The Cairene

Four years ago , I was full of hope. I strongly believed in my revolution, proudly talked about it and the 18 days of battles and glories. I praised the martyrs and was glad to see Mubarak and his gang finally behind the bars. I was excited about Egypt's tomorrows. I tasted victory, smelled freedom and saw happy dreams about a better future for my nation; I was satiated. I saw power, power of people and I absolutely admired our unity. Egyptians were happy and optimistic; for the first time, they felt worthy and lofty. Strangers felt like my people, we belonged to each other as we battled together. I remember the day Mubarak was toppled and everyone was hugging another around the streets with the fireworks above our heads. We saw change- I mean, we made it with our voices, struggles, sweat and blood. We touched glimpses of our future and it looked vivid enough. We saw a country that need to be built from scratch, and we were ready to it and the skies witnessed it all.   Three y

When I was younger, I was a very curious kid. I wanted to know everything and try everything on my own without any supervision. I loved staying around older people and reading every banners or ads billboards. I even read the newspaper and would count every article's number of words (Don't ask me why I used to do that, but I liked to do it anyway). I loved playing in our street and buying groceries for mama and I'd get very pissed off if she asks my brother t o accompany me; I liked independence. I don't know if that curiosity was related to the fact that I have older 5 siblings, but I didn't mind it, I guess. I remember when baba brought a PC computer for the first time for my sister I was very excited to use it. I actually did; in 3 days, I was a solitaire pro and I was only 6 and that PC was only 1GB, but I gotta admit it took me a while to know what a gigabyte is). I liked to be taken seriously all the time that I would buy a mango fruit instead of snacks and s

They will always claim to know you. They will always think that the word "friends" makes them know you more than you know yourself. They'd disdainfully tell you that you will be fine, but it never works. Friends, you all gather. Blowing their cigarettes and shisha smoke, you begin to sink into your immense doubtful thinking; what have you done right? Who am I? I ask. You are "you", they snappily reply. And it feels even harder and I start feeling even more lost into their "you". I look back. It's all gone. What I have built and all what I have done. Gone, gone, gone and now I have become someone I'm not sure how to tame. There's no book of instructions or former users. I stand alone. I am supposed to stand tall when I don't know how to even stand. But I stand anyway; and that's how it all works. The way you don't know yourself, is exactly the same way how you do it without even knowing that you are halfway

ريم خورشيد تكتب : معركة الأمعاء الخاوية " التعذيب في السجون لم يبدأ من جديد، فهو لم يتوقف منذ أن فشلنا في تطهير الداخلية (أحد مطالب ثورة 25 يناير). و لكنه الآن زاد بشدة مع تداول فيديوهات وشهادات تؤكد حدوث وفيات أثر شدة التعذيب في السجون المصرية وأقسام الشرطة مع الاعلان عن أسباب وفاه وهمية...."

Too many Bibles and Qurans in our cars, but too little religion in our ethics. Too many weddings, but too little successful marriages. Too many kids, but a lot less parents. Too many schools, but very little education. Too many dates, but a lot less love. Too many books, but very little knowledge. Too many humans, but too little humanity. Too many money, but too little happiness. Too many lives, but no Life . Too many good people, but they end up leaving us too early. Way too many good people, but one big ugly unfair world.  It’s like having a beautiful good garden, but without fruits-or having a garden with grotesque, unwanted trees. Too many forms, words and labels but too little function; it makes the 'too much' of everything seems all pointless.

