Are we okay?

Man, has it been quite an eventful period of time that we have been living. Tragic for some, victorious for others and strikingly perplexing for most. Turbulent indeed, and not very easy to witness. No matter how difficult those past two (and a significant fraction) years in Egypt have been, they have indeed changed a lot in us. The unprecedented whirlpool of events we have been witnessing have taken us onto a ride that resulted in nothing short of a significant alteration in most - if not all - aspects of our lives, both as a now-arguably unified nation as well as the individuality of our beings.

This is not a piece that attempts to intrigue your nostalgic feelings with a recollection of the events that have happened. Nor is it a trial to explain or analyze the interchangeable political scene in Egypt. It is merely a piece of reflection on a fraction of what we are currently witnessing on a daily basis. That is why, before you continue reading (for those very lucky few who might happen to stumble upon this, that is), I believe it vital that you know that the following text stands a very good chance at being heavily opinionated, and is in fact based on the rather shallow observation of the writer, being myself. It is also important to know that any negative inclination that may (or may not) be projected is not (entirely) intended.


Now, you might by now think that the latter was quite absurd, since this is a personal blog at its core; so why bother with claiming subjectivity? Well, here is why: As we delve into the mishaps of the daily happenings of our lives, that have naturally become severely intertwined with the political landscape - with all its social attributions, of course - each of us has transformed from being a rather idle bench-warmer, to an opinionated individual, adapting to the ever-changing political groups, each with its ideological package, as they have changed to be of a rather polarized nature, especially after the very recent events. This, of course, is completely fine. Everyone is entitled his or her own opinion, with absolute liberty to side with whomever they think is fair. However, it is true that this polarization in the nation (rhyme totally intended) has proved incredibly effective in cascading a rather hostile living environment, even more than what we are used to. Well, naturally.

And that, I believe is the key phrase: we are not used to - basically everything that has been happening. Nothing makes sense to us, Egyptians, so what do we do? We do what we do best, which are: A) we follow our instincts (because, hey, we did not get our share of proper education, so what else can we rely on?); and B) we glue ourselves in front of our TV sets. Why? Because we do not know how to act, how to form well-informed opinions and we definitely do not know how to have a broad perspective on things, i.e., we do not know how to be objective, so we let the arguably good-looking and articulate people on TV do it for us. Hence, while 'fair is fair' might be a valid rational mindset that a lot of people follow, for us, Egyptians, fair is never fair. Fair is only fair only when it proves to be in absolute coherence with our personal ideologies and perceptions.

Where am I going with this? Right...


A lot of people were very hopeful that the very recent radical change in the political scene would bring about the stability that we have been yearning for the past 2 years and would lay out a more fertile atmosphere for the promised "development" to take place. I would argue that this very recent move was not well calculated, which is also obvious to many, thus seized by the "defeated" as a sign that an evil, evil conspiracy is upon us (which could be plausible since no one really gets what is happening). And so this miscalculation left us in the hands of the "wise ones". All we had to do then was to cross our fingers in hopes that the wise ones would be wise enough.


But then, the wise ones turned out to be not-so-wise. The alteration of most, if not all, media channels (both national and privately-owned; but mostly the latter) was nothing short of astounding. While I personally believe the wisest strategy at the time was to try and win all the supporters of the defeated over, the act of demonizing the enemy drifted to a mass generalization and labeling campaign, which was naturally counter-effective (ask a toddler, he/she will be able to figure it out). But well, who cares, right? It's us against them. They're Hilter and his army (as compared in a "documentary" aired by a private channel without naming names [ON TV]).

They're the Traitors and we are the Nationalists. (Oops, sorry; Freudian slip-- I meant patriots.)


So as the good vs. evil battle continues, the divided masses are left with too much on their plates to realize that there is no good and evil, there is evil and slightly less evil. Or to be more accurate, an evil dumbass and a wise-ass.


And this was one of the reasons why I do not believe we are going anywhere. Propaganda, a seeping flow of Nationalism (yet again), mindless and uneducated masses, and well, let's not forget: TERRORISM and of course, THE COLOR YELLOW (sarcasm not intended). We are going to be fairly okay though, that is for sure; mostly in terms of stability, that is. But other than that, I personally cannot foresee the time when Egypt would have the kind of wise leadership that would take us forward and actually creatively invest in the human resources that we possess; which I believe is the only way for us to develop.


As a final remark, I would like to state that I did not know where this was going half-way through, and thus, I have to clarify that I do not side with a certain party over the other (well, that's a lie-- I hate yellow) and that the bashing was unintended (blame my grandma and her "nationalistic" speeches that I have to endure for that).

