tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2945338115153563882024-03-21T01:26:36.944+02:00IrregularitiesIrregular thoughts and opinionsMohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.comBlogger365125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-69144699703881987272013-02-04T17:33:00.003+02:002013-02-04T17:33:56.190+02:00Animated Beauty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You know you need to get a life if this animation short made you cry.</div>
Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-83483251374146878552013-02-01T18:02:00.000+02:002013-02-01T18:02:12.708+02:00Dream<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was dark. I was hanging out with a friend of mine. We were standing next to my car. There was another car next to us. The driver was drinking juice. When he finished he threw the juice box in the street. My friend picked it up and threw it back at him. The look on the guy's face was a mixture of surprise and fear.<br />
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I was wishing to myself it was me who have done that.</div>
Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-35266125714335960322013-01-28T22:08:00.001+02:002013-01-28T22:08:51.356+02:00Memories of Perfect days: Day Four<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I woke up really happy. It was the last day, but I was really happy.<br />
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She wanted to organize her room. I helped her do that. And I thought my room is messy! Clothes everywhere! I helped her put some clothes on hangers and others in bags. It was fun. She was in a hurry, so she changed while I was looking the other way and closing my eyes. That was fun too. I only wish I was not that honest!<br />
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She had some errands to run in the city and I had a bus to catch. Luckily both of us had enough time for breakfast. Biscuit in gravy and bayou goo was what we had. She was so pretty that morning. I was confident, and it felt so fuckin' great to be confident. I took the most valuable photos of my trip when we were in that restaurant. Unfortunately I promised her not to share them.<br />
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She drove me to the bus station. She has never heard of Megabus before and wasn't sure it existed until we reached the station. Tickets can only be bought by credit card, so she used her card to pay for my ticket.<br />
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Now it was time to say goodbye. We hugged for almost 3 minutes. It was the warmest hug I have ever had. There were tears in her eyes. Till this moment I still cannot believe it. Why would she have tears in her eyes while saying goodbye to me? What went right this time?<br />
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And that was the last I've seen of her. I don't know if I will ever see her again, although it would take a word consisting for 4 letters for me to buy another ticket and go back. I never had a stronger impulse to kiss a girl like I had with her, but we didn't kiss. I don't know if I should be happy or sad for my short stay. A few more days and I would've been head over heels in love. My goal in life would have been to win heart. I would finally have had a purpose. But the question is: would she?<br />
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She has changed so much in me by being herself. I was on the verge for a long time, till she came along and tipped me over. I am still the sad bundle I have ever been, but the difference is that I am more open to change. I realized that there is one thing capable of killing all my anxieties, and that thing is human contact with a kind heart. Cuddling would solve all my problems and complications. Feeling good is the magic potion.<br />
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I have lost religious prejudices that have always crippled me mentally and physically, thanks to her. I had a glimpse of what it would mean to accept and embrace no matter what the past was like. The most atrocious things she would've told me about herself wouldn't have driven me away. Accept and embrace is what I've done if she would accept and embrace me in return. For that I will be indebted to her forever.</div>
Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-49458359703141411832013-01-27T23:32:00.000+02:002013-01-27T23:55:55.511+02:00Memories of Perfect days: Day Three<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Going back to this day, I realize that it was one the best days in my life. It had its lonely moments, and its what-should-I-do moments, but it will live forever in my memories. The funny thing is: I did not take a single shot that day except for 5 lonely photos at the rocket park by a very bad mobile camera. I do not have any material proof that this day actually happened except for those photos, and I am not in any of them!<br />
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It was a Sunday. I woke up after a long and comfy sleep. I took a shower, checked my email and was ready to go. She asked whether we can wait till she watches the church service on TV. I asked why don't you go to church? She said she's not sure if I wanted to go. I want to go, I said. Let's go!<br />
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We're a bit late, but not that late. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lakewood_Church">church</a>, she said, is the biggest in the United States. Have you ever heard of it? No, I didn't. We had enough time to stop for coffee. She cannot function in the morning without coffee. The weather was warm, nonetheless it was raining all day.<br />
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The church was an interesting experience in every sense of the word. The huge venue (16,800 seats) was almost full. The 'stage' would make any music band in the country jealous. Screens everywhere, volunteers collecting donations, and the cherry on top was a rotating globe on the stage behind the speakers.<br />
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Joel and his wife Victoria were the main speakers, among others. The speeches, or sermons, were very motivational. Joel talked a lot about being positive, having positive thoughts and the importance of having <a href="http://ww2.joelosteen.com/Partner/thoughtson/Pages/MemorialStones.aspx">memorial stones</a>. I felt really motivated myself. I sure as hell need to go to a congregation like this right now. Jesus was almost missing, though. He was a guest of honor at best. Much more motivation, much less religion. That's how they do it Lakewood style.<br />
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I was pretty overwhelmed during the service, but the speeches were not my only attention grabber. I was also watching the expressions on her face. I would do whatever now to know what she prayed for. In my heart I felt so grateful that she shared these moments of blissful belief with me. One more thing I will never forget.<br />