For a normal person, what shapes a human's life is a combination of words like oxygen, food, work, sleep and shower- all the simple actions and series of abstracts which altogether form our existence. In Palestine, it is different. In Palestine, their life goes around deeply and hurtfully profound words like occupation, drones, air strikes, prisons, hunger strikes, death, martyrs, war, damages and bombs. These words are powerful to take at once. These dictions describe things that you would run from.  These dictions painfully embrace every Palestinian life after they are all put in action. For everyone, we are created from visually identical blood and flesh. We are all humans and we were all granted a sense of humanity. It baffles me now how some of us decided to cut off their humanity not knowing how valuable it is. Going around hearing people justifying Israel's crime against Palestinians is some kind of unsolvable equation for me, because just like water and oil, po

For quite a long time, I was dipped in apathy. I was totally okay with it, regardless where it was slopping me into. I knew it wouldn't end well, yet I couldn't care less as I had already reached the point where I loathed all the kinds of emotions. I kept constantly reminding myself that I don't need to feel or to live or to survive, and that was when I actually let go of everything I have always been clinging to, and ran from everyone I have always stuck to their back. I found myself sarcastically mocking everyone who showed their feelings; I called everything feelings-related 'crap', totally blinding myself from seeing how blurry my mind has become and how cold my soul has turned to. I couldn't care less. I used to get all the kinds of "Okay" and "hmm" for sounding so heartless and dispassionate about what anyone would tell. I honestly didn't care because they all sounded shallow and hereafter, I would spend time on my own thinking abou

It has been a long time since I wrote anything and I have no clue why. Maybe I was constantly busy and distracted by the things that took place in front of my eyes rather than those which wade in the universes beneath my skin. Maybe because of many other reasons, but now I am not perturbed anymore, and I am more aware of all what is going on. Life is alright and death is around the corner; I still find myself confused which happens first. Life is alright and it is full of white, coloured and sugar coated lies. We are not even surprised. If you work hard, you will succeed, they said. If you fight, you win, they said. Life is good, they said. Be thankful, they said. Fuck you, I might say. Fuck you, and not because you are lying, but because you are blinded by your lies. I walk in the street and see pain. Every step reminds me of how unfair life is, in every single way. We aren't grabbed below that train, but other helpless people are. Claiming that everything is going to be al

,Dear Mr President It has been few days since you started ruling this country and I saw no change. I didn't give you my voice, and now, again, let me remind you why, but this time it is not words because I have more valid reasons. I heard your speeches and your promises. I heard you patriotism and your vows for Egypt. Well, you are a true Egyptians, and then? Does your role stop here? Everyone heard your speeches and it is time for you to  start listening to your people. I doubt that you even know what we want. Do you? To begin with, I am positive Egyptians need home. They need to call Egypt a home rather than a country. I need that too. Today's morning, you started a cycling marathon for around the streets. The media covered it well and I, personally, somehow fell for the sugarcoated headlines saying how you want to do something. But excuse me Mr President, this is not a club, it is a country. With it's economic, social, political and medical secto

You talked. I listened. I did almost nothing, but listened to you. I even listened to your silence and stares, to your sighs and exhales. And now, I shall stop, for I- am deafened with your existence.

Going out with my mom pushing me in that light blue baby's pushchair, he jumps out of his seat next to our building's entrance, smiles at me and then helps mom to land with me safety on the ground. After those hefty few minutes with him holding the pushchair down the stairs, he throws a nice compliment and his lost teeth show, and as a kid, I giggle. Growing up and going to school at 7 am, I'd still find him sitting there next to our building's entrance with his legs crossed and his face thinner. He says "Salamo Alikom ya Daktora Reem" , and I reply back " Wa Alkaykom Al Salam"  and smile. Nothing special, I walk away. Sitting with dad in the car, he rushes to clean the front glass and I see him breathing harder as his arms move tiredly. He smiles at us from behind the glass, dad and I smile back. Nothing special, we drive away. I grow a tad older, I run to school every morning without noticing if he's there or not, every day I pass

Disclaimer: This post is for fun purpose, so you guys don't take it seriously. It is all about generalizing and no one is particularly targeted. 1- AIESEC Fanatics: They think they are the coolest people taking part in the most cool extracurricular activity. They MUST, I repeat, they must be wearing those lousy aiesec bracelets. They try too hard to look like a badass group specially when it comes to standing at their booth. 2- The Nerd-Extremist There are plenty of this type. Almost everyone in CUFE (Except me ofc). Students from this type would never let their GPA drop less than 4.0 or 3.9. Getting 3.89999999999999 might lead them to some suicidal acts or self-harm. They never skip a class and never leave a lost mark in a quiz unquestioned. 3-The top student-wanna-be These usually have a low IQ, but they are so pretentious. They stick to the nerds' asses and try too hard to befriend them. They never skip lectures,bytlaza2o fel drs w el TAs without mercy,

