cleaning up...

Funny how sometimes you just leave shit piled up in your space for no good reason, other that your will to Not use force against an object that is nothing but a mere representation of something you hardly even remember,...
still it's a nice shoot, i enjoyed it.

illustrative figures

not particularly clear

i was going through a really ugly looking notebook I've been using for the last year or so, and i found some phrases i wrote to my self,

The Easy way out :
is to believe that you are fated to fail,
is to loose ground before you even start,
is to believe that no matter how thoughtless you become, things will still go your way,
if you don't leave this battlefield as in right now, you'll just start another war.

a fast moving thing,...

when i was fourteen, still exploring my new found world, still wondering about this new place i was in, i was once walking what looked to me like a desolate road, lots of sand on both sides, and lots of wreckage everywhere, not a soul to be seen, i can’t recall what i was thinking about, but i do remember what i felt, i was down, i was upset, i was looking at my feet as i walked, not really paying much attention to anything around me, and for an unknown reason, i kicked something i know i didn’t see, or even realize what i was kicking, it entered my vision as a fast moving ... thing, that just sped up ahead, the way it moved caught my eye, it was moving in a straight line, didn’t waver, didn’t bounce, and just cut through all the sand a debris without being stopped, stopping, i followed it with my eyes till it lost it’s momentum and fell to one side,

i moved towards it, i still couldn’t tell exactly what it was, it did seem like some kind of disk, or something,...

hastily i walked/ran to it, and i found it in the dust, a solid earth brown globe, it was solid stone, it’s surface was near perfect, almost flawless, it’s oddly symmetrical globular surface was poked, but not in a way that made it any less perfect, it was a perfect ellipsoid, with a perfect circular diameter, i marvelled at it for i time i cannot remember, i thought about how odd this stone was, as i have found it in a street, obviously not man made, i kept thinking about how many miles did that stone roll through to gain that shape, a shape that to my teen eyes looked very much like what the earth looked like, i was so mesmerized with it, and how it’s weight fit perfectly in my hand, i cleaned it up and put it my school bag, and headed home,...

when i was twenty three, i remember finding a sort of holder for it, it seemed to crown it, i had just applied to Architecture school, and was tasked with a what it seemed back then to us, a difficult project, i remember being up all night for more than 3 days thinking about that project, until one moment i noticed that i had placed that stone on an amber glass ashtray, and that the light was playing inside the amber glass in a way that made the stone catch my imagination again, to my eyes it seemed like an awesome dome with a huge party filled with lights underneath it, and Bam! i had an idea, and not only an idea for the project, but as i held that stone in my hand, i felt it’s familiar weight and symmetry whispering to me again, i felt like i had had one of the secrets of this world in my hand, and all i had to do was look for it, touch it, feel it, and let it out,...

in the following years, i recall thinking a lot about that stone, and how i never got to the point of designing that first building i saw in it, i came close at times, but never the original idea, always when i had in my hand, i would float off to another thought, it’s perfect weight and symmetry somehow stimulated me and calmed my usually contradictory thoughts, ...

it became my dream-stone,

every time i can remember my self finding a good solution to some problem, or a way to understand some bizarre thing i had to face, it was there, in my hand, or just in my eye sight,

it made for a great handy hammer as well, and a wonderful if a bit insane decoration to my room,

when i was thirty, i remember sharing it’s secrets with a friend, i remember him being startled as it worked it’s magic on him, and what was a discussion about his fucked up love life, transmuted into a discussion about how insanely amazing this stone was, and how it’s proportions and weight were so perfect it was almost unbelievable that it was not man made, ... it did the trick.

during all these years that i have had it, i almost never allowed anyone to touch it, i was more protective of it than anything else i owned, only this friend of mine, maybe an ex. or two, but generally i never allowed anyone to much around with it, ...

until two or three months ago,

i had met someone,

the day i showed it to her, was a very special day for us, the minute i put it in her hand, i knew it fit her, as perfectly as it fit me, and for the first time ever since i had found my dream-stone, i wanted her to have it,...

she wouldn’t take it, i tried and tried till she took it, and i told her that from this day, this stone is hers, i told her what it was, and how dear this piece of earth is to me, ...

for a month that stone was not in my room, the first month ever,

and i was happy to know that she had it, i hoped it worked it’s magic for her, the way it did for me, i was ok with letting her have my dreams, to fit them in her hand, and hopefully find the weight reassuring, and steadying,...

the months passed by,

one night, she called me after a terrible fight, and wanted to pass by to drop something by,

i knew what she was bringing back, i told her to not bring it back, to keep it, to throw it back into a desolate street, i couldn’t take that back, i couldn’t take back a dream that was once mine then freely given, ...

after a long long night, she won the argument,

i was freaked that she had put it in a box, a little black box with a star in a circle in top of it, i freaked that she had locked it up, inside a box, when i have never put in anywhere but “out there for all to see”, her answer to that was that she kept her dear things in a box, while i kept my dear things in the open, ... she couldn’t understand how upset i was about stuffing a dream a thought a feeling into a box, we were too different,

i took my dream-stone and kept it in her magic-black-box, as a symbol of keeping things the way she wanted them, for now, ... or so i told her,

things between us went downhill from that night,

in a couple of weeks, i found my self taking my dream-stone out of her black-box, washing it clean from her perfume, closing the box, and putting it in a partition next to the one with my stone in, ... i couldn't bring my self to throw away her box, nor did i want her perfume all over my stone,

now, after a while, after i had almost forgotten about that box, and had kept my self busy as not to think about her,

i find my self not opening her empty box, i don’t want her scent to come out, and wear away, or that i would get used to smelling it again, but mostly i fear it evaporating the moment i open that box, the same way i have avoided looking inside me at what has happened between us, as if I'm afraid i would wear out that memory, i do not want to touch that memory, for fear that it would become less,

her magic-black-box is still right next to my stone, which now smells again like coffee, tobacco and paint,

i still smell her sent when i walk past the black box,

i ignore it,

and move on,

or so i say.

sketch drawn and added on 04.11.2010
didn't feel like showing you my real dream stone ;)

before it's too late for you.

