Love In The Swamps

So I was online, and someone said to me “2e7keely 7adoota!”
Instead of saying the usual crap, I started telling/improvising a crappy story!
This is exactly how it went, I only edited the spelling mistakes and some of the punctuation!

(haha… a friend of mine should be proud, he always improvised stories upon request)
So here it goes;

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived a King Frog and a Queen Frog and their little Prince Frogo. They lived in the magical kingdom of swamps where flies and roaches and other common frogs lived.

One day, Prince Frogo went out for a jump. As he was hopping his way through the swamps, he saw a beautiful common frog. Her name was “Frogella”.

He approached her, and shyly said ” *croak* hello *croak*, I am the Prince *croak*“
Frogella flinched, looked at him with confusion, then said “I know Dumbo, you’re the prince, everyone knows that *croak*. What do you want? *croak*“

Hearing that, all the frogs that were present started laughing “Hahahaaaa *croak croak* Hahahaaa.. the dumb prince is hitting on Frogella using a dumbass pick up line!*croak* hahahaaaa”

The prince was embarrassed; the hot girl-frog mocked him in public and made a laughing stock out of him. Thus, he started to think of revenge…

Prince Frogo went home. He hopped into his royal bed of green leaf, and started thinking of an evil way to get back at Frogella.
As he was thinking and pondering and wondering and scheming, his frog assistant walked in and interrupted.
- *croak croak* Prince Frogo, I am sorry to interrupt your deep thinking *croak croak* But there’s someone here for you. *croak*. A mozza frog, she says her name is Frogella *croak*. Should I let her in? *croak croak croak*
- Frogella??? *croak* umm.. well…. *croak*… umm…. okay give me 5 minutes then show her in *croak*
Prince Frogo was clueless, he couldn’t understand why would she come see him! He hopped out of his leaf-bed and sat on his tiny tree-branch desk. He messed things up a bit, held a writing leaflet, dipped it in green ink, and started scribbling the lyrics from the song “Go to hell bit$h” (a song by the famous frog band “Angry Toads”)

Frogella walked in, found Prince Frogo looking all busy. She croaked to get his attention.

Frogo looked up with disinterest “yes? You need something * croak*?”
Frogella: umm… *croak* I came to apologize for earlier today! My boss was feeding me $hit all day and I was really stressed *croak croak*. I’m sorry if I came out as rude or offensive *croak*. I was actually flattered you came to talk to ME! *croak croak croak - Frogella’s face blushes*
Prince Frogo: (all secretly happy but playing hard to get) hmmmm… okay *croak* apology accepted. Need anything else? *croak croak*.
Frogella: *croak* no (with dismay showing all over her green face) I’m leaving now, excuse me your highness. *croak croak croak croak*
Prince Frogo: Frogella…. wait!! *croak croak croak*. I wanted to talk to you, I tried earlier but…. *croak*… well…. *croak*… I guess what I wanted to say was that… *croak*…. Frogella…. *croak croak*…. umm…. you’re a beautiful frog. Are you free tonight? *croak* say…. Sevenish?? I can come pick you up in my motor leaf. *croak* what do you say?

Frogella: (all flushed and angry) Who the hell do you think you are huh? *croak* you think just cause you’re the prince I’d go out with YOU?? *croak croak* what the hell gave YOU that idea? *croak croak* YOOOU man frogs are all the same. Sorry prince, *croak* NOT interested! *croak croak croak* the nerve you have to just ask me out…. ha, *croak*

(and she stormed out mumbling similar stuff!)

Shocked and dumbstruck, Prince Frogo just stood there unable to react!

He took his time, then hopped over to his green iPod, and sang along with the Angry Toads “go to hell, go to hell, go to hell crazy bit$h, craaaaazyyyyy bit$h go to hellllll”

- The End -

Matters of the Mind

Sometimes I lose track of what I really want…
I confuse it with what I should have, what I want to have, what logic says I should give up and what I simply need.

You cannot get all that you need… let alone all that you want…
Some things… you just have to understand that they’re out of reach and you have to learn how to do without them… which should be easy considering that you never had them to begin with - you only had the insignificant hope of having them!

That whole fuss about how the mind says one thing and the heart another… I’m not sure it’s valid!
What is the heart and what is the mind anyway?

