People stopped telling me stories. My parents started buying me books. That didn't really stop the questions. And for the longest time, I believed that only evil people felt pain. And now, I realize that there is no prince charming that can handle the extent of emotion that a damsel in distress goes through.

So, why do we tell these stories to our kids? Why do we paint a world with rainbows and butterflies that weren't caterpillars? Why do we teach them that evil can be undone when it can't?

Next time, I'll make sure I twist the stories, so that they are less misleading...

---

Don't you just love this version of Chopin's "Fantasie Impromptu?" The best I've heard yet...

She killed my birds!

2008-05-23T15:17:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

She goes out for a drive. An hour and a half of sleep did not allow her to sleep off any of her thoughts. She drives with her windows down, hoping some of her thoughts would fly out the window. She wonders how her thoughts would mark the road if they were to fly out. She smiles at the thought of streaking the roads with fiery magenta, serene turquoise, and hopeful violet.

She looks down at her white pants and white shirt. She wishes her life could be that white. It is pure, but it is not blank nor simple. Far from it. She glances at her puffy eyes in the rearview mirror. She knows she looks drained. Is there anything she can do about it? Probably not.

She parks in the middle of nowhere. She is very lost, but she does not care. She steps out of the car and leans on it. There's a soft hot breeze blowing. Her shirt is caught in wisps of air. She looks down. Her feet, in white flip flops, seem ugly. There's nothing interesting to see. But what could be interesting anyway? She does not even know where she is. Ridiculous.

A few more minutes and she's back in the car. She does not know where to go. The windows are still down. Music plays, but the volume is three. She knows the music well. There is no need to increase the volume and have the whole world hear it. She starts the engine and takes a deep breath.

She drives aimlessly. She does not make an effort to look for clues on where she should go. She is out of credit. She does not even want to call anyone and ask for directions. She drives checking off thoughts in her mind, ending each one with a sense of closure. That way, there is more of a chance she can get some sleep when she gets home. If she gets home.

An hour later, she is singing along with the music that is playing: "Mr. Therapy Man how can I live on?" She is heading home, now, her body covered with a light shiny film of sweat. She knows where to go. She could not care less about her tear-streaked face or her crumpled shirt. Her family has already noticed that her life has shifted in a way.

She walks through the big door of where she lives. She wipes her face with her sleeves and puts on a sincere smile. She hugs her parents and playfully punches her brothers. Her parents ask her where she went. She looks up and says, "Nowhere, I was just around the corner the whole time." They exchange a look. They know she is lying, but they do not ask anymore questions. So, she heads upstairs.

She takes off the only pants that fit her perfectly after her weight loss and walks over to her special chair. What now? She picks up a book her friend has lent her. No, she is not in the mood for disturbing stories. She gets up and throws herself on her bed. She lies there with her eyes closed for a while. No sleep. She gets up again and signs in from the laptop. The only person she can talk to is online. But what does she say? She says nothing that has been on her mind for a long time now. She silences her thoughts and stays uncomfortable in her own skin. She ignores her restlessness and stares at and through the screen.

She shrugs every once in a while. As if she is shrugging off all her worries. And she takes a deep breath after she shrugs. As if she is cleansing her soul. And after that, she smiles. As if the world does not know what is behind her sincere smile. So, she laughs at herself. Not in pity, but in wonder.

---

And this made me angry.

Impromptu Life

2008-05-22T17:33:00.007+03:00

[UPDATE] Since many liked the idea, I tag The Archer for an "I am" post;)

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

A puts me through this every once in a while. This is the most recent. And I love how A is a mystery on this blog;)

I am. I am the little girl who broke her arm in second grade because her cousin lent her roller skates that were too big for her. I am the lady who observes passers by in wonder because they have a life just like and just not like hers. I am the person with a purple internal self. I am the girl who asked her mom if everyone in the world will feel pain. I am the little girl who refuses to cry in front of people, and when she does, she denies it with tears rolling down her cheeks. I am the woman who isn't afraid to cry when she's alone. I am the little girl who stares through people she can't understand. I am the girl whose hand is shaky when she's upset. I am the friend who won't let her friend take antidepressants. I am the woman who doesn't want to go back to being emotionally safe. I am the control freak who needs anxiety pills. I am the girl who learned to bottle things up and not spill them. I am the woman who misplaced her heart somewhere down the road. I am the girl who smiles through her fears and disappointments. I am the little girl who cried for her dad when she had a nightmare as a teenager. I am the lady who blinks back pity when the person she's talking to looks into her eyes. I am the friend who pushes her issues aside to play therapist. I am the person typing this without doubt.

A, okay? Anything else?

---

To watch the actual video, click here. Embedding is disabled;\

Zendagi Migzara

2008-05-21T16:39:00.007+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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"Psyche"

The new packaged Genpet sits on her desk. She looks at it, hesitating whether or not she should free this thing from its plastic packaging. Her dad must be crazy for buying such a grotesque looking half-living creature. She can actually bring it to life, but does she want to?

She keeps staring at it. The Genpet looks like a peaceful sleeping baby. She imagines that the ugliest baby is better looking than the most beautiful Genpet. She gets out of bed and walks closer to her desk. She gazes at the package. The top right of the package is marked with a heart monitor. Under the pulse is a block of pink with the word "Spiritual" embedded in white. Spiritual? She smirks at the word. This hideous animal-like bio-engineered product is capable of being spiritual?

She has always believed that spirituality is something limited to humans. Will this Genpet have a spirit once she brings it to life? Will it have spirit enough to be "spiritual" like the package says? Will it surpass mere physical existence? The thoughts roll in and out of her head continuously, mentally draining her.

She goes to her bed and lies down, still staring at the bizarre restrained creature that could be set free easily. Maybe too easily? At that, she drifts off into transparent sleep. Her threads of thought weave and unweave to stitch together a quilt of events.

The pulse on the heart monitor slides horizontally. She blinks to make sure. Yes, the Genpet's heart monitor is pulsating. The Genpet blinks, too. Its eyelids glide up to reveal piercing ice blue eyes. Its eyes are as profound as a human's. Does this profoundness advocate its spirituality? She keeps wondering as she unties the chains on its limbs.