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After that we headed towards the Space Center, stopping for lunch at whataburger along the way. We were talking about friends and friendships. I was going to sit in front of her, but she pulled me beside her. She was telling me about a friend, or rather an acquaintance, of hers who talked about her behind her back and she accidentally knew about it. She was surprised, she said. Why would people do that? I told her a story I think I have never told anyone before. A story that might have been the last story of my life, and that involved a friend who I did not talk to for 3 years because of what happened. I was surprised that I was telling her that particular story. I realized that I would tell her any story and any thought that would cross my mind, she who was a stranger only 2 days before. I have never felt that close to anyone in my life, and I was not even thinking about how long it is going to last. For once I was enjoying the moment of closeness, physically and mentally.<br />
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She drove to the Space Center. The plan was that she was going to accompany me. She changed her mind at the ticket booth (and an expensive ticket it was). She said she'll wait for me in the car. For almost 10 minutes I tried to convince her to come along. I tried everything I can think of. I insisted on paying for our tickets, told her how boring the tour will be without her, how having her would mean much to me. When I was about to give up I said I do not need to go if she doesn't want to, that I'd rather we move and go somewhere rather than having her wait in the car for such a long time. She wouldn't hear of it. She needs to do some phone calls and probably take a fast nap while waiting for me. Science bores her anyway, plus she's been here before. In the end I gave in. I wanted to see what there is to see. Still, that was another moment I will never forget.<br />
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I paid and got in. I realized 15 minutes later that I don't have my camera. Fuck my camera, I said. If I don't have it I don't have it. I was lost for a little while, until I stumbled upon the place where the tour starts. I did that, and it took around 2 hours. It was a tour of the real thing. I didn't enjoy it that much though. I kept thinking about her who should've been with me now, rather than waiting for me outside.<br />
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After the tour I strolled in the museum. Pretty poor and unconvincing. That was it for me. I will not do any of the rides and I don't care about the show. 3 hours at the space center were not enough, but 3 hours of waiting in a car in the rain was too much.<br />
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I didn't know what to say when I went out. I was grateful. She was lost in thought. I wish I was able to read her thoughts at that time. I want to know what you were thinking of. I still do.<br />
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It was almost dark. We headed towards a movie theater to watch The Hobbit. On the way she said I can make it up to her (was it for waiting, or something else?) by massaging her neck while she drives. Or was that on the way to the Space Center? I don't think it matters much anyway. I would fly back just to do that again. We stopped in the way to have some coffee. She was starting to smile more and think less. She was returning to be with me.<br />
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We went to the movie theater. A huge one it was. I dunno how many screens. Almost every movie was starting every hour or so. We got the tickets and hurried to the theater. The show was about to begin.<br />
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I never thought the duration of the movie would be one of the happiest and most relaxed I would ever have. As soon as we seated ourselves (no seat numbers) she removed the arm rest that separated us and leaned against me. That's how we stayed for the rest of the movie: sitting really close, hand in hand, and arm in arm. I was in another world. Being so close to her simply killed any bad thoughts in a hundred mile radius. I can remember the movie distinctly now because my mind was so clear and blissful that the whole world was narrowed down to me, her and the movie. I would've done anything to make this moment last forever.<br />
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After that we went home. She said goodnight in a hurry and left me to sleep. Nothing happened. I don't know if I should've asked for more. I did not want anything more. I wouldn't have been able to grasp asking for more back then. I wouldn't have ruined that moment for mountains of gold. I was happy. I can just hope she was happy too.</div>
Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-62763096208383048602013-01-24T22:27:00.002+02:002013-01-24T22:39:43.289+02:00Memories of Perfect days: Day Two<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I woke up quite early in the morning. The couch was not that comfortable. It kind of swallows you in. I slept well though. I found out I can sleep almost anywhere.<br />
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I took a shower and I was ready. She didn't have to go to work till 2 pm that day, so she planned to take me to the Museum of Natural History. Before we move I had my first experience of watching her "putting her face on", i.e. putting makeup. She would do that in her car even if she has time. On the way we passed by McDonald's where we got coffee and a Mexican breakfast, probably a tortilla. She drove me to a place where I was able to buy a phone and a sim card. She even bargained for me. I had the feeling she doesn't trust so easily when it comes to buying and selling. It was like that with the new bus service too, but I will talk about that later.<br />
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We drove to the museum district. We sat on a bench in the garden for a while. It was the first real conversation we have. I told her about Egypt and life there, and how different it is from anything she knows. After that we walked to the museum. They had a couple of temporary exhibitions that looked very interesting but were quite costly. She is not that interested in museums, she said. She is not a museum person. Plus we were running out of time. It was already midday and she has to be at work in 2 hours. We just chatted a bit more and took some pictures and then she left for work. These pictures are some of the most valuable I ever had.<br />
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The museum was interesting but huge. Five hours were not enough to cover all of it, with the Inca end of the world and the Jewels of the Medici temporary exhibitions on top of the permanent exhibitions.<br />
