The Cairene

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.

Dear Egypt,  I am so fed up and done with you. I forced myself to taste all your bittersweet hope, but I don't think I can swallow it for any longer. I don't even have enough energy to mention your flaws or traits; you are exhausting-both physically and mentally. Your oxygen is toxic and your air is the rope around my neck. Don't try to prove me wrong, you have buried a lot below your land and that's why I might be generous enough to consider you sacred. I can't blame it all on you, but there is no one else to blame. They died for you and all you offered was a sink for their blood and a graveyard for their wounded bodies. I shouldn't be putting lots of effort to even write about you, it is all pointless. It is even more pointless because I have no idea why I love you. You are confusing me because we aren't asking for too much and instead, you take more than you need. You don't need hungry or cold or bruised souls. It doesn't matter if they are dead ...

Wondering about the connection between winter and the memory lane, I had no justification for it except that the freezing weather and long nights leave us sleepless for long enough. We end up drowning in the floods of memories till we reach the rock bottom of nostalgia. As for me, my memory path is too blurry and lacks details and that's how I find myself missing the ones I have never met, feeling nostalgic to places I have never been to and humming perfectly to music I have never heard before. The worlds I made up is what make me feel warm; all alone, under the cover, I let my eyelids come down and start watching the universes beneath my skin.

بعد تطوّر الاحداث في كلية هندسة القاهرة قررت اني هاحكي كل حاجة بالتفاصيل لتوضيح الامر تماما. منذ بداية العام الدراسي و دايما كان بيكون فيه مظاهرات صغيرة عددها 100تقريبا (لم اتقن العد) داخل الجامعة تهتف ضد حكم العسكر و مؤيدة لرابعة. ماكنش بيكون فيه اي مشاكل و لا اشتباكات داخل هندسة مع العلم ان كان فيه ايام بيكون فيه برّة عند مسلّة جامعة القاهرة اشتباكات بس كانت مش بتدوم طويلا. يوم الخميس 28 نوفمبر, كان فيه وقفة كبيرة برّة عند جامعة القاهرة و كان الطلبة اللي عاملين مسيرة جوة هندسة واقفيت عند الباب الرئيسي لكلية هندسة الذي اُغلق امامهم لمنعهم من الخروج عند المسيرة الاكبر و ربما اغلقه الامن الجامعي لسلامة الطلاب لشدة الاشتباكات في الخارج. الطلبة ظلّوا يريدون فتح الباب و الخروج مع العلم ان الباب الخلفي عند مبني اعدادي كان ايضا مغلقا لموقعه جانب كمين الداخلية و دبابات الجيش المحيطة بالجامعة. تك القاء اول قنبلة غاز داخل كلية هندسة و اصدمت بمدني الادارة الموجود امام الباب الرئيسي تماما و تم القاء القنبلة الثانية و تطايرت بعيدا تماما عن مكان الطلبة المتجمعين عند الباب الرئيسي لتستقر امام...

You wanted to be nice to everyone. You only never let them down and be there. You wanted them in your life, you did your best for them to take their seats inside your universe even if it meant that their weight will stop you from floating. But you saved their place and lifted them, hefty, over your shoulders and chest. You didn’t expect much, just a little even if it would never be enough, yet you kept holding their thrones, all above yours. You ignored your ego alerts and dignity’s fatigue. You muted your inner voices of “People always leave” and you stayed around. And now, you are sinking down inside the soft sands and muddy puddles and stormy seas; no life jackets can save you. You are feebly powerless to even save yourself, and you know it so well, it’s them and only them who can actually save you. It’s a reverse theory as only their weights can save you when weights should normally magnetize you down. But they don’t want to be your royal family, not anymore. You give up on yo...

Egyptians do really need a reminder  to help them flash back to Egypt before January's revolution, right away after the revoluion and Egypt today.  Pushing aside the political battles and cunning crawls to reach the presidency chair, we need to zoom our lenses on the prevailing state of Egyptians' status to the government and police. Thus, I decided to write this letter to everyone who's taking their eyes off the turmoil happening here, to every person who sleep off their guilty conscience using the cheap excuse of "terrorism". Dear Sir/Ma'am, As a start, I am asking you to get back to your archive and search for the name "Khaled Saeed". Exactly, that guy who was brutally beaten to death by some police officer because he uploaded a video which detains their over the internet. That strong man, he was the spark, the candle and the flame for every single Egyptian. He moved everyone and stung the freedom-soft-spot inside every Egyptian citizen. He...

I watched my mother as she approached to hand me the cup of dark coffee, I watched her face’s reflection inside the cup, I watched her eyes getting narrower and her wrinkles digging up bolder and her collar bones popping out to more visible.  I looked up at her and thanked her. She smiled at me and I saw the gap of her lost teeth. Her smile was genuine. I kept trying to remember any good deed I have done throughout my life for God to grant me that amazing person. I didn’t find any. I looked at my coffee and saw my face growing old. I watched my eyes getting narrower and my wrinkles digging up bolder and my collar bones popping out to be more visible. I looked up again and she was gone. I smiled to my reflection and saw my face marks and tried to read them. It was blurry, I couldn't. I took a sip of coffee; it was still warm.