The Genpet moves. She registers every baby move it makes. It walks on two feet rather than on all four like animals. It's more human-like than any animal she has ever seen. Is it meant to resemble human beings? Does its mind function like mine?

Suddenly, she finds herself in complete darkness. She doesn't know it, but she is in the mind of the Genpet. The place is pitch black for a while. She blinks several times before she can see dots of soft pink light. She walks towards them.

* * *
.
Yes, it's too long for one go. I'll post the next two parts later.

Sabre Tooth

2008-05-20T17:10:00.006+03:00

It's just not the same...

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Do you know how it feels fighting for something logical and nonsensical all at once? Contradicting yourself, or who you thought you were all along, and then, realizing that you're up against your whole life rather than just one simple issue? Having a moment of epiphany which shows you that life shouldn't be conditioned? I'm so mentally and emotionally TIRED!

Oh, and screw migraines. The vein next to my right eye is popping out, and it looks damn ugly!

On a lighter note (sarcastically), this is just plain old OUCH! I sure as hell hope she feels better. I just despise entertaining such thoughts and feelings even though they're there. Cruel world is an understatement. On another (not so sarcastic) lighter note, I still think I'll be happy. Pathetic, I know...

---

Anyways, one of my professors decided that we write a short story about Genpets instead of a midterm. So, here, here, and here are a few links before I share my squeezed out during writer's block short story.

---

I better go work and study.

Have I mentioned that I have a witch of a migraine?

Indifferent, really

2008-05-19T18:37:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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It truly feels like summer. Cold AC. Minimum clothing. Fresh bed covers. Good books. No routine. Just me in bed. Reading and sleeping without a sense of time. Until school happens.

---

I've been asked...

[Day of elections]

Woman: Why aren't you married?

Me: I'll marry when I can vote! *FAJ2A!*

Mom: Hathi benti.

Dr. N: Oh! *shocked look* Mashallah et`habel!

Me: Heh? *thinking why she's surprised that I look good*

Girl: Laish ma tebtasmain?

Me: *Stares*

Girl: Hehehe, et`tha7keen!

Me: *Walks away thinking why strangers are asking weird questions*

Old lady: Bentech cham 3umirha? *looking at my cousin's daughter*

Me: Hehe, bent bent khalti, kamelat 3yrs.

Old lady: Wentay wain e3yalech?

Me: Ana mu metzawja:)

Old lady: Haw, ya 7afeth, sh7aga? Elreyayeel 3emyan?!

Me: Taw elnass:)

Old lady: Laish taw elnass?! Ana youm kent kubrech kan 3endi 3ala elaqal 3 yahal...

Me: *Mental eye-rolling fiesta*

Lady: Hatha semach wela deyay? *pointing at something in the buffet*

Me: Deyay w dakhla sabanekh:)

Lady: Ya 7elwech bas!

Me: *Huh?*

My mom: Wayhech ta3ban.

Me: Adri.

My mom: Ee saway shay, tadreen w chethi 9ayer?

Me: Ee, cuz ma etyeeni nouma w wayed a7es 3endi ashya2.

My mom: Ee, namay!

Me: Ma etyeeni nouma!

My mom: Haw, ensad7ay befrashech w sakray 3ainech w betyeech elnouma bedal ma lazga elketab b wayhech w tegrain..

Me: Yumma, 7bbti, ana ma agra ela 3ugb ma ansede7 sa3a wana emsakra 3aini w ashouf eni mara7 anam. Kel wa7ed y3arf nafsa..

My mom: Betrou7een 7ag istiqbal ********?

Me: La:)

My mom: Laish? Mu ahalech?!

Me: Embala ahali, fi blood bas ma a3arefhum.. Arou7 abarek 7g meno?

My mom: Haw, rou7ay w ta3arefay!

Me: Mabi azeed my circle of acquaintances, mashkoooooooora. Khasa mn 6araf ahalech, law sema7tay. Kelkum etsawoun 3azayem ezyada 3n el lezoum. Mabi an3ezem;\

My mom: Madry entay 6al3a 3ala meno!

Me: Uuuhhh, ana adri! Athakrech b da3wat omech?

Complete stranger: I like your shoes.

Me: Thank you *quizzical glance*

Complete stranger: What do you study?

Me: Literature *friendly smile*

Complete stranger: Thought so:)

Me: How come?

Complete stranger: Your shoes! *like it's obvious and I'm stupid for not getting it*

Me: *Nervous laugh* Right! *Walks away hoping we're not introduced later on*

Weird?

Laish ma tebtasmain?

2008-05-17T22:06:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Waiting patiently for the results of the elections...

---

I sit cross-legged on my bed surrounded with marked books, newspaper clippings, and papers. I go through them one by one, willing myself to comprehend the world. A motorcycle accident I witnessed years ago flashes through my mind when I glance at the article. An article about how people prefer "The Road Not Taken" triggers a series of thirsty questions. A book about a lady Burned Alive in her own country due to social chains brings to mind the many that have gone and are going through what she has. And then, I remember a book that I never got back, One Hundred Years of Solitude, and I smile at the magic of Macondo. I turn to the piles of paper, and I hesitate. I pick one up.

I read something I wrote ages ago. I am the same different person, now. Funny how the pages tell me that I was lost back then, as well. In a different way, of course. I pick another paper up. It ends with "Why not?" I remember the many times I said that in order to justify my reading. I pick another paper up. A definition of beauty. That hasn't changed. Slight alterations in my choice of words. I pick another one up. I blink twice. I smile. I tear up. I still smile.

I can never forget those days. The days I was challenged to answer questions about my existence, my life, and my purpose. Each question is written with a sophisticated hand. Then, the answer. The answers. Like the rules demanded, in blue or black ink. No corrections. If a thought seems incomplete, put a period. Go on. Don't scratch things out. Leave them the way they are. This way, I'll learn who I am. I read them all. Every single word.

I haven't changed. Not really.