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go give myself a pat on the back for abstaining from mentioning any group or person in particular (so subtle, right?) and I'll leave you to carry on with either your fight against terrorism or with your newly-found love for the number 4 and the color yellow.

Human

I am human. I have the body of a human. A face of a human. A brain of human and a soul of a human. I do most of the things that humans do. They are nothing special, but I do not mind them. It is part of being human; you do things. Some things you will like, some thing you will not. But it is okay. You just keep doing things. 

Some people like me, some people do not, but most people do not know me. But it's fine, really. It does not matter. It sometimes does though. It is part of being human, you want to be accepted. You want to be liked. It is like a loop of magnets where humans repel and attract in a synchronized energy field. Or like a puzzle really. I don't know.


I sometimes feel happy about the things I do. And sometimes feel bad too. But most of the time I feel neutral about things, because a lot of these things do not matter to me, but I try to believe that they do because I do not know what matters to me. Apart from the obvious things, of course. Like my family, for instance. It does matter to me because I like it. I like the people in it. I like being with them and I want to be for as a long as I can. Some other things matter too. Like the food I like because I enjoy eating it. But not like its absence would affect my state of being. Having it is pretty nice though. 

I get hungry because I am human. I eat in the mornings, but nowadays I mostly do not. I like to wait for lunch, but I do not like how I eat too much because I am hungry then feel uncomfortable afterward. But I do not mind it very much. It's part of being human. I also get urges to take short trips from my room to the kitchen then the fridge, mostly in the evening when I have digested my lunch. I spend a lot of time in my room. Most of the time I do not find anything that I would feel like eating, but it doesn't irritate me that much. I used to like ordering out, but now I do not because it makes me feel like a worn-out rug after I eat the food. But I like it because it makes my brain slow down for a brief period of time. 

I like my brain. I sometimes hate it because it gives me a hard time often, but I still like it. Some people say that I am smart, but it's just my brain, really. I sometimes fear getting judged by other people, but that is only one of the problems I have that my brain gives me a hard time over. I get obsessed with self-perception too at times, although I should not. But it's okay.

Like how some people say that I look like a psychopath maybe. I understand that because I keep a straight face most of the time so people do not usually know what I am thinking or feeling. I also do not talk much. I do like to talk, though. But I don't because it is one of the things that my brain gives me a hard time over too. Like how I should say things in the right time and say others at different times. I do not like that. I like saying stupid things at any time I want. Because it should not matter, really. 

I sometimes think about the future of my life -- it occupies most of the capacity of my brain, actually. I do not know what is going to happen in it, but I am not concerned. I sometimes think of how I am going to die too. Like, maybe I am going to get murdered because I will run a lot of companies and will have a lot of enemies. Or maybe I will get a terminal disease in the next few months or years that will cause me to die. Or maybe I will live a long life and have a normal death, among people or completely alone. But I am not scared of it. It is fine because I know it is going to happen eventually. 

Some people think I am strange because I do not cry when people die. I do not understand why that it necessary because I like to get over bad things quickly. But I understand that because people feel comfortable when they can identify with the people around them; so if they cry when people die, I should do too. 

I sometimes like making jokes when I am with people. I like it when people laugh at them, not because it makes them happy, but because it makes me feel good about myself sometimes. I like to work too and I think I am good at it because I have done it a lot. But I do not know if it matters.

I get confused a lot when I think about the problems I have, but I should not because those problems are trivial compared to the problems other people have. I sometimes feel bad when that happens. But I learned that it is really okay. 

I sometimes think about my childhood too. But I do not like to do that because it was a pretty plain childhood, really. It's okay though. I remember that I always wanted a cat when I was a child and then got one when I was a teen. He lived with me for 8 years but then died recently. I still have his daughter though whom I like too although she is pretty annoying. But I like her because I sometimes think that she would be the misfit in a group of cat friends, which I sometimes think I might be too among my friends. 

I sometimes feel like I want to create things. Like this piece of writing I am typing, maybe. But then I do not feel anything when I do, that is why I do not do it much. Some people say expressionism is nice because it is relieving, but I do not feel that. But maybe I am wrong. Maybe I am wrong about many things. I know I am. But I like to admit that I am wrong when I know that I am. I do not understand why people do not like that, though. It is a really nice feeling - admitting that you are wrong, that is. 

Some people say that they have a hard time understanding people. I do not know why though. I think people are very easy to understand. Although there are a lot of people that I do not like, I do not really hate anyone because they haven't caused me any harm. I do not like to cause harm to people either. I like to help people, actually. 

I sometimes wonder if I deserve all the things I have, but I usually think that I do not. But it is okay, I think. 



Some people say that things should have an end, no matter what that thing is, but I cannot find an end for this. There is a lot more that I could say, though.

So I think that this is all. 