My mind tells me what I should have and what I need, but it also tells me what I want and can’t have…
My mind translates my feelings (which allegedly come from the heart) and makes me react accordingly…
My mind makes me feel certain things by simply thinking them first…
I feel how I feel by the power of my brain!
My mind does not just THINK, it FEELS. It feels very strongly that it makes me think, and vice versa.

My heart? It reacts to what my brain feels… and it takes it to another level sometimes!
If I decide to give my head a rest, my untamed heart might get all spontaneous on me and act without consulting my brain first!
My heart is my feelings left loose and unattended… unsupervised.

So in most cases, it’s not just my heart that troubles me, it’s both of them!

Maybe we just simplify emotions when talking about them by merely referring them to “heart”. We call them “matters of the heart”. I do that too.

Maybe it’s cause when you’re emotionally distressed or pressured or even “heart-broken” your heart might literally ache and suffocate and you find it hard to breathe! Maybe…

But for me, it’s never just “heartache”; it’s coupled with a terrible headache and my head would feel like it would blow up!

I’m sure it’s not just me that feels that way, but most people would still ONLY refer to their hearts - they tend to neglect the fact that their heads feel it too! Yes I think it is a neglected fact.

I could be laying still feeling that my head is screaming so goddamn loudly yet so annoyingly silent…. So provocatively loud that if I didn’t have enough sense left I’d bang it on the wall till it breaks open and releases all the screams of anger and distress and unleashed tears.

Just imagining it makes me feel dizzy.

And that’s how I usually fall asleep when I’m in that state; heartached, headached, and dizzy!

I use the combination of unexplainable pain and wooziness as a meter to determine how bad things are…

If I’m just in pain but I’m not woozy, then I assure myself that I’m okay…
If I’m just woozy but not in pain and not exactly numbed either then I assume it’s just the lack of food or sleep.
If I’m too woozy to think straight and my head is ringing with silent screams and my heart beats are too slow or too fast and my lungs are confused and pressured, I take it as a definite sign that something’s wrong. I go to Sleep!

I don’t want to fall asleep like that now!
Truth is I’m not!
Then stop fretting about it!
I don’t mean to I just got carried away!
You always get carried away…
I want to have peaceful sleep…
You have that!
Not quite!
What’s missing?
…

I like wordpress :D

I like that new avatar thing for those who comment on the blog I get to choose which type of avatars should be displayed and then they’re automatically generated based on their e-mail addresses!

For some time it was “Identicon” which is sort of like random geometrical shapes. I liked that but some of the colors seemed to contradict with how I perceive the fellow bloggers; for example I didn’t see pale yellow working out nicely for Hurricane X! And I don’t remember who had an ugly greenish avatar, I don’t know it just upset me!

Today I changed it into “MonsterID” They’re cool! I checked almost all the avatars of those who commented before and I think SOME of them kinda go with who they are ehem… of course if they were not “monsters”!

I might change it later, but for now I think it’s fun!

I gotta say I miss their original avatars, the ones they chose for themselves - blogspot bloggers - I really do, they say more about who they are, but since I don’t have that option here, I’m happy with the current replacement (the mail-generated avatar thingy)

yaay!
It only takes that much to make me happy

My Precious Illusions

WARNING: Long post with possible wacko content. Read at your own risk!

Each person escapes his own way…

Some choose distraction and loud noises, some choose working out and relieving stress, some choose to live in denial, some choose to sleep…

Although living in denial and sleeping work fine for me, they work side by side with the basic method of escapism I usually resort to – even unconsciously…

My escapism helps me deal with the things I run away from… helps me get the bigger picture and find my way through whatever is deeply troubling me. But then sometimes I wonder; what I do… my “technique”… is there nothing wrong with it? Could I lose control over it one day and cross the line to delusion and insanity??

Did I ever explain before how I’m never totally alone? I could get lonely sometimes, very few times, but I’m never really alone…

This is how it works, it’s usually very hard to explain but I’ll try my best:

I am never totally alone! *(feels like I said that before just now, deja vu?)*

I could be driving with nobody else in the car, or I could be sitting in my room with no actual physical company, or watching TV all by myself, or even using my computer, cooking, talking on the phone with a friend, combing my hair, relaxing while listening to music, out in the balcony, preparing to sleep, secretly crying over something that was repressed for some time, running errands and getting things done, cleaning up… but I’m never alone. There’s always somebody around… rather the illusion of somebody. Not necessarily one person or just the same person, not necessarily someone I made up, mostly people I already know and who do exist in real life, mostly people I like or would like to have for company… they’re just there… around me… all the time!

