Faces

Faces... my god how beautiful and magnificent faces can be.
Millions of faces, not one looks like the other, each face carries a story a past present and future, a million chapters... a million moments came across and left there mark on that skin and complexion.
A face carries time.
A face is history.
It is a crystal ball from which u can read the future.
A face, my god its a bless, its the gate to ones world... i want to know someone i shall look at his face directly into his eyes, and stay there for as long as possible.. its amazing what u will find hidden inside... but only if u look long enough... if u just look long enough, u could win the hearts of a nation!

Strongest kick.

Ali. the new member in our family. Ali and i had the most wonderful conversation today. Ali is 2 and a half months old. he likes snoopy. so do i. so does his mother. so did my late dearest lovely aunt Mona. i should mention that Alis mom is also called Mona... if i ever have a daughter i will call her Mona, that is one thing i know for sure. i told him that i was ready to trade my snoopy 7asala with his snoopy pyjamas, and i think he liked the deal. i inherited the snoopy 7asala from my late aunt Mona. she died young. she was beautiful and smart. she had kidney failure. she was very young when it was first diagnosed. i guess she was still in high school preparing for college. she married Luigi an Italian man, with a big belly, huge mustache and a kind heart. he loved her, she did too. they never had children. Mona was the youngest, and she was my favourite aunt. i'd always feel so happy whenever mom tells me u remind me so much of Mona, or when grandma would call me Mona by mistake.
i hope Ali and i would grow to be good friends. i think he would be a gr8 football player coz he keeps on kicking all the time... u never know maybe he'd end up to be on of the greatest swimmers, something like Micheal Phelps but the Egyptian version of him, the swimmer with the strongest kick ever!

The cycle of injustice just wont stop.

This is something i heard years ago in the very first entefada, on "El manar channel", i recorded it and stared writing it down on paper...

it feels bad bringing it out again, and actually typing it down using as for it really goes all so fine with the current events... no difference the same shit on and on...

it really caught my heart the very first time i heard it, it still does... it goes like follows...
________________________________

"For those who believe in humanity... for those who believe in liberty and those that still have some sanity!

Its a message of truth from starting point till infinity... an innocent child is calling, yes he is calling.. cries of agony!

The world still watching, strangers raped his land, destroyed his home soil and sand, burnt his house along with the green so flowers cant grow.

In the land of Palestine a child is calling, yes he is calling... Cries of agony!

Where as we will never surrender, revolution of truth is our aim.
The stone that i throw holds my name...

For this dear Palestine you'll be free from all this shame, this evil filth that occupies my sacred land has come to an end, look how frightened they are!!!
Just look how frightened they are! and how we are filled with rage...
Imagine what they fear.
What they fear is the truth.. the heart.. the soul that we hold.

Dear Palestine your roses will grow again...
Al Quds is ours!
Its soil has spoke, yes, the soil has spoken the words of God above - it will be free for the time has come...

Behold my innocent child.. the stone that holds my name heard you cry!"

Awakening

Laying in bed sleepless... the window is wide open.. the air is so cool.. the silence is so strong that somehow its deafening.

Its a full moon tonight, a silver spell splashed into the room filling it with magic and charm..., bed.. floor.. and walls they've all been blessed by the silver touch of grace.

The wind is strong, i can hear it finding its way to my big old berry tree, caressing her leaves so softly... giving her voice, allowing her to speak... Its amazing how her first words sound so much like the sea, you cant really tell the difference... :)

Colors in the sky vary with every tick the clock makes... pitch black.. Navy blue.. dark bluish purple.. greyish purple.. light blue... Blue.

Laying there a small tweet is heard coming from an awakening bird out there in the vast space... announcing the uninvited break of dawn.
i haven't had my sleep yet, but what can i do, the clock will never stop ticking, the world will never stop spining, neither should i stop living.
Life goes on...
its a new day, a new chance, a new clean start...

That fact alone, would now allow me the sleep i've been striving for the whole night... i close my eyes, surrender and let myself sink away...

The yellow house.

Theres a knock on my bedroom door.. its my uncle.."Rana, u forgot to lock the door again..".

that sense in the air, the sense that u are always threatened, always trying to lock doors behind you, always alert and aware, always wide pupiled...

That act of locking doors, at that particular moment, represented locking life out...

The yellow house. once was a house full of life and passion, but as souls pass away they suck along the life out of the old walls...

Breathing is not enough proof that you are alive, it does not mean that ur soul is setteled peacefully in ur flesh between ur ribs in ur mind and heart...

A body with no soul, is corpse. And corpse are nothing more than just remains.

It was here... my first embrace :)

when a place allows you to open your heart.. drop it all there knowing it is safe and sound.. unjudged, then it shouldn't be treated as some empty space, it should be appreciated, because a connection has been born and Connection = obligation, Obligation = loyalty, Loyalty= i like you just the way you are!

i liked "wordpress", so fancy and all... but i first set foot here... its hard to leave now, it feels like the right thing to do, when all my friends are switching to the fancy good looking "wordpress"...

wal salam khairo khitam.

The same surface

Yesterday i saw my reflection on shady abdelsalam's mirror, a red rope kept me away but yet it felt like i was so close, i gave my self the time and freedom to stand there and gaze at myself, and for a moment i got the feeling that it was no longer me looking at myself, it was someone else. the fact that i was looking at/ into/ through shady abdelsalam's mirror hit me, the fact that the same mirror reflecting my face now had reflected his too... at that very private split second moment his phantom met mine in that small mirror surrounded with the delicate beautiful frame!