The Kite Runner

2008-05-16T11:52:00.001+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Setting: A frequently visited library in the house of A. The windows are open despite the heat. Both A and I are sitting on the floor, their legs stretched out in front of them, their backs to opposing walls. The smell of Chinese noodles merges with the smell of dusty books. There's music playing in the background of their conversation. The color of the scene is blue.

A: So, what happened to you?

I: What happened to me?

A: Yeah, what happened to you?

I: You weren't there for me when everything happened. Why do you feel like you have the right to know?

A: I wasn't there for you because you were being stubborn.

I: Accusations will only lead to another fight...

A: So, what changed you?

I: I'm not changed. I'm just a bit more grown up. *cracks a sincere smile*

A: *Raises an eyebrow* And you're a bit more grown up because?

I: Because life's cruel?

A: Life's cruel? What've you been living since you were born?

I: Some strange reality?

A: Called life?

I: Called the attempt of life?

A: *Laughs*

I: What?

A: You never give up!

I: Why would I?

A: Because I'm trying to break the ice and get you to spill!

I: There is no ice. It melted the moment I agreed to seeing you, darling. Now, I refuse to spill.

A: Okay, give me an idea of what happened.

I: Something unpredictable happened, and it brought out a different side of me.

A: That's it?

I: That's it.

*Silence. A is staring at I. I is pretending to read her book. She's staring at the page, and her mind is wandering to some other place. She snaps back to reality when A coughs.*

I: Why are you staring at me?

A: I'm trying to read you.

I: You can't.

A: Why not?

I: Because what you're trying to read is gone. I let it all out last week before closure. *laughs nervously*

A: Does that mean you're happy now?

I: Why should it?

*Silence again, and like the previous silence, I pretends to read her book, and A stares at her.*

A: We never talked like this before.

I: Yeah, we did! The time you were trying to get me to understand where I would be crossing the line of "social boundaries".

A: *Laughs loudly* That doesn't count. You were upset.

I: I wasn't upset. You weren't explaining things correctly.

A: I didn't know what exactly there was to explain.

I: *Grins* Exactly, you were bullshitting philosophically 3ala rasi!

A: *Laughs again*

I: Hmm?

A: It wasn't meant to be like that.

I: But it turned out that way, now, apologize for confusing me even further instead of straightening things out!

A: *Still laughing* Ridiculous!

I: Hehehe, I know.

A: Read aloud.

I: I don't feel like it.

A: Read dramatically, feel it.

I: Mali khelg. I can't.

A: Mu bkaifech!

I: Fine, but not this book. Let me get something else from the shelves.

A: Poetry?

I: Arabic or English?

A: Shayfa wayhech tabeen tegrainli 3arabi?!

I: *Cracks up* I can do Elyah Abu Mathi really well!

A: 9alay 3al nebi bas.. Pick something else.

I: *Walking around, looking at the shelves* Walt Whitman?

A: Whitman will do.

I: *Leans on the shelf and opens up to her favorite part*

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you..."

*A few minutes later*

"A Phantom arose before me, with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said;"

*Still later*

"But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead."

*Later, after the Whitman has ceased to delay A's curiousity any further*

A: So, what happened to you?

I: You can't be serious.. Now, who do you feel bad for more, the Captain or the persona?

A: The Captain. You're ignoring my question.

I: Why the Captain? Yes, I'm ignoring your question.. Intentionally.

A: *Stares at I helplessly* You're shutting me off.

I: I know. Will it comfort you if I tell you that you're not the only person I'm shutting off when it comes to this?

A: No. I'm not one of your friends.

I: I know. I could tell a stranger, A, but I can't tell you or anyone who knows me as well as you do.

A: You're scared.

I: Terrified. And I won't let you in. You'll only make things worse.

* A walks over*

I: Please, don't touch me. I'm okay. I'll be fine.

A: Okay.

I: *Smiles* You read for me this time. *Handing over a book to A*

A: *Takes in a deep breath and sits on the floor at I's feet*

"She had read my newspaper articles, my stories, and my only novel... Yet I did nothing but elude the traps of nostalgia with the mean-spirited cowardice that only men are capable of..."

3atham Allah Ajerkum

2008-05-13T21:35:00.000+03:00

90% C.I.

2008-05-13T08:07:00.008+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

A bits and pieces post.. I am feeling much better. I've been able to clear my head and come to terms with myself. Thinking positive...

---

What is it about the world that we fail to understand? What is it about life, then?

Life as I have come to understand it is a series of unpredictable events. Some good. Some bad. Some somewhere in between. However, I see everything as somewhere in between. I don't know how to explain it. So, I won't kill my mind trying.

Moving on... I've decided to be happy. Even if it means sweeping certain events and feelings under the rug. I don't care how long it takes. I've also decided that I will take on the damage any of the sweeping will cause later on. That is, if I allow any damage to happen. It seems to me from my previous statement that I truly have my life under control although it was all over the place the past few months.

I really never thought I could be this weak with emotions. Ravished by overwhelming unfamiliarity. Possessiveness. Everything beautiful. All at once. Again, it's overwhelming. At least I'm elevated in a good way at the moment.

---

She smiles at him. Helpless. Not knowing what to think or say or how to act around him anymore. She's at loss for words. She can't remember how she used to be because she was herself. Now, what?

Something is bringing her down. Negative thoughts are swirling in her head. Confusion on who she is is overwhelming her. But.. there is a sense of relief. Where does it come from? She mentally shrugs because she can't let people know that she is conversing with herself in her mind.

It's him and his ways that save her from screwing her life some more. She feels guilty for being the cause of his worry. She just couldn't help it. Really.

He's smiling back. And she's wondering what he's thinking...

Hiatus?

2008-05-10T11:53:00.003+03:00

BEFORE

A few nights ago, I went to a dinner I was invited to. I decided to be observant. I was tired, and being quiet and reflective wasn't a challenge. I took on the role of Nick Carraway in Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby.
That was fun. Really. How people look at other people. How they smile at each other. How they eat, punishing their food for what other people are saying. Strange. Everything changes when you withdraw and look at the scenario as a member of the audience. A person who is watching a "slice of life."