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We were supposed to meet for lunch at her lunch break. Her phone battery died, so it took longer than expected to meet. I was supposed to meet her at the Museum of Arts, but I spent way too much time in the museum to be able to go to another. When she finally found me and picked me up she tried to be angry, but it was hard for her. That's just the way she is: a smiling creature. She just dropped me at a bus station and headed back to work. I took the bus to the Galleria, the biggest mall in the city. I needed to do some shopping for winter clothes. I walked around the mall for hours and hours. Watching people is a hobby of mine, and the mall was a perfect place to do it. I walked till my feet hurt. I bought a couple of items. After that I waited for her at Starbucks right across the street from the mall. She finally came. She went in and didn't see me, so I had the impulse to surprise her. And that I did!<br />
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We were planning to drive to a bar or to get something to eat, but then decided not to. While driving she asked me out of the blue if I ever had my heart broken. I don't know why, but I laughed for 3 full minutes. I was thinking to myself, I'm not sure I even have a heart to be broken. I was glad she is asking intimate questions and I was glad to talk. I don't think she believed most of what I said though. After all, who would believe a 28 year old guy when he says he has no experience whatsoever?<br />
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Back home I used the internet for a while and then we sat and watched TV, with one of her nephews dead asleep on the other couch. I was on one end of the couch and she was on the other. It was so awkward that she had to go pick up the little dog and hug and kiss it all over. She was telling me how intimate a person she is. How she scared off one of her cousin's female friends because she gets too close when the other was talking or while they were watching something. That's just the way she is, she said. She is intimate. She needs to touch the persons she's with. I realize I should've gotten close to her, but I didn't think of it at the time. She also talked about something really intimate related to an ad that was aired. She was surprised that I knew what she was talking about. I was thinking I know too much and experienced too little.<br />
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Now I'm like her. I need the human touch to feel I'm really with the person I'm with. I need to cuddle and be intimate to feel happy. That is her first and biggest effect on me.</div>
Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-73216659353619879482013-01-21T21:15:00.000+02:002013-01-21T21:15:42.757+02:00Memories of Perfect days: Day One<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I arrived in a city I know no one in, in a country I am visiting for the first time. Everybody I know warned me about being "randomly picked" for a special treatment at the airport that might take a couple of hours. Didn't happen. Still, I was nervous. I had no phone and no internet device. As soon as I got out I tried to call my CouchSurfing host from a public phone but I didn't have any quarters. I bought some gum and got some quarters and placed the call, but no answer. I left her a message on the voice mail, probably my first ever voicemail message. What do I do now? I asked her to come 2 hours late, and here I am outside the airport 30 minutes or so after my plane landed. I waited for a little while, then tried to call her again. She answered! I'm finally relieved! She's on her way. Traffic is bad. Alright. I'll be here.<div>
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I haven't seen any pictures of her. From her name I was almost sure she's Hispanic. Apparently not. She's white as white can be. Colored eyes too. Green? Probably dark green. She was sorry, she said. Traffic was bad. It's alright. What matters is that you're here. I am glad that after 24 hours of airports and planes I am with someone I know. I threw my bags in her Honda. Her truck was quite messy. As I was soon going to find out, a big part of her life is in that car. I was awkward, as usual. My ears were not functioning that well because of the plane pressure, and consequently my voice was low, even more than usual.</div>
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We're going to meet some of her friends, she said. We can stop by at a friend's house close by if I need to take a shower. I'm ok, I said. I'm dead tired, but I don't care. I am here now, and I'm going to enjoy it.</div>
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Everything is new to me. The roads, the traffic lights hanging on wires, the empty streets. We stopped at CVS. What is that? A pharmacy? No, a big ass supermarket/ pharmacy. One of the most widespread chains in the country. We can't park here, can we? No, we have to find another spot. I need to get some stuff though. I was lost inside. I asked for help, but what I'm looking for was not there, or at least I couldn't find it.</div>
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We parked. The restaurant we're going to is Mexican. That's great! I will finally try Mexican food! Her friends arrived one by one, but it took a while to find a table. Apparently you cannot make a reservation in this restaurant, you have to show up and wait. I tried to chat with her and her friends, but I was still disoriented. I didn't know what to say, so I hardly said anything.</div>
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The gathering was a gift exchange thing, a secret Santa. Her friends, 3 girls and a guy, were not a homogeneous punch. They don't see each other often, she told me later. I can see why, I told myself. They went into exchanging gifts, and I was in for a surprise. When it was her turn, she handed over her gift to her secret Santa. Wait, she said. I have another. She got ME a gift! So I don't feel left out, she said. A Houston T-shirt and a blanket was what she got me. I couldn't believe it. How can she be so kind to a perfect stranger? Isn't it enough that she is letting me stay at her place? And that was not the last of my happy moments in this city.</div>
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The meeting was over. We said goodbye to her friends and headed home. We were planning to go to a movie, but it was a bit late and both of us were tired. Her place is in a suburb, probably half an hour away from the city center. We carried the gifts (I was still processing that I actually had gifts to carry!) and were about the enter her place, when she realized she cannot find her purse. False alarm. She found it, but only after she called her friend and panicked a little about leaving it behind at the restaurant.</div>
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She lives in a single story house. One of many I stayed in later on. Turns out she lives with her cousin, a single mom with 3 kids. Her room is close to the door. A room it is, but with only 2 walls and no door. A makeshift of a room. Only a couple of couches. No bed. Where does she sleep? On the couch, apparently. Both couches were covered with clothes. Neatness is certainly not one of her virtues, but who needs neatness anyway? Warmness of heart can replace anything!</div>