Grabbing a cigarette after another to dilute the stress of the ambiance, we sat around that bizarre street's corner. It was an unusual place and I think it was what made the day feel so memorable. The weather was finely blended with mixed feelings of sadness and happiness all together. No one has prepared a Goodbye speech-not early enough at least- so it was a random chit-chat full of random lame jokes, followed by silence and crooked smiles. But it was alright, because the moon looked heavenly beautiful above our heads. Someone had to leave early and that was when the emotional strain increased as I noticed her watching one of her friends leave. With a genuine grin and melancholic eyes, she was memorializing the last scene for everyone because moving out for a year, at least, is not as easy as it sounds. The sweet irony embraced the scene of a person who's actually leaving watching someone else leave.    Time passed so slowly, yet the rush of our feelings made it f

To rapists: You heard her scream and blocked of your senses like you won. You didn't. You looked into her eyes and looked away immediately because you are a coward. You blamed her for what she wore and the way she covered her body thinking that the society's stupidity is your armour. Let me tell you, both, the society and you, are nothing but weak cowards who can't fight their diseases. Your mind is sick with nonsense and the only cure was you. It is late anyway, you are a villain and no sane would ever sympathise with you. I don't wish that anyone you know would get hurt. I don't wish that this would happen to your daughter or your wife or your sister or any women you know, it is not their faults. Only yours and you get to suffer for it, alone without anyone bothering because that sounds fair. To me, at least. What you have done to other women hurt me as well; not because I am woman like them, not because we have similar private body parts. It hurt me becaus

"Horreya, Horreya, Horreya." They cried as I looked up to the sky, so sure their echo reaches the watcher. And so sure he is with us. I sang along, to the songs of Freedom and Justice, and I Waited for the dawn to come with a warmer sun to warm the cold souls, and With a warmer sun, To burn those who burnt- the insides of mothers' hearts, after the dead bodies of their sons and daughters who cried and chanted and died, as I looked up to the sky; so sure that echo is blended with, gunshots and painful wails. And so sure he is within us. "Horreya, Horreya, Horreya." I sang along because I didn't need, any assurance, no more.

It has been a quite long while since I decided to write anything and I am not sure why. I have been feeling so blank and steady, in a way that I had to lie to myself about how good it is. It is not. Not a single bit. The nothingness I used to long for didn’t really feel as good as I expected. I used to have blends of feelings below my flesh and floods of hormones inside my bloodstream. I hated it back then. I lied. Or I don’t know what kind of feelings I have for it because right now, I am not feeling anything except brain blankness. Right now, there is nothing going on with my life actually, or I like to avoid getting myself into any situations or any kind of interaction that will take up lots of thoughts or self-talks. I don’t have a routine either. I just spend most of time on my own, read, watch movies or do anything that will not involve anyone. I don’t have a favourite person to share anything with and I don’t need anyone. Anyway, it is not something to be proud of. I me

Few hours ago, I was cussing the hell out of 2013 with my friends, complaining about how it was one of the worst years in my life. Until I grabbed a notebook and jotted down the most remarkable events that took place during it. The good and bad are balanced, the sad and happy are almost racing to the top and I am just sighing because literally speaking, it wasn’t a really bad year as I like to thi nk about it. The thing is, we tend to let sadness float with us wherever we go and that’s why it feels bad for a longer time, unlike happiness which evaporates faster than we feel. I got to say that I have made too many stupid mistakes in 2013 and needles to say, I learnt. So here’s to the year that I like to blame because I won’t blame my insecurities for ever. Here’s to the awesome people I met this year, the forgiving ones I reunited with and to the angry ones who left. Here’s to the differences that made me accept another, to the sad times that made me appreciate smiles and to the hards

The thing I like the most about  The Square  movie is not that it's just documenting the whole revolution since the first day till things got messed up. I like it most because I find it equivalent to 3askar kazeboon عسكر كاذبون videos but in a better quality. It shows all the army's crime and the MB's betrayal. It speaks the truth, or it actually saved it before it gets lost within the media's ongoing procedures to brainwash the Egyptians.