When I grow up, I want to open a school where I teach the students how to deal with life. How to love themselves and others in return, how to get over losing someone and how to deal with a special person's death. I want the students to know how to accept their flaws, know their mistakes, apologize and admit when they are wrong. I want to let them know when hang onto something and when to let go of it, when to give up(yes, sometimes it is a choice) and when to keep going. I want the students to practice art and music, maybe knitting and cooking too. It should be a place where what is inside its fenced borders is as exactly the same as what is beyond the borderlines. I don't know why everyone focus on the typical routine of "education" that it reach the point where some weak students commit suicides because of a tough exam. Back in high and middle school, I studied English, Arabic, History, Physics, Biology and the rest of the science courses. I studied music and art,...

It’s 7 am and I have been awake since last night. My thoughts are wandering about every edge and sidewalk of my brain. The walk isn't so good for my thoughts because you are there in every corner; a crack my thoughts stumble upon every once in a short while. There is no way I can fix those cracks and it sucks.  It’s 7 am and I have been awake since last night. I am not supposed to be thinking about you at all. I have made accords with my other self that I am so over you, but tonight the agreement was rescinded and now the wars inside my mind have begun. The dead buried unhealthy thoughts are brought back to life, the long gone forgotten sadness are put on and I am falling. It’s not a safe place anymore. It’s 7 am and I have been awake since last night. I have been remembering you and I hate it as much as I really like you. Severally, I abhor you and dislike the fact that I have once liked you and now,  I want you  I don’t know. I don’t want to be yours, I do...

"I love you", my lips whispered to the breeze. I don’t know who I am talking to or who should I be saying those three words to. It doesn’t matter. Words no longer know their way through me as much as I know mine through their maze.  I like to write. I like the fact that I am writing now. I am not sure what I am writing, but it is art. I consider it one because right now, I am painting my brain and adding the last glimpses of confusion on my painting through kicking it all out in this pointless piece. "I love you". These there words again. I don’t know who I am talking to or who should I be saying those three words to. I have no clue. The last time someone said these words to me was today. A close friend of mine said them to me, and they had no a single effect on me. I didn’t even blink. It is weird. "I love you", "Bahebak/ek", "Seni seviyorum", "Je t’aime", "Te amo"..In all the languages, it was proven scienti...

Before you go and hurt someone,  know you’ll be hurting yourself  all along. Before you go and hurt someone,  Please think again, and d on’t. You don’t know what they are going through, and what your harsh words might do. I am not asking you to care, just- don’t get there.  So before you go and hurt someone,  try to find an excuse for their mistakes, and forgive. I’ll leave forgetting to you anyway. Before you go and hurt someone,  Remember how you hate being judged, as well as being mocked or called by names. Remember that life is not so fair, I know,  but I also know that it’s still pretty fair- enough to hurt  you as bad.  Before you go and hurt someone,  Don’t think of Karma. We don’t care. Think of yourself or feeling bad about it. And know that it could really get to others, So please, stop yourself and don’t go anywhere. I hurt someone before, and I hurt myself.  I wish I re...

I curled up in my mother's womb for 9 months, alone. I used to be scared of the dark during my childhood, alone. I taught myself how to make friends and failed, So I remained alone. I taught myself, as a kid, how to wear socks, alone. I taught myself how to knot the lace, alone. I walked from and to school, alone. I grew up, I learnt, I fell, I hurt and got hurt, alone. I failed, tried, failed again then succeeded, alone. I read myself to sleep, I cried myself to sleep, Alone. I have a lovely big family, but I preferred to remain as I was brought, To this busy cruel world,                                                                          Alone. I fought my demons and befriended my angels, alone. I learnt how to make friends, the right way I loved,...

Right now, I am sitting by the shore, with the warming sunrays falling all over my swollen skin and charging It with protons of positive energy. I won’t ask for an umbrella, I will let it penetrate me; I need it. The waves’ sound softly hit my ear drums and I loved their melody, accompanied with the laughs and giggles coming from  the people around me. They are happy, I can tell it from their faces. They are happy, but let’s not generalize because we never know. I watch the splashing waves and get involved with their beats inside my ears. It feels good. I am actually amused because I suddenly have found the answer; it’s nature. All the family members are reuniting together, happily, to have fun and a good swim in the salty water. It doesn't matter how salty the water is because all the talks are sweet and filled with love, warmth and unity. It’s the nature, locking up all the chains and bonds of families, relatives and friends.  I look around again, searching for someone on...

Today, I was chatting with a friend of mine when I had to look down at the keyboard searching for a number. I don’t usually need to search around for letters but today I did and that’s not the case. I noticed my wrist, hands, not so thin but long fingers and my fair soft skin covering my flesh. I gazed at my veins stream, which are probably not popped out enough for me to recognized them, and then the image of my Grandma’s (May her pure soul rest in peace) hands vividly stroke my mind. I remembered how veiny and shaky her hands were. They were all full of light brown spots and ageing freckles.  It amuses me how things change with no remarkable transition stage. I am almost 19 and I didn’t know the back of my hands so well, and I probably can’t remember how it looked like when I was six. I never noticed although I wish I had. It’s amusing how skin can scan the age in such a divine way. I know I am just talking about the skin of the hands now, let away the face, its marks, wrinkles...