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She said she'll let me have the room and she'll sleep on the living room couch or in another room. I can sleep on the floor, I said. I have my sleeping bag and I really don't mind. I'd hate to feel I'm kicking you out of your room. Please stay in your room. She would've stayed, she said, but for the kids. She doesn't want them to see that their aunt is sleeping in the same room with a man. Alright, then. I cannot argue with that.</div>
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Her kindness was overwhelming. I am her first guest, and she's making me feel I am her bestfriend or even a brother. I was too tired to think of what it all means. I also didn't know that the kindness and warmness she showed is nothing compared to what I will experience the next couple of days...</div>
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Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-12707533230885592522012-08-14T22:41:00.000+02:002012-08-14T22:41:03.612+02:00A strange phase<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am lost for words. The only reason I want to write is to change that. That will be no easy task, since I have nothing to write about.<br />
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Well, let's try loneliness. I have been feeling lonely for a while. For the first time in my life I am consciously dissatisfied with my cold bed. I caught myself many times, awake and asleep, longing for another existence to wake up beside. There are no explicit sexual intentions, just the longing for a human touch. To think that I am in my late twenties and have never experienced that is disturbing.<br />
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Now let's talk about religion. I don't think my religious feelings have ever been weaker. I am praying out of habit, nothing more. I am fasting because I am used to. Whatever restrictions or ethics I have now are purely personal. Going to Mecca had an opposite effect to what everybody was talking about. I enjoyed the place, but the people meant nothing to me. There was nothing spiritual about Mecca. There is nothing spiritual about Islam to me now. To be a Muslim to me is to repress my human nature. Unfortunately that is exactly what I do, and I can't help it.<br />
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Now Hollywood. I have been watching a lot of movies. The American movies I watch are becoming more and more a minority. I am tired of the repetitions. I am tired of the readymade plots. I am also tired of those who think movies come out only from Hollywood. I have ventured into movies from other cultures and I can testify to the fact that there are wonderful movies that came out of Hollywood. Each culture/language has its own taste and feel, and within each there are countless themes. I pity those who cannot think out of the Hollywood box.<br />
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Now let's tackle friendship. I am definitely in dire need for good friends. I miss having people I can call whenever I want company. In Qatar that does not happen. Everybody is busy. So many are married. Nothing to do. But for the CouchSurfers I host I would've been much worse. The CS community here is just stagnant. Six months were enough to make friends I don't meet and acquaintances I do not want to meet.<br />
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Well, that's the last couple of months of my life in a couple of paragraphs. I am lost in words, in dire need for friends and need to get my act together. I have never been a happy person, but I should. I was never satisfied, but I should try. The only thing that feels right in my life is work. At least I am positive about this. I love my work and being at work. I hope this at least would last.</div>
Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-15986879629150059892012-08-01T23:15:00.001+02:002012-08-01T23:15:19.211+02:00Waltz with Bashir? A film that has nothing to do with Bashir...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This was the first Israeli film I watch, and I was not disappointed. If there are more people in Israel like director Ari Folman, the face of the Middle East wouldn't have been as ugly as it is now.<br />
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One of the beautiful things about this film is that you can take it on so many levels. The level that affected me most in my first view was the soldier level. The 19-year-old who was thrown out in a tank and given a machine gun and told to go kill the "terrorists".<br />
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What is war? It comes down to soldiers firing bombs/bullets/rockets. Those who fire are often the least informed about the struggle. They know nothing about their missions or about those they are expected to kill, and they are thrown into it all by the war criminals who sit behind their desks and receive reports.<br />
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Come to think about it, maybe this is the "culture" the asshole Romney was talking about. The culture of bloodthirsty generals who get rich on the dead bodies of their neighbors. The culture of aggression without retribution.<br />
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I can imagine how brave a director has to be to produce a film like this. May it be an eye-opener for all the 19-year-old scared soldiers out there at the checkpoints. Lookout, for your aggression will come and get you, either asleep or awake.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-60197306178450890242012-07-18T00:07:00.001+02:002012-07-18T00:07:20.943+02:00Taken... into the skies of disgust<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Taken is a miniseries of 10 episodes, 1:20 minutes each. That means I wasted almost 13 hours of my life watching it.<br />
<br />
It began decently. The story looked coherent, and there were many hints that promised an interesting ending. Unfortunately, the last 4 episodes just blew in the face of the makers. It was beyond bad. It was badly written beyond belief by a script writer asshole who has innovation in him as much as I have alien brain power. The stage theatricals in the end was so base that they couldn't have made it worse even if they tried.<br />
<br />
The aliens who were in control the whole series simply faded away. All the spotlights went towards a selfish, stupid mother who has nothing to show for her motherhood emotions than holding on to her daughter like a leech, a father who has as much role as I do in the events, a scientist-detective-dunno-what-else who represents evil by doing evil acts aimlessly, and of course an army general who acts as if his superiors were in another planet and timeline. In a nutshell, the series managed to gather all elements of bad American acting. Add to that crappy music, and you got yourself a winner - of the worst ever miniseries award.<br />