---

Is any girl reading this an only daughter? Do you get dragged to social events? Forced to attend 3azayem? Have your outfits been checked and double-checked? Your make up and hair scrutinized? Please say yes. Otherwise, blekh!

---

More pictures that express how I feel. I'm doing this because I don't think I'm willing to find words to describe what's going on inside.

AFTER

I cried last night. My silent tears soon turned into loud muffled sobs. I cried with my whole body. I cried so physically hard, it took me two hours to muster enough energy to get out of bed.

I have a migraine.

Don't ask what happened. Don't expect much the next few days. I'm at complete loss for words.

Hubris

2008-05-08T16:17:00.005+03:00

This reminded me of some friends of mine. You know who you are. The ones who do weed impressions mn elseb7, ask me if I got them "the stuff", w *cough* elbaji 3arfeen rou7kum. Good times. Lol, a7ebkum;*

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

He sits in his car. He contemplates getting out to see her. She's always there. Sitting and laughing with her friends. Talking about how men do women wrong. Covering her mouth with her fingers when she eats. She makes him nervous. That stiff concrete wall of confidence she is building between his attempts to approach her and herself.

He turns the car key to silence the engine. He's only a two minute walk away from her. From her alluring eyes and suggesting smile. He smiles as the image of her lights up the dark room of his mind. The light shines through the thick black walls of his skull and through his eyes. His eyes glint. He realizes that his palms are sweaty. Is he that nervous? Why does the thought of her fill him with the impatience of seeing her? He hits the steering wheel with a fist of determination.

He locks his car and listens to the sound his steps are about to make when they hit the gravel. He checks his reflection in one of the windows. His laid-back style, unshaven face, and profound eyes stare back at him. Nothing seems to be good enough for her. He walks in through the door. His heart skips a beat. She's there in her white glory. He greets the group of people sitting at her table. Yes, it's her table. She rules the world in his eyes. She smiles and nods at him. He gazes into her eyes. She's not looking at him anymore. But he gazes into her eyes.

He sits at the table. Not really there. Able to make the right talk at the right time. Yet, he feels like he is there to simply watch. He watches her eyelashes flutter, hiding then revealing the magic of her looks. He watches her lips curl to reveal straight white teeth. He watches how her fingers fly up to her mouth after she takes a bite of her food. He watches her play with her necklace, rings, and phone. Fidgeting while absorbed in indulging herself in ways to express her thoughts. He watches her cheeks blush gently and gradually when she realizes that he is watching her.

Soon, she gets up to leave. She is asked to stay by many, but she insists that she has to leave. She gives logical yet usatisfactory reasons for her departure. He sighs in anticipation of a hint on when and where he will see her again. As usual, she leaves him suspended in mid-sigh. He'll never have enough of her.

She leaves him there, basking in the delirium of her aftermath..

"I'm a good girl, I am!"

2008-05-07T18:57:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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If you haven't watched this, yet. Please do;p

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YA JIMA3A BULLETI W OUTKASTY MASEKHOUHA! WELA SHRAYKUM?!;\

---

Images that express how I feel..

Archimedes' Eureka

2008-05-05T17:52:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I chide my insomniac self. Staying up all night, thoughts swimming around in my head. That can't be good. Right? When the thoughts get too intense, too confusing, I pick up a book. Only to find out that it increases the profoundness of the thoughts that I am trying to get rid of. At times, I meditate. And for a while, my mind is blank of everything except a nonexistant spot hanging in mid air and the sound of my systematic breath. But.. only for a while.

I wake my sleeping phone. I decide to call someone who would exhaust me mentally until I feel sleepy enough to close my eyes and get lost. It's not difficult to decide who to call. But then, I hesitate. How selfish of me to disturb other people in the middle of the night or at the break of dawn! I kill my phone again.

Then I realize that only one thing will cure this thought addiction. I walk over to my shelves. I take a pencil and tap it against my pouted lips while I look for paper. Should I write in one of my notebooks or on loose leaf? I smirk at myself. Why is that so important?

I sit on my bed. I tap the pencil against one of the numerous scattered pillows. I can't write. Too many thoughts. Too many ideas. Too much to spill. Too much. I try to scribble until I come up with something that makes sense... Nothing. Not one thing. Not even a sentence fragment.

I sigh and push back my freshly cut bangs. The strands rush back home. Then, I do what I always do. I bite down on the end of the pencil. And I curl a strand of hair around my index finger. Over and over and over again. And my mind starts functioning under the magical combination of stress and insomnia. Generating thoughts. Putting them in order. Evaluating them. Making sure they aren't nonsensical.

Ha! I take the pencil out of my mouth. My mom would be appalled at all those bite marks. I put it against the paper. And I write... I write this. I spill out the daily routine resulting from my confusion. Who am I, really?

"Men"

2008-05-04T18:02:00.004+03:00

I love my friends. Really. Not because it's that time of the month. I love them for dealing with my crappy identity crisis. I love them for being crazy with me when I feel like it. I love them for listening when I don't really have anything to say. I love them for all the comfortable silences that we don't have to fill even if it's on the phone. Yes, silent phone conversations. Do you mind?! I love them for understanding me without me having to say much or anything even. I love them for being themselves in this strange world. A7ebkum yal zift w 7ada thank you;*

---

My answer to the previous post would be either:

I think, therefore I write.

I think, therefore I cry.

---

I lie in bed. One hand turning my mobile over on its sides. The other hand curling a strand of my hair. And I think. I think, therefore I write.

Strange, isn't it? This world. It's just confusing. And it's confusing me. And it's questioning everything I do, believe, think, or say. Why?! Why everything?!

Why does everything have to be so right and wrong at the same time? Why do my loved ones have to go through heartbreak after heartbreak? Why can't I make people who are down feel better? Why do I cry when it's not me who's going through hardships? Why are the rules of society ridiculously stupid? Why is literature underrated?!

I sigh. I turn over my mobile some more. I let it slide through my fingers. I turn it over some more. Silence. Just my phone against the covers. And in my head. Just my phone against the covers. And then, in my head, it's me breathing. It's me existing. It's not me confusing myself on why the world is the way it is. It's just me.. alive.