We all live in our respective bubbles, we never realize how we all ultimately connect, and how silly and one tracked our feeble minds are, we live and dream inside our isolated well honed boundaries, and woe be unto any who attempts to break through the status quo, …

in one week,

I realized I'm in love with a woman I want to marry more than anything, lost a friend who could have been more than just a friend to a meaningless car accident, almost on the same day I proposed, see my life long buddy fight his fears, man up, and get married to the woman he loves, see my best friend tear her heart apart with her own hands, just because she's too afraid to be loved, listen to my parents rant on and on, about how life sucks, and how hopeless everything is, my arch friend is as usual being a creep about anything that smacks him as emotional, another friend will not take a damned move in her life, because she cant make up her mind what is what, another dear friend took a decision that is decisive and to the point, another kid I like is off somewhere doing well, when he didn't expect it, while another kid is still whirling about in self doubt and recanting a self made mantra that “he can”, …
I care deeply about each and every one of these people, and each is a beautiful, if at times quirky, presence in my life, and I wonder from time to time if they even see the threads that connect them to one another, and how fragile their lives really is, and how beautiful they all are,
and here I am, watching them do stuff, and making up stories to fill in the gaps, while my life takes it's tumbling quirky path, …
you know what, …
it is all connected,
just look up.

R.I.P. Dalia Anna Nabiel, you were a beautiful woman, and a wonderful person, and you deserved better from me.

a perfect conversation,

She storms into the room,
I pause,
she calmly informs me of nothing,
I nod and thank her for that,
she screams her fears, almost crying,
I ask her why,
her heart explodes with agony,
she blames me for everything,
I ask her again,
she turns around,
slams the door behind here,
and I thank her for that,
I resume.

and a child shall lead them ...

something about a baby's smile just puts things into perspective for me, the way they look at the world with that unfocused gaze, and suddenly smile, just drives home the point for me,
it's not about the now, the now is too much of a mess to really do anything with it but move on,
and if the now is so transient, then the past entirely looses significance, and much of it's weight,
the past also becomes the womb of which we had just left behind, still a little too close for close examination,
the future is what remains,
ah yes,
the future,
as vague as it might be, only babies seem to see it with those unfocused eyes, and what they see makes them smile, and that is a hopeful sign,
if it makes a baby smile, it just can't be bad,
and if the present is this transient, and the past too close, well ...
it only leaves the future open,
maybe with a little less focus on our worries, insecurities, and fears,
maybe we too can smile.

thank you, Maryam Akram Ghalib Bikzadeh (my long time accomplice's little girl and my God Daughter :D )
even if you might not know it, you have made my day with that smile, i hope that one day, you might teach us things, and thingies ... and thingie thing thingies ...

More on Contrast

Nature is a colloquial term we use to describe the original state of things as they are found in their original default settings/surroundings,
In our current version of the world, we live in a constant state of alteration of our settings, and since sexuality has always been a prime attraction for human beings, hence now we are tinkering with those settings sometimes without really knowing what we are fooling with, for the single reason of dealing with our insecurities or inadequacies be they true or perceived, the same way we fool around with our mp3 player or a program's settings, you try something different and if you don't like it, there is an undo button somewhere,
in Nature there is no undo button, or at least it does not work the way you think it might,
tread lightly my friend.

Barren

16/3/2006
Amazing, just amazing
all ends, all rends
fictional revalations ...
she .... ,
it always seems to begin with a she,
revolve around a she ...
she walks in scilence,
face cast downwards,
looking for her misplaced toil..
it's just a fictional thing,
i feel barren, unable to produce
only can confuse ..
**

Why do we do what we do?
what forces drives us, what madness lurks within us

Ashes

when every step you take is in a direction you have not foreseen
a direction you resent, with consequences unseen
when every voice you make is a command
for more things to go awry and not withstand
when silence becomes bliss
while you try so hard not miss
when anger is your constant friend, sorrow your unwanted companion
when nothing seems right anymore when no one is there anymore,
when it's almost too dark to see
where you thought you would never be
just then when it's as bad as it can ever be ..
it gets bloody worst

After

After a long perioud of silence, it's very hard to crack the shell that was expertly woven around you, hard to express things again, memeories of faded toughts, and loose ends just hang there infront of you, gathering up the pieces and carrying on? ... feels much easier to just sit and wait, only problem that it is illogical and self destructive .. , why isn't there a reset button? , think four months should be enough for a reboot to finish? , apearently not .. yet?
every time i touch my guitar i can almost ... almost ...
and why the heck am i getting emotional to the brink of tears watching cartoons, or mobineil ads? ... not yet!

I Learned that i can cry
I've earned the right to try
and I hope i can deny
that i pray for another day

Chourus
I live my life on the brink of a storm
and i pray for another day
I put my life on the Brink of that storm
and wish for another way
end chorues

Seeds

15th August 2006

Argumentive disruptions and automated replies dominate our unsponsored lives,
he who lives the most or hurts the most , to otheres he simply denies,
to have once been there, to have held it up,
to have never been bidden, cliams to never grow up,
too many sides to each facet, off with the widnows,
make it free for all and follow where the wind blows,
the smallest corner is that that creates the swirls,
while torn apart internally, your concoiunse exeedingly twirls.
love, loyalty, honor and trust,
all fictional,
all redundant,
just give out what you can, when you can, and one day, well ... simply you will run out.