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Fuck you Spielberg for putting your name on crap like this. I hope Leslie Bohem loses a hand rather than plight viewers again with such loopholes that makes dinosaurs look like insects.<br />
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Products like this happen when art turns into an occupation rather than a form of expression. It just makes me sad that artists can stoop down so low.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-59062316795958579372012-05-26T13:53:00.001+02:002012-05-26T13:58:11.651+02:00Homage to Catalonia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
This book was a disillusionment of the grandest kind. It tells about war as it is, not as it should be or as it is perceived to be. Orwell, who went to fight for his ideas in a foreign country and took his wife along, has been wounded in his neck during the war. Still he reminds us that "war is evil, and it is often the lesser evil". He also reminds us that "There are occasions when it pays better to fight and be beaten than not to fight at all."<br />
<br />
You have to be blind not to see plain truths like the fact that the policeman is the natural enemy of the worker. Like Orwell, I do not have to ask myself which side I am on when there is a conflict between the two. Plain untruths like the police (or army for that matter) being our brothers and relatives does not sound logical anymore. The police has been invented to protect the capitalist, wealthy classes and their properties from those who are being enslaved in the capitalist machine. Who they are is not of any consequence. Brothers have been killing each other ever since the first two brothers on Earth (if you believe the Adam story) so why would they stop now?<br />
<br />
A very important aspect of the book dealt with the political situation during the civil war. Franko and the faschists were on one side, and the government and everybody else (socialists, communists, anarchists, trade unions, workers) on the other. It was an international war fought of the Spanish soil. There were international brigades on both sides. Fascists from Italy and Germany fought for Franko, while communists and socialists from all over Europe and even America were fighting on the Government's side. A neglected fact was that there were so many Italians and Germans fighting against Fascism during the war.<br />
<br />
But the war was also a war against revolution, and both sides were allies in this regard. The government and the communists were doing all their best to quench the revolution. Anyone who was supporting the revolution and the freedom of workers and farmers were labelled as a Trotskyst and flung into jail on the Government's side. Communist propaganda was portraying anyone in support of the revolution to be in the pay of Franko. "Libel settles nothing," Orwell wrote. And Communists have always been trying to settle their disputes with libel.<br />
<br />
"But so long as no argument is produced except a scream of "Trotsky-Faschist!" the discussion cannot even begin." How many similar screams do we hear now? But we never think about it. We just shout and accuse and raise fingers. And who is in the lurch? The ignorant farmer and worker. Those who voted for someone like Shafiq after 60 years of totalitarian military rule.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-41884962046786888822012-05-19T15:44:00.000+02:002012-05-19T15:44:00.289+02:00Cairokee - Helmi Ana<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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عبد الناصر: الشعب العربي شعب واحد، والجيش العربي جيش واحد، ولن يفرق بيننا الاستعمار أو أعوان الاستعمار.</div>
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أنا مش حنحني ولا بانتمي</div>
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ليك يا زماني</div>
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أنا مش هتسند ولا هتولد</div>
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فيك يا زماني</div>
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حلمى أنا أزرع ورود</div>
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مكان الحدود</div>
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بين البشر</div>
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أمسح دموع</div>
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طفل موجوع</div>
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وحاسس بالخطر</div>
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حلمى أنا فى عيون الناس</div>
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لكنه تاه وسط الاحداث</div>
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لكن أنا مش ناسى</div>
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أنا مش ناسي</div>
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ومش قادر أبدأ من جديد</div>
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أنا مش هنكسر ولا هتإسر</div>
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فيك يا زماني</div>
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أنا مش هرتوى من بحر غرقانة فيه كل احلامى</div>
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حلمى أنا إن العيون</div>
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متشفش لون للانسان</div>
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نلغى الحروب ونجمع قلوب</div>
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تدوق السلام</div>
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Nasir: The Arab people Are United. The Arab army is united. Neither colonialism nor its agents will ever come between us.</div>
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I will not bow, and I do not belong</div>
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to you, my time.</div>
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I will not lean on, and I will not be born</div>
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in you, my time.</div>
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My dream is to plant roses</div>
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instead of borders</div>
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between people,</div>
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to wipe out the tears</div>
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of a child in pain</div>
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and in danger.</div>
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My dream is in the eyes of people,</div>
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but it was lost amid events.</div>
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Still, I did not forget.</div>
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I did not forget,</div>
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and I cannot start over new.</div>
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I will not be broken, and I will be imprisoned</div>