I continued this, but the laptop crashed, and it didn't save. So, now.. It's gone.

Passion

2008-05-03T13:04:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I've been intending to post some of my writing for a while, now. However, I feel like crap. I've been throwing up since last night. I have no energy to think. So, instead.. You will be the unfortunate victims of another sentence completion thing that I've been wanting to ask since forever.

---

Rene Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am."

You say, "I think, therefore I..."

Surprise me.

P.S. There are no rules. I'll share mine when you guys are done, but you are free to guess;)

Shmexi Haircut

2008-04-30T16:36:00.001+03:00

Be there!

I still miss Sou

2008-04-28T19:03:00.003+03:00

I feel weird. I haven't eaten anything since the afternoon, like 5 or so hours ago, and I just finished watching Becoming Jane and crying my eyes out. Everything feels misplaced. Oh, and my heart feels misplaced. Chena mukana wayed ghala6 w it's beating all wrong;\

4O minutes later..

I just had a meal with my mom, who is beginning to believe that I am anorexic.. AGAIN! We've been having a few irregular ups and downs lately, but this conversation reminds me why I love her so much. She didn't make the weird feeing go away. Neither did the Chinese food I just ate;\

You know, my grandmother from my mom's side (the one I'm named after but died before I was brought into this cruel world) prayed that each child of hers would have a child who is exactly like their parent. I'm that blessing. I'm my mom. Really.

I look like her. I talk like her (with more gestures). I smile like her. I laugh like her. I play with my hair like her. I steal her stuff like she steals mine (but I don't deny it like she does). I sip tea like her. I even wear my rings on the same fingers she does. It's strange.

But what was my grandmother really thinking? I mean, did she only want us to act the same? Shouldn't she have wanted us to think the same? When it comes to our minds, we're worlds apart. It scares people. It scares us. It scars our relationship. Again, it's strange.

It's a small world. Yesterday, I found out that one of my fellow blogger friends is the cousin of my friend. Today, I hang out with someone who is with H in her department. I don't think I like that it's a small world. Everyone knows everyone. That's boring.

I have homework and a quiz. I don't feel like neither. I want to read, but the book I'm reading now is so slow. I feel like curling my hair, as well. Oh, and I'm cutting my hair after tomorrow.

Ya nass, wain Bulletii? Seriously! Did I miss something?

English Day is coming up. You're all invited;p

I miss Sou

2008-04-27T15:48:00.003+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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The Archer, this one is for you. I couldn't resist;p

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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The concert on Friday was simply amazing! There were singers, pianists, guitarists, flutists (?), a violinist, and a drummer. Although one of my favorite songs was ruined, I liked most of the pieces. My favorite of the night was "Passion", a piece by three guitarists and a flutist (ee kaify, it's a word now). It was SO good. I had to leave 3 pieces before the end of the concert, but I saw what I had to see to know that I would so go again! I might post videos and pictures some time soon.

Oh, and Aj, your fingers make great music;)

---

About the previous post, my best physical feature is definitely my eyes.

---

What's up with the entekhabat? A relative of mine is a candidate, and I couldn't be bothered. I mean, the whole family is working for the sake of this family relation. My mom keeps nagging me about not doing anything to help with the campaign, and I keep telling her that I'm not interested. I know he's a relative. I know he has good ideas. That doesn't mean if I could vote, I would vote for him.

Well, sometimes I go out by myself, and I..

2008-04-23T21:14:00.005+03:00

[UPDATE] Musical Concert tonight at the Abdulaziz Theatre in Mishref, next to the jam3eya @7.30pm.

[UPDATE2] The question is: What do you think is your best physical feature? So, what other people think is not important;p

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Being ravished by a foreign unfamiliarity of emotions..

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Barkooli: I slept for two and a half hours today! I woke up with a headache, but I don't care! I slept well even if it was a short time!

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A question for my fellow bloggers and readers:

What do you think is your best physical feature?

PS. You can guess which feature I think is my best if you want:)

Coffee

2008-04-22T18:19:00.004+03:00

I had a weird morning and afternoon. I woke up feeling like crap. I wore my emergency outfit. I rushed out the door and headed to school. After my first class, I met up with three friends under the mathalat malout the staff's parking lot, and we listened to good music. That flipped my mood. Even though I suspect that my professor saw us doing subtle dance moves while singing loudly, I didn't care.

Two classes later, my mood is flipped because one of my favorite people is too tired to show up at college, and so, I decided to ditch my usual hang out place and drive around with R. An hour later, Sou joins us, and we head to Coffee Bean. We sang our hearts out in the car. I love you guys. 7adkum you made my day. Until.. blekh! I won't go there.

THEN, I headed to class all distracted. I seriously could not understand anything. There was no point. So, I just sat there texting my mom and the person who decided not to show up who then decided to show up. Another mood flip.

I excused myself 20 minutes into my next class. I had a dose of therapy. I hung out with my friends. After that, I felt empty. I drove home with a blank mind. Seriously, I was thinking of nothing. I wasn't even listening to the music that was playing in the background of the emptiness.

Now, my behind hurts. Ouch. I was going to continue the rest, but mali khelg all of a sudden. I think I need to sleep more than a few hours a day. Oh, and Sou + R, "Stop making a fool out of meeee... Why don't you come on over, Valerie?"

Ladybug or Ladybird?

2008-04-21T16:34:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Who the hell do you think you are? What are you doing? You sit and decide who your next target is? And then, what? You go around telling people unspeakable things? I pity you. I look down on you. Really, I do. I didn't really care when you said stuff about me, but saying what you said about one of the people who mean more than a lot to me is where you cross the line. I hope one day you go through what I'm going through now. Maybe then you'd realize how pitiful you are. And maybe, if you have any emotions, you'd realize what wrath is. For now, you're a piece of nothing. You're nothing. I belittle you because you're nothing.

I had to get that out. Otherwise I'd walk up to that person and spit in his/her face.

---

EVENTS:

There's a concert on Friday, in the Abdulaziz Theatre in Mishref, next to the jam3eya @7.30pm. It's by students from the College of Basic Education and Kuwait University. Should be fun.

