The Caller: Psycho

A slight brush of mania

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 13:00:53 GMT

It has always been said, that artists of all types are slightly queer...a little bit mad.

I don't think that it's about being crazy...I mean, artists do see things differently. they are with deeper views of the universe and their own world.

It is having a special vision that makes them care less about what ordinary people strive to attain. and care more about matters that seem trivial or of no sense to the majority.

I've been around artists all my life. Musicians, writers and painters. non was ordinary in comparison with the everyday corporate employee who thinks and lives a routine of repetitive incidents.

Artists have mood swings, Impulsive enthusiasms and sudden depressions.

What I've noticed as well is that no matter what kind of artist or how good you are...If you have a special talent you tend to think, act and feel things differently.

Some are so private...as if their own minds hold a universe that revolves exclusively and people, life and society become more of a visualized manifestation of how silly the world is.

Some are exchanging universal knowledge and they would let their thoughts and art out...expressive they are...loud and articulate.

I believe that every human being has some kind of talent inside of him...either hidden somewhere or crystal clear...either acknowledged by the talented himself or left to rust and decay by his own hands willingly or by others' influence.

It takes spirit and inner clarity for people to courageously allow themselves to interact with the talent seeded in them.

Just like it takes some kind of superiority to allow art to flow from you...to accept speciality and it's very own brush of mania.

Many artists and scientists were called mad...check out this article: Mad/ Genius

My favorite example ( because i love his poems ) is Edgar Allan Poe and he said:

"Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence -- whether much that is glorious -- whether all that is profound -- does not spring from disease of thought -- from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect"

Your hands are small...I don't trust you!

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 11:32:00 GMT

I've always cared about the hands, size of the palms and how long/ slim are the fingers.

Regardless of the fact that i find a man with white, slim, very soft, extra small hands NOT attractive at all...I noticed some time ago that men with such hands are never easy to deal with...hard to trust as friends...hard to depend on...and such!

It struck me today as I was rewinding last night's events (I do that all the time) that i have stated such silliness out loud and clear to a friend of mine...

I suddenly remembered how I - years ago - found Lombroso's theory: that criminals could be distinguished by physical appearances therefore such tendencies could be heritage- just bull!

The man even defined criminals (quantity research) based on the shape of the nose...high cheek bones and small eyes. so, according to him, walking down the street and seeing a man with such features means that he is either a criminal or is going to be a criminal!!

And I think that that is arrogant and degrading...and a major waste of time for anyone who attempts to find that worth studying.

Just like I thought that while studying philosophy as a curricular subject in high school and going through a number of false theories...proven false...historically proven false and illogical, is just a waste of time and energy as I thought that knowing them just for reference and stressing on the most probable theory (no theory could be called definite) is more than enough.

Apparently, humans by nature do form types of mindsets and opinions and prejudgments based on life events and their own experiences no matter how valuable or trivial those opinions are...and apparently - and unconsciously - I too, could fall into the same trap when i didn't allow myself to weigh such an impression that proves nothing but mere silliness.

I also wonder if that was the seed of racism...to have an assumption, an opinion, a feeling toward someone just for having a different type of anything that you don't have or like
( skin color, hair, height, weight...etc)

I've always thought I was aware of such subjects , specially that i make sure my kids never think less or more about any physical appearance, different religion, mind sets, culture...etc, as I believe those values should be taught at very young age especially school age where kids do learn how to be bullies, how to bullied at and how to handle a variety of social interactions.

Even values need recharging...principles need refreshing.

and I will - e7em - start to look at men with small hands as trustworthy people until proven otherwise....just like everybody else.

Won't be able to find them attractive though...sorry!

Strange enough, I was going to wrap that post up with that last sentence when it hit me...I - also - always found that having a certain style in your mind as a preset image of who you are most likely to find attractive or who can be a lover is weired...ain't love about a person: mind, heart and attraction?! not black and white...tall or short...fat or thin?!

If I'm wrong and people should just draw a picture and keep searching for it...if what rocks my boat has that "much" to do with what they look like, then no wonder i don't find men with slim hands not trustworthy...assumptions!!!

Now that i think about it... assuming that a blond man - I don't like blonds very much - would never be a good man for me would make me push a potential amazing man just because he doesn't seem like what i always thought would be appealing...while life, has always held little great surprises to people with open minds and hearts...

That goes with every other type of assumption...about professions, friends, cultures, countries...the list could go on forever...

hmmmmmm!!!

The warm up!

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 10:56:00 GMT

A very busy day

lots of work...love to meet a dead line.

missed a very important personal/ educative meeting

lots of work

Had a warm time with a sweet friend

I - surprisingly - asked the waiter to warm up the cold - supposed to be hot - drink!

some more warmth and understanding

"Declined" an offer to buy plastic bags from a very very polite sheikh in the street!!!

was embarrassed

Had a hug i really needed :)

Home...

Mom...nice!!!

weekend arrangements on the phone...couldn't talk much which is weired

unnecessarily justified myself

half stories...wanted to talk much...which is also weired

cold and cruel

Disappointed.

and about Obama, I keep asking myself why the heck should i care?!! fact is, wala balash!

No sleep...

what's new?!!!

Today...

Swinging a mood back!

Sat, 01 Nov 2008 11:35:00 GMT

I know that women around the world have been trying to excuse themselves from the whole mood swinging issue ( aka PMSing ) and have been trying to deliver a message for tolerance and understanding.

But, I don't believe lots of people have any idea how it feels and maybe that's why they doubt the whole issue or neglect it just because they think that: Women need no more reasons to be crazy!

Well, truth is, It is a very annoying feeling to find yourself suddenly very tense and irritated...sad or angry...crack into tears or loose your temper without a real reason and worst of all, it is very hard to control.

In my case, the most difficult is to have an irritating thought - out of no where - accompanied by anxiety and temper without a serious reason...the feeling itself is so overwhelming that I wouldn't normally realize it's a mood swing unless I'm around someone whom i should be very careful with...a business partner or a new friend...but if I'm among close friends, they would tolerate me without having to explain yet explaining won't be embarrassing.

Usually accompanied by pain, headaches that won't cure no matter how many Panadol Extras I've indulged...20% lose of concentration & 50% lose of both energy and voice ( singing wise ).

Now, What I've been trying to master lately is the skill that would swing the mood back to normal...rather than running away when I'm hit by just a silly mood...I want to be able to defer it...so far, no big success.

Yet, I'll keep trying till i get it.

My weapons will be, great maneuvering skills ( aha, I am a great driver :D ) and lots of chocolate.

Who knows, maybe the next Global break through would concern the well being of women and their surroundings :)

and people, have a heart will you!!

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.