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in you, my time.</div>
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I will never quench my thirst from a sea where all my dreams have drowned.</div>
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My dream is that eyes</div>
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do not see a color for people.</div>
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To abolish wars, and gather hearts</div>
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to enjoy peace.</div>
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Note: this is my own translation. Suggestions for better choice of words will be more than welcome.</div>
</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-43916787195863102572012-05-12T00:35:00.000+02:002012-05-12T00:35:25.066+02:00The 2 Girls with Dragon Tattoos<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
The two movies you see above represent all the shit Hollywood has to offer. On the left, the Original 2009 Swedish movie. On the right, the Hollywood 2011 remake.<br />
<br />
Both movies were based on a Swedish novel titled Män som hatar kvinnor (Men Who Hate Women) by Stieg Larsson.<br />
<br />
Somehow, the Hollywood version managed to be worse than the Swedish version in almost every aspect. It was less coherent, the building of events was less convincing, the events were less natural, and the ending just sucked big time compared to the older Swedish version.<br />
<br />
Bear in mind that I am comparing a Hollywood movie with a budget of $90 million to a Swedish movie with a budget of $13 million. Sounds like a fair comparison to me.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-2874983212511046512012-05-07T22:50:00.002+02:002012-05-07T22:50:36.322+02:00My Own Depression<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You were absolutely right. Everyone makes his own depression.<br />
<br />
I was at peace with myself when I left on my way back to my own life. Staying with family for a week while knowing I have my own life somewhere far away from them made it easier to love them for a change. It made it much easier to forgive the narrowness of mind and the isolation. It made it harder to be pulled down emotionally and mentally.<br />
<br />
Only a few days were enough to remind me why I moved out the moment I was able to, why I traded my comfy room with an almost unfurnished apartment - my apartment, why I chose to sleep on the floor for many months until I was able to afford a bed. I remembered why independence has always been my goal.<br />
<br />
I will always remember that moment on the bus leaving Mecca when I felt at peace with myself. It was only a few moments after hugging my uncle goodbye and seeing him from the window waiting for the bus to leave. I knew I will not meet him for at least 3 months, he and the rest of the family. It might be cruel, but I was glad to leave. Loving them from a distance is better than hating them and wishing to get as much away as possible.<br />
<br />
My mother, sister and aunt were at the hotel. They missed the excitement of having to follow the bus by taxi to the next station. Luckily the station was only 15 minutes away. At that moment I felt strong. I was about to be without shelter in Mecca for at least 15 hours, but I felt strong. I was about to go back to the family after saying the second ever goodbye, but I was able to smile. Maybe for the first time in my life I felt confident in a tight situation.<br />
<br />
But the peace did not last for long. Soon I was already thinking of the days to come when I will have to sit as I am sitting now, doing nothing. I remembered that the closest friend I have will already be away for the next 3 weeks. I remembered that the dear Yerba Mate that I brought back from Lebanon will not be shared as it should be.<br />
<br />
I was already slipping back to my usual self. I thought that the few days of being away and the days of torment before that were enough to heal my craze. But I was mistaken. Seeing you from the bus window was enough to kick me out of my illusions of normality. A salute of recognition was enough to make my day, and then a tough reply was enough to make me want to dip my fingers in my chest and wring all feelings out and be done with them forever.<br />
<br />
I can remember every word you have ever said to me. I can even remember every conversation you had when I was near. This is why I found myself referring to something you said 3 weeks ago, expecting you to remember. Of course you didn't. Of course you thought I was talking about something else. It is a curse to remember every detail related to someone you do not dare even dream of being with. A very cruel curse.<br />
<br />
Maybe it is the last shred of unconscious self-defense that is making you the hardest person in the world to talk to. Maybe it is the masochist in me trying to make anyone I like even more unreachable. It has always been like that whenever I wanted to get to know someone I like. Winners are at their best when attracting attention is needed, but your truly stutter, stare, wander, say incomplete sentences and usually make an ass of himself. I don't even manage to stick to one language (and I know you do not like that). The fear of rejection is always there lurking around.<br />
<br />
But believe it or not, now is much better than before. If I would've seen you a couple of years ago, you wouldn't have probably known I ever existed. You would've thought I am trying to avoid you even if you knew I exist. Not much to be proud of, but at least there is some sort of progress.<br />
<br />
Exchanging a few words with you has now become the absolute center around which my day revolves. I do not even hope to have that everyday. Just a few words whenever the situation allows it, nothing more.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-60228745501434156022012-04-28T01:22:00.001+02:002012-04-28T01:22:16.793+02:00Hijaz road trip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I got on the bus at 5 pm yesterday. Three bus rides later and after 31 hours on the road, I arrived in Al Madinah a couple of hours ago.<br />
<br />
It was a tiring trip, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Just me, my music, my book, my thoughts and my memories.<br />
<br />
The bus ride from the heart of Doha to Al Ahsa took less than 5 hours, passport checkup and all. After waiting for about 3 hours in Al-Ahsa, I took the bus to Riyadh. My second bus ride took 4 hours. In Riyadh I had to wait again for 4 hours for my third and last bus ride to Al Madinah. Luckily, I know a friend who currently lives in Riyadh. He picked me up from the bus station and we wandered around the city and had breakfast. It felt good to see a familiar face and catch up after almost a year.<br />
<br />
Now comes my last and longest bus ride from Riyadh to Al Madinah. The 13-hour bus ride stopped at many stations in between. Some of the cities we stopped at looked more like ghost towns than populated areas. Other cities like Al Rass and Buraydah were pretty much alive. Passengers getting down and passengers getting up. Very cheap food in rest houses. A great road experience.<br />