English Day. The invitation is posted here, and it has all the information.

There's Palestinian Film Week in Khaldeya (KU campus, the Memorial Hall next to Ahli Bank) this week, as well. The movies start at 7pm.

---

I've been too tired to type what I've written. What is it with not being able to eat or sleep? I literally can't force food down my throat at times. Sometimes, it looks revolting. I can't sleep. I close my eyes and clear my head. I can't sleep. Really. I usually give up and read or write, but I still need to sleep. Any remedies besides showering, meditating, lavender, and exhausting myself until I'm too tired to move?

---

Shout outs:

A, you might want to call me back. I have something that would interest you, but let's stay formal.

Aj, cheer up!

Angel + Silver, Happy Birthday;*

HAJS, I miss you, but I love you more;*

R, we're in the same boat. How shitty are you feeling today?;p

Jam3a Buddies, thanks for existing. A7ebkum (Well, most of you, and you know who you are);*

The Archer, thanks for the talk.. Really:)

And you guys, I'm not sorry that my blog hasn't been that exciting lately because it's reflecting me, but things will be different soon. I started with spicing up Poshlust;D

Pygmalion

2008-04-19T15:35:00.006+03:00

These past two months have been exhausting. I am done writing a paper on G.B. Shaw's "Life Force", but I can't stop thinking about that theory. I always believed that I should start with myself when it comes to making the world a better place, but now, it seems like I don't even know who I am. My individuality has been shaken. It has eroded gradually these past two months or so.

Our professor sang these lines from a Michael Jackson song a couple of mornings ago:

I'm starting with the man in the mirror

I'm asking him to change his ways

And no message could have been any clearer

If you want to make the world a better place

For the rest of the day, these words ring in my ear. I have thought over and over again, how can I start with myself when I don't know who I am any more? Is what I'm going through an identity crisis? Or is it mere confusion?

I keep looking at myself. I'm still me, but I'm a shaken version of me. My personality is the same. I think. But my beliefs and morals are all chaotic and contradictory. I'm angry at the world. Really. I'm angry at the life that I once loved so dearly. I'm angry at the loved ones that didn't raise me to be strong enough to handle what is being thrown my way. I'm angry at them for letting me venture out into the world a tabula rasa.

Yes, I'm angry at you. I can't even look you in the eye for the fear of being disappointed in your ways. All of you. If you wanted me to become something so bad, why didn't you raise me so that I become it instead of set me free to believe and become what I want to? And after doing that, why are you disappointed with who I've become? You're nonsensical, and it hurts.

I won't apologize for being myself around you. I'm not going to try and fix what has already broken because it can't be repaired. I'm going to make sure I develop myself and set everything straight to be happy like I always have been.

You can stop envisioning my life. I already have it planned. I might not turn into the lady you've always wanted me to be. I might not be able to act like I've spent my life in charm school. I might not marry the "perfect" guy you're looking for. I might not end up anything like you. But will that disappoint you? Will it hurt that I haven't taken your "ideal" version of my life into consideration? It shouldn't. I hope you guys realize that some time soon. Because even if I wanted to, I can't find it in myself to disobey you.

Oh, and since I know that by now, you've all realized who you are, I want you to back off until my life is back on track. And I love you. I don't care how far-fetched it seems right now. I really do love you.

...Drained

2008-04-18T16:59:00.008+03:00

Something different for a change...

On Wednesday, Sulayman AlBassam came to give a talk in our department. For those of you who do not recall him. You should know that I am into him because of this and this. Being a genius with good looks adds to the experience of watching his most recent breathtaking play. So, as soon as I found out that he was coming, I had to make sure H and J were coming. Of course, Aj and Sou became the daily unfortunate victims of my excitement;p

I made the effort of looking good that day. I had a presentation which got canceled and two midterms. As soon as I walk into our department after my first midterm, I hear my friends bubbling with excitement. "He's here!" Where? "In Dr. Ebtehal's office!" Great. I was dared by Sou to go into the office and remind him that I ran after him previously, and so, I did. He was very sweet about remembering me. It was good meeting him formally after that incident;p

Soon, we were sitting in rows facing him. And he spoke. He spoke about plays as performances and not literature. He spoke about the journey from text into performance. He spoke about bringing actors of different backgrounds. He spoke about ideological intolerance and the inability to accept the other. He spoke about their aim to correct misapprehensions. He spoke about being careful not to naively provide a feast for ideological enemies. He spoke about forty days in a Jabriya basement to produce a play that will change many people's point of view of the Arab world.

AlBassam explained the difficulty of an Arab director being approached by the Royal Shakespeare Company to produce an adaptation of Richard III. He proceeded to explain that Richard III is seen as a symbol of evil. The character was an epitome of ugliness, but not in his play. He showed us clips of the phenomenal performace along with pictures which were displayed on stage. One of the pictures he perfectly described as a portrayal of "modernity offset by tradition."

He also spoke about the importance of live music in his plays. He explained that the "presence of live music adds to the pleasure of the spectacle", and I find that true. He gave examples of merged musical traditions. There was a lot he said. It was an inspiration, but I choose to keep part of the experience to myself.

Although Richard III: An Arabian Tragedy plays as a Kuwaiti piece, there was a local disappointment in regards to the nights it was played and the audience. There is a thirst for culture and serious drama. I just got back from The Pirates of Penzance, and I only saw thirteen Kuwaitis (yes, I counted). The opera was great. I leave you with pictures.

Uneverything

2008-04-15T20:27:00.005+03:00

I sat across from him. I placed my hands on the cool surface of the oak table. He seemed to be miles away. I looked up and realized no matter how close he was, he was always miles away. Funny.

I put my hands around the mug with the flowers. The coffee smelled so good, but I didn't take a sip. I didn't enjoy the time we spent together when he was in his pensive mood. I felt neglected and maybe a little jealous.

I waited for him to talk, but he didn't. We just say there for a while, sharing an immensely comforting silence and stealing glances at each other. We both knew that the other was stealing glances, too. What a way to pass time.

