The Cairene

I am sick of this world. I am sick of repetition of events. I am sick of the repetition of the reactions to the repetitive events. I am sick of how things have become. I am sick of the Arab leaders' selfishness. I am sick of the world's cruelness. I am sick of my helplessness. I am sick of the graphic images that get nothing but numbers of shares and re-tweets and likes and nonsense. All what you see is beautifully, heart-wrenchingly and heartrendingly written (sick) posts and it goes on and on. You see, something sick happens, we whine behind our screens for days, then the days pass and we are put on repeat. Such as sick cycle. I am sick of the UN and its pointless meetings and resolutions. It's not about donations. It's not about hoping and wishing and condemning and deploring and rejecting; it's sick, ridiculously sick. It sucks. I am sick of the Arab Spring that brought nothing but storms. I am sick of distance, borders and checkpoints. I am sick of my country....

He knew her. He knew her secrets, and every single lie and mistake in her life. He knew her flaws, all her insecurities and how she was perfectly imperfect. He knew her fears of heights and her love for hiking. He knew her pain and all its reasons. He knew her scars and all the stories behind each, in details. He knew her mind, her inner voices and heart stitches. He knew the places of her scar-less wounds, inch by inch. He knew her current bruises and the ones which faded away. He knew every hickey she had from random guys before him, and he gave her more. He knew her very special birthmark on her lower part of her chest; he blew her many kisses over it before. He knew the heat of her body, with all of its temperatures and levels. He knew when she felt breathless before she could even feel her chest pains. He knew when she was going to cry before the tears even reached her eyes. He knew her favorite songs by The XX and The Fray, and the chorus she loved the most. He repeated ...

As much as I am sure I would never tolerate living in slums, I find life there so beautiful. In its simplicity and roughness, I find my mind in contradiction. The houses are all unfinished, made of red bricks and usually with no roofs. I wouldn’t refer to them as shelters; they don’t look like they are. Their walls are full of cracks and their roofs are full of gaps which are usually closed by some unwanted pieces of things that I couldn’t even recognize; most importantly, the gaps are slightly closed, enough to not let the rain water dive in although I am sure the cold air manages to get to the reckless people living below. I am amazed by how the people find “home” behind those cracked walls. Crossed by the clothes hanged on ropes and realizing the repetitive technique that every house uses to hang their clothes, you’d be left with a smile on your face. The larger cloth is usually hanged at the last rope, and the size gets smaller as you reach the first rope where you find tiny ...

Not acknowledging the last time she ever felt happy or how does it feel like anymore ; she let her sadness enfold her reckless soul. Her inner monsters and demons decided to sit in and curb her thoughts that she has lost control over a while ago, cracking up her self-confidence and building up mountains of insecurity inside her where she held the whole world over her shoulders. Restless and reckless she takes her bitter breath hoping that she would stop breathing soon to get rid of all the reality’s gloom. Little did she know that it never gets better or the way we wish to does as she had a weak dim flame of hope that kept fading away with every disappointment she faces.  Storms of unhealthy thoughts and melancholic emotions roamed inside her awakening her monsters as they started eating her inside up till she became empty and unwanted. Nobody accepted her the way she is, nobody wanted her nor noticed her existence which has already started questioning herself about; it...

We don’t control our feelings toward anyone. We just can’t undo feeling something. We get stuck in wanting something which we probably can’t have. She knows about that and maybe more, but she just can not cope or relax. It haunts her thoughts and forces her to shed tears. It bothers her how she’s clinging but with that part inside her begging her to let go. She can’t have them, yet she can’t escape them. She have to stop loving those who don’t notice her, yet she can’t stop nor hate. It freezes her mind and blow away her confidence. It built up walls of indescribable feelings inside her. Those walls of burdens are full of holes of uncertainty which she’s afraid if they fell, they would grab her down. She doesn't want her bad decisions to lead her to her downfall, but it’s not in her hands. She isn't controlling herself anymore. She’s always gone unnoticed. Maybe it helps her to give up on trying, but it doesn't help when it comes to self love....

I don’t what I want to say or how I am going to start this. Let’s agree that I will just let my fingers touch the Keyboard and the bullshit will come out eventually. *SPOILER*: I am going to just rant. If you aren't allergic to bullshit, keep reading. If you are allergic to bullshit, keep fucking reading! Falling for someone is stupid. Needing someone is awful. This ain't working but i am just expressing how I have realised that there is no such a thing called getting over someone or forgetting about them. We don’t simply forget about someone who once moved us. Some people will always own that corner of you brain no matter how fast they ran or how bad they hurt you.  It doesn't have to be about love and relationships, it’s just about human beings and their power to ruin each other.  Maybe you don’t keep wanting that person in your life, but there will be time when they start fucking up your mind and their small corner in your brain w...

Some spend thousands on watches, maybe to give the prestige and maybe to really use it. I don’t use watches for this, and I don’t even wear one.  I don’t believe in time. Yes of course exams will have time limit and I have to organize myself, but I do this by heart. They say time fly, but not really. I would make a bond with time and it decides to stay at the end. I am sure you don’t get a word of what I have said above, so let me start again. How were clocks invented? The sunset, and the sunrise? The earth revolves around the sun at constant speed and some sciences materials which I don’t really know accurately. Let me start again. I mean, I wake up by sunrise and I know it is morning. When the sun decides to leave (or the point I live at decides to give its back to the sun), night starts. I start to feel that and sense that. I feel the day is ending when I run out of energy in summer. I feel the day ending when I am sleepy in winter. Let away insomnia)....