<br />
On the way from Al Ahsa to Riyadh I was doing my best to keep you off my mind. Then I fall asleep and there you are, smiling from a distance. In my dream I was not sure whether or not you were smiling for me. I was hoping you are, but there was no way I can be sure. I woke up happier. You have the ability to make my day from hundreds of miles away even without you knowing.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-58964679553034396092012-04-25T18:57:00.000+02:002012-04-25T18:57:17.259+02:00Alone on the Road<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Packing my bag for my third trip in 4 months. Setting sail to the fourth country. Those who were supposed to be waiting for me will not be waiting, but the trip must be taken nonetheless.<br />
<br />
It must have been painful to go to the airport and then go back home disappointed. It must be difficult to hang on to the shreds of faint hope of going even if late. Imagine a mother expecting to see her only son after 8 months of absence. She packs and goes to the airport with the rest of the family, only to find out that their Saudi visas have expired 24 hours ago. Her son was planning to catch up with her a couple of days later. Now he will go alone to a country he refused to visit so many times before. 24 hours on the bus and he will be on a land for which he always had mixed feelings, and only decided to visit for the sole purpose of seeing the family without having to go back the land of so many memories.<br />
<br />
Funny it should be Saudi Arabia this time. The name that is most hateful to my heart. The image of a country hijacked by a family. Even the name is symbolic of taking what was never theirs.<br />
<br />
I go without saying goodbye. Without even saying hello. For you I still do not exist. You probably will never notice anyway. You will go on living in your own world, being what you are and doing what you do. This world of yours is like a forbidden kingdom to me. A kingdom full of happiness unattainable, beauty unseen and knowledge that would make a philosopher out of a dumb ass.<br />
<br />
I tore myself open to you in exchange for a smile of recognition and a couple of words, but even that is too precious to give. But for that damned microphone on that damned day, I would have been able to conceal whatever I'm feeling as I always did whenever a crush was upon me. I would have tried patiently to attract your attention and become your friend, and this would have either cured me or numbed me. After a week of suffering I just had to jump into the pit. And I did. And in there it is as lonely as it ever was.<br />
<br />
Funny how all your would revolve on saying the most stupid tale ever. And you would say it over and over again in your head, realizing how stupid it was and how insignificant it will be.<br />
<br />
My story of the day was about the power cut in Jaita Grotto. Yours truly was in a boat in the lower cave. We made the tour and were heading back to the spot where we have to lower our heads to pass. Out of a sudden, the cave became pitch dark. For almost 3 minutes the metal boats were clanking, the people shouting and the skippers trying to control the boats while asking everyone to bend their heads as low as possible. It was exciting in a dark and macabre kind of way.<br />
<br />
Every day you are around there will be a story that will most probably remain untold. Every day I will make your laugh in my mind. Every day I will take a glimpse of you and recharge the batteries of my memory and imagination. I was never good at telling stories, but your laugh is worth every attempt. And if they were never told, at least they will remain forever connected to you in my mind.<br />
<br />
And so I am, still aiming for the impossible. But my only consolation is that I have no choice.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-84274011753905890312012-04-23T16:04:00.000+02:002012-04-23T16:04:39.330+02:00That awkward moment when you wish you were never born to do a mistake like this...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/nZq_jeYsbTs" width="420"></iframe></div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-75779986904073581692012-04-20T02:11:00.000+02:002012-04-20T02:11:27.670+02:00I want you to notice when I'm not around. Or even when I'm around.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The sole purpose of my existence now is to make you notice my existence. I cannot work, eat, or sleep properly until that happens. I don't care for rejection anymore. You cannot reject someone who does not exist.<br />
<br />
For months I was able to resist my crush on you. It was easy when you were not around. I was able to avoid it and avoid you, to clear you away to the darkness of my subconsciousness. But it all came pouring in torrents the moment you held that damned microphone. Your spontaneity destroyed every shred of resistance I might have held on to consciously or unconsciously.<br />
<br />
I always imagined myself telling you how your smile makes the world a better place. That when you smile, some people around you that you do not and might never know of their existence have happier days. That smiling to the world in your case makes a hell of a difference. Now it is far worse. Now I am having conversation with you for hours in my head. I have not done that in years. I thought I killed this habit in those dreary years when I almost lost my connection with humankind. Apparently not.<br />
<br />
I expect nothing. I want nothing. I hope for nothing more than a smile and a salute when you see me. For me you are the impossible impersonated. I might as well aim for attracting an angel in heavens than attract you. All I want is to come clean. To see how you will react. The highest hopes I have is to be on speaking terms with you.<br />
<br />
I lost my existence three days ago. I don't know how one can manage to lose the sense of his own existence by having a crush, but it happened. Even your rejection will make me feel better now. "At least I was brave enough to tell her," that's what I would tell myself.<br />
<br />
Ever since I came back from Beirut I have been trying to attract your attention. But I almost always ended up just staring at you like an idiot on our way home. Sometimes I managed to gather my courage and throw a word here or there. A stupid comment about traffic signals in Beirut. D Shaklaha namet. Asking you to ask the bus to wait for me. But unfortunately, opportunities were not that many.<br />
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Here I am at 3 am, talking to everyone in the world, and no one at all. That's how pathetic I feel right now.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-43781187514939618962011-12-06T20:01:00.000+02:002011-12-06T20:01:20.652+02:00Coldplay, another dream on its way to come true!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So my ticket to the Coldplay concert on New Year's Eve in Abu Dhabi is booked. The plane is ticket is booked. Everything's ready.<br />