I hesitantly ran my finger up the spine of my book. It wasn't my book, really. A friend lent it to me. I smelled it, and he smiled. He always smiled when I smelled a book, and I never asked why. We both knew why without having to tell each other. Silent conversations? I wouldn't know..

I took a sip of the still steaming coffee and opened the book with the tips of my fingers. I started reading. I lost myself until reality snapped its fingers when my coffee finished.

I looked up at him. He was staring at me. I shrugged and walked off to fill my mug again. I didn't sit down when I got back. I took my book and found a spot under the window. I wondered if I should sit or leave. He told me to sit, and I did.

Again, I waited for him to say something... anything at all, but he didn't. I kept on reading, and he filled my mug whenever it emptied itself. He was staring at me the whole time. I wasn't uncomfortable. I wondered why for the first moments, but then I mentally smirked at myself. I reminded myself that I knew him too well. I knew well enough to know that he was staring for the right reason, whatever it was... if there was one, actually.

I tried to imagine what he was seeing while he stared at me. What did he see? Strands of wavy hazel hair pinned back to reveal a face absorbed with concentration. Brows about to knit. A hand holding the book open. Another hand curling its fingers around the mug. Grey shorts sinfully ending ten centimeters before moisturized knees. A brown tank top hinding under a peach tank top both revealing lazy arms. Legs crossed over each other, the toes of one foot playing with the edge of a gigantic vase. No, he saw something else.

I coudn't put my finger on it. What did he see? Did he see himself forty years ago? Did he see something I didn't see in myself? What was it that kept him staring for hours without making me uncomfortable? Why am I afraid to ask? Would it hurt?

I glanced at him and smiled. I realized that I didn't ask because I wasn't ready for the disappointment my question could bring. I closed my book and walked over to him. I kissed his forehead and put my arms around him. I wondered why I loved him so much.

He asked me if I wanted to eat. That was his hint that the rest of the day would be normal.

---

S, Happy Birthday;*

Aj, you know better:)

All Shook Up

2008-04-14T18:58:00.004+03:00

Dear *,

I want it to be tomorrow. I want it to be the day you realize how selfish you are. You know, when that day comes, I will be sure I will have more "times" with you. Hehe, I wonder why we call them "times" ...do you know?

I can remember every moment I spent with you. I can imagine every moment I will spend with you. I cannot entertain the thought that I will be without you one day. Never. I used to be able to, but now, I just cannot. Don't disappoint me.

What I really want is an explanation of why you are being so selfish. I mean, seriously? Do we have to go through the arguments and hurt every time we talk? Do I have to deny that I am crying even with the tears making their way down to my lips? Do I have to blink back how much I love you just so I hurt you enough into doing what you should do?

You keep telling me that I am not as selfish as I think I am, but you know what? You are more selfish than you think you are. How can you not see that this is affecting us all? We go through this together. Fingers crossed, the day will come when you realize that you are not the only person affected by this.

I always think old people are frustratingly nonsensical, but you always make sense to me. That is, you have always made sense to me until now. I do not understand one bit of it.

Please, I want more of the "times" we spend together. I want to carelessly shrug off the cold floor of your library against the flesh of my legs. I want to smell the coffee that I cannot drink and not curse you for drinking it. I want to smile at you knowingly across the table, sharing a moment where we simultaneously found the answer to a mystery that we have questioned millions of times. I want to have silent conversations with you about the cruel ways of the world and how we cannot change them. I want to make sure you understand every moment of silence we have ever had has a screaming significance behind it. I want to be able to tease you when you mix up theories and books and watch you laugh it off like it would stain my image of you. I want to listen to your singing of samris and recital of poetry from the jaheleya just to cheer me up. Please.

Why can't you see that I am not myself with anyone as much as I am myself with you? You are one of the people who make me who I am. Your image in my perspective of life cannot be scarred by anything. You have hurt me before, but this is different. I will not let go of you easily. I can not talk to you for a while, but you know that will not last.

I just want you to know that you are part of my "everything" as you like to call it. Part of me worries, hurts, laughs, pretends, and dies with you. Do this for us if you are not willing to do it for yourself. Do not make me go through this again.

I love you no matter what. I love you beyond words. I love you beyond feelings. I love you more than to just sit and watch.

Your Polyhymnia

(I know you think I forgot, but I did not.)

"Am I?"

2008-04-13T16:19:00.004+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I look in the mirror. It's just a glance. No. It's a stare, now. It's a gaze. A gaze into the depths of myself. The self that I thought I knew so well. Ha! Funny, isn't it? Who would have thought I'd be standing in front of the mirror questioning my image like a psychotic lady? My critical hazel eyes look me over. Dad is right. My hair is the color of my eyes. He's right.

I look through my eyes into the vapor of my air of personality. I don't see it. Wait, yes, I do. It's in my messy carelessly curled hair. It's in my neatly brushed eyebrows. It's in the nonexistent gaps between my teeth. It's in the raise of my left eyebrow. It's in the necklace hanging around my neck. It's in the earrings I sleep in when I'm lazy. It's in that second pierce that my dad doesn't like. It's in the light hair-like scar to the left of my lips. Imperfections?

I close my eyes. I really think I should get to know me better. How did I let an emotional turmoil rock my solid undeniable knowledge of every aspect of who I am? I let it. That's right. I did. It's me who always wants a new experience even if it hurts. I unmerge my top and bottom lashes only to stare back at myself.

I realize that not everything about how I am is in how I look. I smile. I question my happiness. That's it. I'm not happy anymore. I'm not completely content. This is what I'm so depressed about. I cover my right eye with my hand. That's more like it. I'm only happy with half of the image in front of me, or is it what's behind this image? Is it the abstract personality that I can see in every feature of my form. Strange. What has changed?

Pop Art

2008-04-12T11:59:00.005+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Aj linked me to this. Watch.

