Fools in command

Sun, 04 Jan 2009 00:02:00 GMT

In a four x four room…In a cold lonely night

After babies have slept....And all seem quiet

I turn to a screen, of a pale gray picture

Hoping for a distraction, a laugh…a lame lecture

A song plays old, of faraway pains

Blood and wounds…An image of rage

They tell a story of a kid, a father…a land that once belonged

To a distant meaning of humanity. It had a story of some killings

A thousand scar and a forbidden Surrender to the other side

Any side…any tide, even an end…a closure

They play tunes and sing songs…To tell the story to which it belongs

As if it’s news…a form of legacy, yet, it’s not forgotten…abandoned…but,

It’s painful hearing those words, I know the story…stop those swords

My heart is aching as I lay still in bed Listening to vibes…not moving instead

Those tears are chocking me…I can’t breathe anymore

I can’t move a muscle or walk out that door

I want to shield those people from bullets and fire

I want to fly away to demolish that invasive desire

But, I’ll grab a tissue for now…and wipe away my tears

The chocking won’t relief or shut away my fears

Maybe I need to learn about aiming and shooting

Maybe a song will be written, someday to mourn my land

That day a picture of men I knew will make it to the stands

That day I’ll hold the gun and lend a hand and pay my dues

Like every other person in this land of fools

As fools repeat every sin again, again and again

A closed dumb circle of misery and pain

A blind justice rules and verdicts are all the same

More hurt, more loss, more agony and strain

I am still in bed…holding those tissues

Tearing them into a million tears

I won't handle the lot anymore

I'll throw them in a basket…change the channel

Shut a window….the door and a heart that' sore

Will wait for the words of fools

And fools in command

Although...I know...I'll never understand

Never understand

A corrupted manual

Sun, 26 Oct 2008 22:27:00 GMT

It is not an easy thing to realize consciously that you are not behaving as normal people would do in certain situations and have no power or will to change your behavior into something more socially accepted.

It is easy just to accept the way you feel and the way you ache and just be yourself.

It is not an easy task to stop your mind from thinking in a certain way that you know for sure can trigger more pain and sore feelings.

It is easy to surrender to fatigue, let go, drop your hands weak and give up trying...but for some, that's even a harder task...when it's impossible to drop on your knees, lie down and accept the crawling sensation of fainting just to enforce a necessary shut down.

Earlier this morning right after dawn, and after I received that phone call from my brother telling me in a reluctant voice that our grandmother, My late daddy's mother has passed away, I felt...tired...I felt beat...I cried, not loud ugly cries, not hurtfully, I cried quiet sad tears...a minute it was because I was crying my dad actually, still not over not having his hug...protection...content. another minute I was crying because I'm going to miss her, or because I was terrified of her situation at that moment...but the most overwhelming feeling was that I am tired, exhausted...and the only thing I needed at that moment was for hiding in my daddy's chest, reassured and safe where it was OK for me to feel fragile, weak and scared.

My kindhearted brother was reluctant because he knew I was tired already...I, as I stepped in my grandmother's house, hugged him tight...I knew he felt the same...the same daddy' scenario is replaying bit by bit...even the same faces, the same talk, my aunt calling and crying and screaming for her mother who laid in her room...dead.

The Idea itself is so uncomprehendable...for someone to suddenly NOT exist. Becomes lifeless...all his belongings loose their owner...his place is emptied...his presence becomes a past...his opinion, worth, history are no longer his...they are someone else's to mess them up.

Typical Egyptian Ladies talk too much, reassuring us that heaven is granted...that they were so sad, they had lots of loud sobbing to prove it anyway...and I'm sure most of them really meant it...I was the unnatural one...just kept mumbling to myself: la elah ela allah and asking for mercy to be granted to my grandmother, father and all the dead.

I stayed with my aunt till noon, I couldn't say a word, and actually I couldn't force my self to...didn't want to force myself...or, didn't have the energy nor the will to do anything but what I felt...and I felt tired, sad and numb!

Around noon, I started to feel very sharp cramps in my abs...They became sharper and sharper but I had to take the pain and shut up...

As the doctor and the nurses who were supposed to prepare the deceased for her final trip arrived, I received a phone call from the office asking about me...I realized I'll be messing the whole day for them especially that the keys for the safe, doors and the CEO's office were at my possession.

I had to leave...headed for the office...the cramps became sharper...the CEO felt for me and took me to a nearby hospital where the Doctors in the ER said that it was my nervous system playing the physical game on me...again!

Prescribed me a muscle relaxant...then, I insisted on going to the office...the CEO started the: maysa7esh ya madam Rasha, you have to attend the funeral.

He nagged, I said: Mafeesh 7aga esmaha elmafrood...mesh 7a2dar ashoof daddy's scenario tany...mesh 7a2dar asma3 soot 7ad beysarakh aw bey3ayat...

I'm going to the office!

Went there, I could see them around the office puzzled not knowing how to handle how hyper yet quiet i was...I finished a great amount of work...hiding in my documents...being the Machiavellian that I am, took advantage of my situation and enforced a decision or two on the CEO and got what I wanted...They were in place though...I do have ethics...

Among all the chaos in my head, a nice breeze of kindness or two blew in my way...I am blessed, I know.

And a mean selfish steam or two tried to annoy me...but, nothing could hurt me more than I was already.

The typical manual in relating to similar situations is corrupted in my system.

I don't know if I'm becoming less sensitive or what...but, after my dad, I doubt that anything would come close in effect.

May all people find the peace of mind, heart and spirit.

Amen.

The Caller: Death

Fools in command

A corrupted manual