How cool can this year be? A revolution in January, my dream of leaving Egypt comes true in July, first plane ride ever on the same month, and here I am flying again to Abu Dhabi for the Coldplay concert!<br />
I love my life right now!</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-20613140149412977582011-08-17T00:04:00.000+02:002011-08-17T00:04:21.076+02:00Getting Used to Qatar<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It has been about a month now since I arrived here in Qatar. I am still very happy, and still don't really miss Egypt. I miss friends of course, but so many friends came and left last year that I got used to being away from people.<br />
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It's such a refreshing feeling to be away from everything I have ever known! Nothing like discovering a small country, really. I can say that I've been about. I haven't been everywhere, but if I put my mind to it this can be done in a week. Most of the hangouts here are shopping centers and restaurants The dominant cuisine over here is the Syrian/Lebanese (not surprising). So far I haven't been to any Egyptian restaurants. They are there, but they are few, unlike Turkish or Syrian restaurants that are there in every corner.<br />
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It took me almost 3 weeks to know where I live. Streets are pretty much the same everywhere. No tall buildings here except for the famous hotels. Other than that, it's mostly compounds of 2 or 3 stories.<br />
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What was really new to me was the traffic lights. There are a lot of intersections, and thanks to traffic lights, there is no need for bridges or U-turns. The country is full of cars (everyone here can afford getting a car), but still the streets are not crowded. There are parking spots everywhere so you don't have to throw your car anywhere and go.<br />
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I really enjoy living in Qatar!</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-86123210718615223542011-07-23T16:17:00.000+02:002011-07-23T16:17:47.736+02:00Blogging from Doha!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Finally, I am out of Egypt. Last night was the first ever to spend away from Egypt. Ir still feels kind of different, but enjoyable to the extreme!<br />
I just got back from my very first supermarket visit here. The prices are not that different from Egypt. Most of the products you will find in the supermarket costs the same or maximum 10% more than any usual supermarket in Egypt. I guess the difference here is that you can't find really cheap low quality products (like Tamween in Egypt for example). Also all personal care stuff that you usually buy from a pharmacy in Egypt are available in supermarkets instead.<br />
A good example of the prices here would be a pepsi can. Here you can get it for 1.5 Riyals.<br />
Good day everyone and enjoy whatever you're doing!</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-42354686858822865962011-06-26T10:12:00.000+02:002011-06-26T10:12:51.920+02:00Good Will Hunting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Will Hunting was a mathematical genius. Everything about him said he is very confident. Still, deep inside him he cannot really trust anyone. He cannot feel love. He cannot feel anything except fear of the other. A fear deep down that one day the other will abandon him.<br />
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Now the dilemma is: can you fix insecurity all by yourself? Can a lifetime problem, a childhood complex like that, be fixed by working on one's self?</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-64562984394202295552011-06-18T12:19:00.000+02:002011-06-18T12:19:50.426+02:00Turning point<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here I am not knowing what to write. I don't sleep well. I have 2 things on my mind and I can't get them off. I wake up everyday with the feeling that I saw horrible dreams I can't remember. Not the best feeling ever, that.<br />
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My mind is just blank. I want to write about my prospects. I want to write about someone special. But in both cases waiting is all I can do. Just wait, wait, wait till something turns up. And if there's anything I hate, it's waiting.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-15803216886779115432011-06-08T11:57:00.000+02:002011-06-08T11:57:28.340+02:00Amanda Fucking Palmer and Evelyn Evelyn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Amanda Palmer is everything I would hate and despise in normal circumstances. She posts naked pics of herself on her website. She appears naked in public places. She sings in her lingerie. She is very proud of her pubic and armpits hair. She is controversial to the extreme. Yet, I find myself liking her. I even find her attractive (or sexy if you prefer this word). I think she is a very talented musician and I love her crazy lyrics.<br />
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I first heard about Amanda Palmer a couple of years ago. I liked her immediately and liked her album and listened to it all the time. Then somehow I totally forgot about her. For I dunno how much time I never listened to her and she never crossed my mind. Until yesterday. My some coincidence I rediscovered her, and through her I discovered a song I have been listening to for almost 3 hours: Evelyn Evelyn.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/pixkuUL9LgU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>I feel like I'm not myself. Or, I feel like myself is not my idea of myself. Maybe I should let go and make Amanda Palmer my new idol.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-27414917580136710542011-06-06T03:12:00.000+02:002011-06-06T03:12:04.965+02:00Rusty me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Bit by bit I am removing layers of rust that covered my soul for years. It is going to be a long process, and I will need a huge amount of luck to become alive, but I am hopeful. I am learning and remembering things about myself, and I am getting better at understanding someone else. It has to be different this time. It just has to.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294533811515356388.post-11671688434903007762011-05-31T03:17:00.000+02:002011-05-31T03:17:27.865+02:00Reflections<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Reflecting one's own fears and insecurities in one's opinions is one of the most basic and unintentional of the human traits.<br />
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Think about this when you criticize anything you don't approve of. Ask yourself: can you do it? When I think about it, it's usually that I can't.</div>Mohammadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12143995185840381759noreply@blogger.com1