*(I DID say it!! Duuuh Eva! When will I ever stop repeating myself)*

So for example, if I’m driving all by myself, one of my friends – whichever one I feel like summoning at the moment – will be riding with me in the passenger seat. I’d play the songs I know we like to listen to together, I might share comments with him/her, I might start talking about my day or what’s been bothering me lately, and for I know what my friends would say in real life had they been really there instead, I almost hear their words, and I reply to them. We can have a long conversation that begins the moment I start the car and ends while I’m parking. But no… my friends don’t necessarily leave right after I park; they come with me… wherever I’m going.

Of course I don’t openly talk to my secret “imaginary” companions when I’m with real people, that would just sound nuts, I mean come on, why would I talk to imaginary people when there are real people to talk to? But then they serve as a silent observer, or I could hear their comments sometimes, but that would be it. At first, when I noticed their almost permanent existence, I didn’t get it. I kept asking myself “why are they there even when I’m with real company, why are they watching over me?” Not that it ever made me feel paranoid or uncomfortable, but it just makes me worry about my mental health!

It’s like I live in a movie, I’m the main character, and my life is the main plot, with lots of other equally important side plots that have major effects on my life. Thus, when my imaginary people are silently there, they serve as the spectators who may have some comments or guidance to the seemingly oblivious main character (moi).

As insane as all of this might seem, it comes in very handy most of the time, and I’m not talking about the times when I’m simply bored!

So let’s say I have this little problem I need to work out, and let’s say the people whom I’d rather talk to about this problem are temporarily unavailable or for the time being I’d rather not interrupt their lives, I then go to my always available friends – who could be incarnations of those I really wanted to talk to – and I spill it out. I work logic and sense with them, and I usually reach good conclusions.

Or let’s say I’m crying, and I hate crying in front of others no matter how close, well… knowing that my precious illusions are only figments of my own imagination, and knowing that crying in front of them is basically crying alone, I feel comfortable crying to them and have them comfort me.

Imagine I’m sick and laying in bed waiting for help that doesn’t usually come, or some pathetic sympathy to show that someone actually cares, as deeply pathetic as it this may seem, my precious precious imaginary people would serve for that very purpose!

Let’s say I’m home alone and I’m bored to death, I would make up stories and situations with tiny details and act them up with my friends… living them.

And the outcome? Mostly positive…

I face new experiences with the feeling that someone is right there behind me or at my side encouraging me and promising me that I won’t screw up cause I’m not alone, and that if I do, we’ll make fun of it and laugh at it together. I go to sleep at night with the idea that someone is watching over me and making sure I’m sound and happy before I close my eyes and start dreaming.

Of course they also boost my confidence when I need it, and remind me to be modest when I seem to have forgotten. They act as my mirror and my guide.

I sometimes ask myself “but why do I need them? I have real people who can do all of these things when I really need them to!” I finally came up with the conclusion that I don’t need them, but I like having them, I can always count on them and they will never disappoint me unless I want them to or I let them (for some sick reason or another - yeah I can make them do that).

I don’t need them, but I’m addicted to them. I can no longer control their existence. I can – of course – distinguish them from real people, and I know that at the end of the day, they’re only imaginary, and I do not talk to them openly in public, and because I am totally aware of how insane all of it may seem to anybody, I don’t just tell everybody about these details. However, I can no longer control the fact that they’re always there!

None of this bothers me, like I said I’m addicted and I don’t want them to leave. It’s just that sometimes it makes me doubt my mental health. But I think ‘mental health’ is overrated. If I can tell what’s real and what’s not, and if I can go about my daily life looking and sounding sane most of the time, and if I can use logic and manipulate it whenever I need to, if I can keep my credibility… then what does it matter if I have so called imaginary friends who are duplicates of my real friends? Extra is always good… right? Besides, all of this helps me deal with “life”…

… this is my method of escapism!

Memory Flash

I just remembered something: when I was really young (yet old enough to remember) I sometimes used to eat flowers! They were those red ones… they looked a little like tulips. My mother would take me and my older sister to Dad’s workplace and I’d find them there somewhere and I’d eat the petals!!

hmm…

Enough with flowers ba2a!

