The Cairene

It crossed my mind that one day, I'll grow old, really old, with shaky hands, wrecked skin, grey hair, tired eyes and a face full of wrinkles and stories. The thought itself scared me that I went and look at the mirror and thought to myself: "One day, I'll look at this face again from behind my 80 year old eyes. I'll look at those picture and plead for the things I could have done but didn't, shou ld have said but decided to not to. That's going to be really heartrending". I am still scared of this painful thought.  Then it occurred to me that I might not even be there to watch my nephews, nieces, and -maybe- my kids grow old in front me, and I became more pained.  I grow up everyday, and my face is the proof. I grow up everyday, and my feelings are the reason. I age and age and age, till one day it'll strike me that I have wasted a lot and I will be too reckless to even take myself to the bathroom or have a walk to the market.  It's not just ab

And for an instance, you feel like an idiot for giving them all while they gave you nothing in return; and for another, you feel alright because you know that you were just being you.

We keep needing things in lives and never get them. We keep getting getting other things in live and stop needing them. It makes us humans, but. I have been trying to think of something to write after 'but' and nothing to be jotted down. I think it's the humans' nature of wanting things or losing interest in whatever they own? We wait. We wait for many things, knowing that we are wasting hell of t ime of another things, but we wait. We wait for things we know that's not going to happen and things that we know we will never be getting; so much time wasted, but we still wait. I don't get the point of waiting because to me, the only thing worth waiting is basically a flight out of this place or for angels to take me by the hands. I wait. I'm not quite sure why we aren't so concerned about time even though it's never on our favor, but what? We wait and waste some more time. Yes, I wait for too many unrealistic things and it's not even funny. Lately,

For I have known how hard life is for each and everyone, especially in Egypt where we fight and battle to survive. For I have know how painful it feels to lose someone special. For I have known how stressed we all are, struggling to make a living out of something you might not be even interested in, but you just keep going because there's no other choice. For I have known how dark your soul is fo r being left alone or ignored by your world favourite person. For I have known how life is not being tender and is literally throwing all the loads on your wrecked shoulders. For I have known all the tough things I have mentioned, and all the tougher things I haven't mentioned since I haven't experienced so couldn't acknowledge its harshness, I am quite sure we all deserve to be a bit happy, or at least delighted. You don't have to be overly optimistic, but at least be a realist and don't break your back. It shouldn't be a Friday, a feast or the payment day to feel

We keep needing things in lives and never get them. We keep getting getting other things in live and stop needing them. It makes us humans, but. I have been trying to think of something to write after 'but' and nothing to be jotted down. I think it's the humans' nature of wanting things or losing interest in whatever they own? We wait. We wait for many things, knowing that we are wasting hell of time of another things, but we wait. We wait for things we know that's not going to happen and things that we know we will never be getting; so much time wasted, but we still wait. I don't get the point of waiting because to me, the only thing worth waiting is basically a flight out of this place or for angels to take me by the hands. I wait.  I'm not quite sure why we aren't so concerned about time even though it's never on our favor, but what? We wait and waste some more time. Yes, I wait for too many unrealistic things and it's not even funny. Lately,

It has been too long since I last left my house to listen to people in the street. For more than two months, I wasn’t really interested in listening to anyone, especially after I have been through a lot of personal problems. I wasn’t feeling excited about helping anyone anymore. I usually had unhealthy thoughts ringing in my head and telling me that people don’t really deserve me. I used to tell myself that I can’t even hold my own sh*t together to hold others’. I simply spent most of my time alone, yet, I was still lost. I couldn’t find myself in locking up myself in my room. However, I loved solitary. I loved every moment of it and considered it precious. I searched for myself, but I still couldn’t find me. I can’t deny that I have found a huge part, but there was still a missing piece in my soul’s puzzle. I searched for it everywhere, but nothing. Until, at last, I decided to love out of my bubble. I did. I took the cardboard, left my locked room and roamed around the streets ag

Who created the borders and countries? Why should a passport define me and my ability to move around earth? Why is everyone chasing resources like water, petrol and lands? Why do I have to say that I want to visit a country, not that nature's most beautiful spot? Why is it even hard to discover God's creations? Why are they making it like they have created the land's themselves? Why do I have to wait in long lines in front of an embassy and then get rejected? Why is everyone having wars with everyone for things they didn't even create on their own? Who give you the right to say that this country is a third world country or second or first? Why do us, humans, have to be that absurd and close-minded?  I want to discover every spot on this-almost-dead-planet before its dead. I want to cross every border and set my feet into every inch of this planet. I'd aim to discover space, but I am not that hopeful. I'd have loved to involve world peace in this post, but I

I don't know what's the thing with my generation and how shallow we are getting. I don't know who to blame, but I am surprised how they used to tell me at primary school that I shouldn't colour outside the lines, and guess what now? They want me to think out of the box. I still don't get it and the questions wouldn't let me fall asleep as my cheek touches the pillow.

In this moment, where I am writing this line, the world population count is 7,121,438,075 and it decreases and increases every millisecond of time passing by. I stopped focusing with the number and start thinking that I am one of that count, I am one of the seven billions other people struggling through life. Then I scrolled down and saw the number of deaths and I starting thinking to myself that one day, I will be one of that count as well. I found myself drifting away from all of the numbers and my head took me to self questioning. Who am I? I am one in an ocean of people. I started to think to myself, I am just a person; a tiny flesh compared to everything else, starting from humans and ending at atoms, molecules and every little thing created in wide vacuum. I, as a human, should live for self and others. I am going to admit that I, apparently, happen to not like people so much, but I am still something. I want to cross a line and leave my mark somewhere that I have decide