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When I first started this blog, right after my first post, I promised myself that I would not delete any comments that perhaps might bother me, or posts that might expose me a bit too much after they are posted. It's getting hard. I'm looking back at all the things I've written, and I'm thinking that I really am sentimental. There's nothing wrong with that. I just realized that about myself. I'm overly sensitive and emotional. As soon as I feel something I can write about, I sit, type, and post. I don't think about who might read this and what they might think. I just do it. At times, I think of blocking comments on certain posts, but then, I reconsider because it seems like I'll be taking away your freedom as readers of Poshlust. The reason why I went on a break is that I've been going through a very unpredictable emotional facade. I didn't want to post thoughts that have been altered by emotions. Now, I look back on that, and I think it's silly. This is me. Whether overly sentimental or not, this blog should reflect what I am and what I am going through no matter what. So, this is all there is. Sometimes oppressed feelings come out all wrong. I just hope you guys understand that certain personal things are not easy to post. I admit that at times my lack of anonymity is in the way, but right now, it is mostly the fact that I feel vulnerable. It's new. This is post is a pact from me to myself to remind me that I have promised myself to post regardless of how exposed and fragile the words might make me.

Scary Weather

2008-04-11T15:23:00.002+03:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Bkel sara7a.. Sh`hal maskhara eli sayra?! Awalan, deeratna netfa! Kuwait is tiny. Ma tet7amal hal suwalef eli based on crap. The majority thed qanoon elfar3eyat. Ee, they have the right to stop elfar3eyat. We get where you're coming from. BUT.. Elasaleeb elwaskha eli ga3ed et9eer kelish malha da3i! Sheno ya3ni tedkheloun 3aza w bs 3shan 3aza fi e3yal qebayel you demand proof ena it's a 3aza?! Mn sejkum?! 3AZA?! Mashallah, you went to the right place. 3aini 3alaikum bardah. Okay, khalasna mn el3aza, ma etshofoun shar.. Al7een ma etgolounli, sheno eli yathbet ena ay tajamu3 ma3nata ena ga3ed et9eer far3eyat?! Nezal 3alaikum ethbat mn elsema.. Shetsawoon?! Etyeboun lekum helicopters w qanabel museela leldmoo3 w rubber bullets w et6egoun feha e3yal baladna?! Laish ma etnadoun 9a7eb elduwaneya wela eli emnathem hal tajamu3 w et7aqeqoun ma3ah?! Tara ana mu bdeweya, wala I believe in all the 6a2efeya bullshit. Bel nehaya kelna kwaityeen w hathaila eli entharraw e3yal elkwait! Lama etyoun entaw e3yal eldeera w tahjemoun 3ala ekhwankum la w wain?! B byout`hum w duwaweenhum.. Hatha shesamouna?! You're trespassing on private property.. Ana ma artha unexpected people that I know ydeshoun baitna.. Hal door ba3ad yayeen emdar3emeen et6egoun w et7athfoun qanabel w tarmoun b rubber bullets, w tabounhum yasketoun ba3ad?! 7ilfaw bas?! Tara la7ad ygoul hatha elqanoon 3shan amn eldawla, la.. Ma asadeg`ha 3ugb eli shefta ilyoum.. Sa7ee7 ena the people attacked have previously done government officials wrong, bas ma net3amal weya ba3ath bhal 6areeqa.. Ma adkhal 3ala elawadem b byout`hum w a7athefhum wana ma 3endi daleel 3ala ena ohma emkhalfeen qanoon elfar3eyat.. Shay ma 9ar! Hal qanoon ga3ed yu6abaq with the wrong intentions.. Ta6beeq mu le amn eldawla wala shay.. 3adatan, ma7eb atkalam bhal muwathee3 le2ana elsalfa et6oul w kel wa7ed 3abala ena elthani ga3ed yahjem 3alaih.. Kel wa7ed la raya, bas ana hal mawthoo3 ghaseb batkalam fi le2ana deeratna sgheera. Elkhelafat eli ga3ed et9eer bain bado w 7athar w she3a w sena w ghairhum, hathi et`ther the hope for we7da wa6aneya.. Wetha ekbarat hal khelafat tara 3adi deeratna etrou7 feha. W athen ma7ad fena yabi hal shay.. Wela shraykum?! Mas2alat ena I launch a battle of rubber bullets and helicopters against people mn deerti without proof ena ohma emkhalfeen shay hathi mu dasha 3agli abadan.. 3al 3moom, khal kel wa7ed fena y7e6 deerta gabel ma9ala7a elshakhseya eli malha awal wala tali gabel la y9eer fi deeratna shay.. Athen elmafrooth elkwait gabel ay shay 3nd elkwaityeen..

ஐΡоѕнгцѕт

*Sniff*

"3ayem" -C.

C. Not Burning on the Inside

"Wain elnakhwa?" -C.

"What are you all about?" -C.

"Salamat" -C.

Overwhelming Silence

Counting Sheep

;$

Marx

Outline: Deconstructing Andersen

The Perverted Freud

*SIGH*

Wall & Piece

An Uncomforting Rash

Warmth

Opium

I [HEART] Rex

Aj & The Stage

One Butterfly Wing

Big Bean

I.Need.Sleep.

Stronger Than Me

Holistic

Easier Lifestyle

Aristotle's Poetics

"It's Marc Jacobs."

Teez El-namla

Hmph

Screw Khaldiya!

Eljaw Khayes

No More Karaoke

Public Administration

Anxiety Pills - Pills

B+

What Happens in Vegas

She Said He Said

What sins?

No Breakdowns

Disturbing

Nonsensical Heartache

Pourquoi pas?

Grades, anyone?

Feathers

"I'll be you soon enough!"

Morphology&Syntax?

It's late..

Forty-one!

After what?

My Own Little Hypocrisy

She killed my birds!

Impromptu Life

Zendagi Migzara

Sabre Tooth

Indifferent, really

Laish ma tebtasmain?

The Kite Runner

3atham Allah Ajerkum

90% C.I.

Hiatus?

Hubris

"I'm a good girl, I am!"

Archimedes' Eureka

"Men"

Passion

Shmexi Haircut

I still miss Sou

I miss Sou

Well, sometimes I go out by myself, and I..

Coffee

Ladybug or Ladybird?

Pygmalion

...Drained

Uneverything

All Shook Up

"Am I?"

Pop Art

Scary Weather

Sniff

SIGH