Of Nothingness

I want to write. I want to write about things that I understand. I want to write about things that I aspire to understand. I want to write about everything. I want to write about nothing. I want to write about me; and more importantly, about you. I want to write with nothing in mind. I want to write for a lifetime. For a lifetime of significance perished into the nothingness of existence.

It cannot be trivial. It never were. All of this friction, this blockage and this perplexity, swept away as a leaf makes its destined flip, leaving behind scrapes of triviality for a race to dwell upon. Bending, breaking and munching on it. Believing that this is it. That this is the essence of what is, and a delusion of what shall become.

This is the nothingness that you have come to delve into. Those are the things that make you. That make you process, value and believe. Believe in things that may or may not be real. You are a manifestation of all those things; all those things you do not know, and all the things you believe you know. But yes, this striking fragility of a breath is nothing but a mere illusion.

I know you do not quite comprehend what you, yourself are trying to believe. I know you cannot possibly grasp it all. I know you incapability is overwhelming. I know it's a blessing that you are too blind to see.

Your reality is a manifestation of letters. Letters that collide at a stream of intersections, illuminating, imploding into themselves, striving for a momentary state for stillness. Stillness that ambushes its observers, bringing them closer in existence. An existence of transparency. Of brightness and color.

An existence of nothingness.


Of nature, you are devoid. Of a brick, you decompose. Of a thread, you let loose. Of a self, you are unaware. Of stillness and calamity  you wish. But you are staying here. You are staying here in this moment; in this continuum that offers you nothing but abrupt whirls onto a speck of its expansive fields.


You know this is nothing. Or so you hope. 

Disorientation

This place extracts inspiration. The mere look of this blank space is always intimidating. The absurdities of this loop are strikingly disorienting.

 

These short sentences are a witness of change. Change that cannot be put in actual words. Words that carry further complexities yet provide more proof of an obscured being.

 

Obscure. I have always liked this word.

 

It is indeed quite tiresome having a brain that is in constant circular motion trying to piece itself together, with unprecedented dimensions of confusion explored every day.

 

I urged myself to start using short sentences today. I'm trying to piece together patterns of change. This is more confusing than I thought.

 

I don't know what else to type, so in the following line I'm going to share a word that I like:

Detoxification.

 

Well, I thought this might help, but it certainly has not.

"This Might Be An Adventure,"

... they said. But, is it? 

 

Now, I am known (strictly to myself) to be an inexpressive bastard. I have a habit of covering up in unnecessary complexities that leave the unresolved... well, a mile farther from being resolved. Well, I am right here today at this precise minute and this exact clock strike to state one thing, and one thing only, which is;

I am tired of this shit.

All of it.

 

One would ask me what exactly it is that's tiring about shit. Or if one is a snark, he'd state that no one is really glad of the presence of shit in life. And to both, my reply would be the following: Fuck. Off. 

 

Yea... anger management now?

 

I thought I love the professional opportunities thrown at me every other day. I thought they were all blessings that I'd feel guilty if I did not seize them. I often questioned their sudden existence, but disregarded the suspicions and left it in the hands of high power of wisdom. 

But, hey, now I know! They're a curse! Or a mere reminder that all what I thought I believed in is as profound as a Pitbull song. So, here I am, having loads to do, discarding what's left of the depth of my being, failing something that I am not aware of and most of all, not having the least bit of fun in my life. 

 

I am 20 years old. 

The Amazingness of Some Little Things... and Their Siblings

It's amazing how we are. Or how we be. Or how we become. Or how we get to be, or made to be. Or flipping in hula-hoop-ish fashions to be, and right back, without having the slightest clue what a hula-hoop flip is, or why it could be a fashion of being.

It's amazing how it's amazing. Or how we want to regard it as amazing. Or how the mind stretches to find reasons for it to be something else, but settles for amazing. It's amazing how it swirls, dancing in electrifying illumination, sits still, then settles for 'amazing' . And after it's all done, one slight back-swirl holds within the true amazingness of some little amazing things combined. And when you think about those little amazing things, you get introduced to their big amazing siblings on the way, whose nature you're entirely unaware of.

It's amazing how satisfying those little things are, only when they're not. And when they there, complete, but nowhere near fullness. And you'd try to piece them together; try to sight a complete picture that is dysfunctionally gaped. Scrapes from one corner and some from another, dashing them together and fitting it together, when you know it can never fit.

But amazing it is, and amazing it will remain.

Because who ever said amazing is amazing? Amazing it infuriating. Amazing is implicated and inflated. Amazing is so many things with letters swaying and twirling to be that thing that your mind only wishes them to stay intact, only for once.

And once it's all over, there will be room for being.

And further to the edge of your seat you move...