(same title as last post)

Bafakar ageeb tayara, banzeen el tayarat msh beyeghla…

I’ll buy a black one, in solidarity with any protesting movement that speaks up…
And if nothing changes, I’ll change it’s color, I’ll paint it red…

And then….
I’ll take it, fly it over Egypt, kill off 90% of the population with missiles and bombs to put them out of their misery. It’ll be mercy killing! Their ghosts with thank me later I know that for a fact!

And then…
Hmm… I don’t what I’ll do afterwards. Maybe I’ll go completely nuts and fly off to other continents and shoot people there too! Then maybe I’ll trip over a cloud, fall, and die!

We’ll see about that!
For now, I gotta start saving up for my own plane!

(place inappropriate swear word(s) here)

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck…

FUCK!!!

too      many      words     too     many       comments      thoughts      crammed        tongue       slurred       shut up shut up shut up shut up

shshsh….

Des Fleurs

Content of this post may look like it contradicts with a previous post, however, in my head, it doesn’t!

I don’t hate flowers; I’m just not so fascinated by them!
I don’t like clichéd pictures of flowers and bouquets; I like natural ones that are not so overly consumed.
I don’t think flowers are that freakin romantic, if you love me and you want to get me something, go for chocolate! Same thing applies if I fall sick, no flowers, just chocolate, lots of it. Besides, if I’m sick I won’t be needing another thing to breathe MY oxygen at night.

I don’t hate flowers, I don’t, I actually love how they look in nature, all colorful and natural and beautiful and divine. I’m just not fond of bouquets, no matter how beautiful they could be!

My theory concerning that goes something like this: flowers are beautiful where they are, why kill them, get them out of context, place them in an unfamiliar surrounding with other flowers (whom they could not be friends with, you never know), and then give them to someone as a gift? You want to bring them flowers? Give them a rose garden or a plant with roots and everything, not a wilting bouquet!
Besides, what message does that give huh? (Still working on my theory) Flowers wilt. You bring your loved one flowers, a lovely bouquet of flowers to express your deep affection or budding relationship or simply as a romantic gesture, but did you ever stop to think about what it could mean on a symbolic level? These flowers are actually dieing, in a matter of hours they droop and wilt, and in 2 days they’re all dried up! Is that how you see your current relationship? Is that where you see it going?
(dark grim Eva)
I realize of course that no one sees it that way, and maybe no one should! Probably I’m just thinking too much into it twisting logic to go with my ways. It’s just that I’m not big on flowers!

Anyhoo, if someone brings me flowers I won’t be all angry and ungrateful; I’d certainly appreciate the gesture, but it would say something about how good this person knows me.

Seriously, if taken in an abstract view, why would I be thrilled that a bunch of flowers are taken away from where they belong to die just to make me smile?

Humff… yeah flowers are cool, sometimes even inspiring, but to cut it short and save myself and others all the boring explanation and rambling, when any random person asks me if I like flowers, I just say “nope, hate’em!”

This can’t be good!

*deep breath*
*thinking to self: I will not blog about today*

I noticed something…
Recently I’m not as cautious as I usually am when I start talking to myself out loud! And when I say “talking to myself” that includes talking to other people in my head as well! Lately I let the words slip without making sure enough that I’m alone. Today it was my little nephew who heard me talk out loud to non-existent people, last week it almost happened with a colleague at work, and about a month ago it happened with my friend’s brother in law! that was so random and funny though

I was waiting for my friend in the car right outside her building, she was late and I was alone. I was so caught up thinking and I started talking to imaginary people in the car in an attempt to break my thoughts into pieces to analyze them and come up with a reasonable conclusion. I got so carried away I didn’t see her brother in law approaching; I was startled when I found him right beside my window saying “ezzayek ya (my name), mestaneyya (my friend’s name)?” I felt my face flush and I said the first things that came to mind so freakin fast “yeaaaah…. ana mestaneyya hena ba2aly nos sa3a lama tenzel hatetshetem. 3ala fekra fe 2otta lessa dakhla delwa2ty law tale3 2olaha 3ashan matetkhadesh enta 3aref heya betetre3eb. salemly 3ala (his wife’s name/my friend’s sister).”

I don’t know if he heard me talking to myself and decided to ignore it or if he really didn’t notice, but it definitely embarrassed me! Man I gotta start being careful again! This can’t be good!