I used to feel so hopeless about this place. I remember those chats with friends when I said "I can't wait to graduate to leave this sh*thole". I can actually scroll down to my previous statuses and posts and see how desperate I sounded like after every forlorn incident which occurred during the past two years. But here I am, coming out of my flesh after muting my powerful inner voices. Here I am , not letting my mind trick me nor letting my heart lead me because freedom is way beyond a thought or a feeling. Here I am, letting the positive voices penetrates the fog and be deafeningly heard. I have always believed in the revolution and I still do. I have always believed in the power of people and change. Thus, I am not too hopeful nor too hopeless; I am just waiting for the right moment of change and I won't let it go. We have everything; the streets, the voices, the spirit, the chants and the motto. All is ready for this moment of the real revolution because it sh

Watching  The Square  movie and getting flooded with flashbacks of the revolution which made me realise that I really love this country, more that I thought. Some scenes piss me off and other calm me down; blends of emotions swamping me. Now, I am sure that I don't really hate this place and I am not willing to leave before I see what I was, and still, ready to take a bullet for. I am not feeling in difference nor hate against this place but its regime. For I know that a country is not just a land or its air or its rulers, for I know that a country is its people and builder; thus, I shall never leave until it becomes what we can truly call a "home".  Tomorrow we will rise and the unjust rulers shall all be gone. بكرة الثورة تقوم ما تخلّي.

I was hesitant. Always dithery and anxious about my choices. I knew the rights and wrongs, the left and right but still couldn’t decide. I waited, paused, crawled and stopped. I was always at the same place, rarely moved forward. It was safe and boring. I was jaded, by my stillness. Fear haunted me. I had to run. Fear cracked the whip for me. I ran. I didn’t get to choose and the pavements passed by me so fast. I knew a lot, saw more and lived many lives. My brain was nourished by scenes and my soul was quenched by experiences. I got tired and still kept running. I wanted to witness more and nothing else mattered. I was jaded, by life. I stopped running. And now, I am breathless, and proud, of my being.

Sitting at the quietest nook of the house with my darkest thoughts and insecurities, they are always my best companions. Embraced by the darkness and the cold breeze, listening to the saddest playlist anyone could ever create and here comes the worst part; always saved for last. The song that reminds me of the past and how every line and chorus awaken the cities lying on the outskirts of my soul. It numbs my body and stir up the liquids which protects every cell of my brain. Skip the song, Reem, just skip it. I have no idea who the other character is, but some abstract voice comes up and tells me to keep on listening. I am confused and the memory lane is passing before my mind, blinding my eyes but the past scenes and it feels like everything is happening right now. All over and over, the rush of feelings races inside the allies of my veins, it’s painful. I almost forgot where I am. Past is past but it’s not just past, it’s even more. I don’t think you can’t escape it, erase it no

Putting on some good music which brings back lots of faces, situations and fast flashbacks, I looked into my own life and found myself bewildered, not sure if I should smile, nod or weep. The shuffle queerly knew my mood and decided to force me to listen to the songs I despise the most for some reasons I am too lazy to bring up. Self's forecast is expecting a huge storm of memories and floods of disastrous events. I am supposed to confront it and that is where suddenly I realized that the things that keep you going at times are the same things that will tear you up and watch you fall apart.

The night sent its warmth into her wounded soul, twisted mind and  over her sapless body that all her scars bled open- where the cold breeze raced with the moon's flames; Both too wildly furious.  Yet,   her scars won't let them  into her wounded soul, twisted mind or over her sapless body, because, They are too loud, even louder Than her inner voices, When all she needs is Peace of mind.