I mean my nephew is fine, I don’t mind HIM watching me talk to imaginary people, he probably has his own imaginary friends, but strangers Eva… this can’t be good. Gotta be more careful.

Note to self: Be More Careful! Not everyone you know has to know about your “friends”, give them more privacy, they deserve it. You don’t see them exposing you now do you?… e7em… I started losing sense here.

rabena yostor, my mental health is one of my best assets, if I lose that I lose A LOT!

Jasmines

Driving downtown – if you can call moving 5km/h and stopping every 2 minutes in traffic actual driving, I personally call it “ankle exercise” – and as usual AC is on and windows are closed, the way it always is when it’s not winter. I can’t stand the heat and I can’t stand the noise so closed windows suit me perfectly. I think driving spoiled me! Before I was allowed to take the car I used to tolerate all of it cause I didn’t have any choice. I’d take the subway and sometimes microbuses and taxis of course to get to wherever I should and not a single word of complaint would come out of me. Of course I’d be dead by the time I reach wherever I’m headed, the heat and the noise do get to me!

So I was driving downtown, my music playing and I’m singing along, pretending that I’m not stuck in traffic and that I’m not running late. I see a little boy with Jasmine necklaces approaching the car in front of mine. I see him walking away. I look at him and wait for him to look at me, hoping that he’d see me. He does. I give him a meaningful look; he comes closer. I open my window, give him change and take my Jasmine necklace. Not a word is exchanged. I smile and close my window. I smell the flowers, they stink. I throw them above the pile of wilted flowers that are already there on top of the car dashboard.

Lately, and although I’m never that fond of flowers, in fact I’m accused of hating them, I buy a Jasmine necklace whenever I see anyone selling them on the street. They wilt and they die, but if I’m to look at the bright side they leave a “jasminish” smell in the car which isn’t all that bad. I mean the flowers themselves that I buy from the little boy or the woman or the sometimes annoying man don’t smell so good, but they leave a certain nice fragrance in the air. I don’t understand though why they stink of fakeness and humidity and dirt.

So as I said, lately, I just buy those wherever I spot them while driving. I’m not sure why. I never wear them; I never hang them on the mirror like the little boy would insist by pushing his arm in sometimes to hang them himself, and I’m not even big on flowers in general. I remember though how it started.

About 3 weeks ago I was driving in downtown. I wasn’t very happy; in fact I was almost miserable.. Thoughts of giving up hope on things that mean a lot to me were starting to spread in my head. Despair was building up and I was just plain unhappy. A song played, that Kamilya Jubran song called “el ba7r”. And as I started to slowly sing along my voice betrayed me by the end of the first verse, it chocked up and my eyes welled up. The part I couldn’t sing went

“وأحبك ياللى أحلامى فى هواكى زهزهوا وغنوا
يا بلدى ياللى وأنا فيكى عيونى ليكى بيحنوا”

I got angry! I can’t explain it but I was angry! Then I saw that woman selling Jasmine necklaces. She looked so pretty and she had what has to be one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen. Her complexion a bit dark and her eyes wide and hazel; she was smiling yet tiresome and she was walking from car to car offering her goods of Jasmine necklaces. Our eyes met and I couldn’t help smiling. I smiled though I was feeling terrible and my eyes were filled with tears that won’t come down cause I wouldn’t allow them to. But she made me smile, and I bought Jasmines.

When I held them close to my nose they smelled nothing like I expected them too - based on memories of my uncle bringing us some when we rode with him when we were little. The exact opposite; they smelled like dirt. I could smell traces of Jasmine though. That whole jasmines-smelling-like-dirt thing made me smile as well, sarcastically. I couldn’t help but do the analogy in my head. What analogy? I don’t want to be too philosophical, so I won’t start. Let’s just say that the Jasmines were pretty in their own way, even though they smelled like filth and their original smell was almost gone.

I placed them on the dashboard and left them there.

The next day, I don’t remember where I was but a cute little boy was wandering around selling a bunch of those. I waited for him to see me, smiled, and bought another couple of necklaces. I wasn’t as unhappy as the day before, but they still lifted up my spirits a bit.

From that day, I buy those Jasmines whenever there’s a chance. I smile to whoever gives them to me. I smell them, I decide they stink, I try to find traces of their original smell, I do, I throw them carelessly on the dashboard… and I smile.