أنتَ

أُحِب غضبك وسُخطك وبقايا براءتك وبداية نضوجك وصدمتك وخيبة أملَك ,ولكِن لا أحِبُك أنت. 

غفوة

   هاجرت بخيالي لمكانٍ بعيد ولكِن مسافته كانت بأكملها داخل رأسي وكُنت أفكر في أشياء لا أذكُر منها شيء الآن ولكِني سأتذكر تفاصيلها عندما يحِل النوم علي جفوني ويبدأ عقلي يفيق ليلاً ويتركني تائهة. سافرت بعيدا عن واقعي.

    فجأة سمعت صوت إهتز له جسمي و إرتعش له قلبي وتركني، مثل أي شىء يترُكني، خائفة وهو يحملني إلي الواقع. وصَل فكري لمكان وزمان وجود جسدي لأدرك إن الصوت صدر من أبي، الذي أخشي فراقه، عندما وقعت من يدهِ زجاجة فارغة لم تتحطم على الرغم من سقوطها من على ارتفاع كبير. إكتشفت لحظتها إني أندهِش بصورة مبالغ فيها وذلك لأني أستمع بدِقة لكل صوت يهمِس في رأسي وبالتالي يتضخم كل صوت أسمعه خارجها.
   كانت أذناي بدأت في إسترجاع حاستِها السمعية, عندها أنصَت لأبي وهو يقول 'الطيبون للطيبات'.
   لا أعلم . 

Fleeting moment

Hangout, we all look good, smell fine, ordering food, cool beverages, or maybe hot drinks. Side talks, small conversation, fun, laughter, smiles, sharp shrieks, jokes, laughter, loud laughter.. freeze

Who are they? How do I know them? How did I get here? She looks so beautiful, oh my god she looks so pretty. I wonder if he admires her beauty but never tells me? How do I look like now? Is my hair messed up as always? Zoom on his mustache. His mouth is moving, I think he's talking to someone, maybe he's talking to me but I can't listen, I hear him but I can't listen. His mustache is so distracting,  it is disgusting that hair grows out of our skin, I mean what the hell? Disgusting, and there's something between his teeth, he's talking again. I don't wanna talk to him, I don't wanna listen either but I like the way his jaws move. It is so masculine. I think I hate him, I don't exactly know him. Does her beauty prevents her from crying without any obvious reason like I do sometimes? Does she trust people? How does he see me? Oh my god, why is she so ugly, her face is so tall, she looks like a fish. I fucking hate her because she hurt me last year when we were in class. I like his shirt. His shirts are always wrinkled. I think his parents aren't on good terms, it shows. I've never met them though. His mouth is moving again, now I'm sure, he is talking to me. We're all gonna die someday. Why are we laughing? Everything is subtle. Trivial. Irrelevant. And we're dressed up and shit. I don't wanna be here. It's not that I hate them, it's just that I don't know them. At all. I can hear my name again in a bored tone. Seems like it was on repeat.. 

"Yes, yes..what?"

laughter, I feel young. That was so funny. Smiles. I'm actually happy. Side talks. I love them, we're good. Laughter, loud laughter. 

Transient thoughts

Thought

  You are basically just a sperm who made its way to life, a coincidence, a possibility that developed into a human like million others which makes you a complete nothing, a soul that is unintentionally living and will unwillingly die. So you're alone, you're suspended, you're a dust particle in the evil wind and nothing you do will matter, no decision you take will differ. 

Contradictory thought

 You're the center of the universe, everything revolves around you. People are just actors in your life which is a big god-sent test, so either you fail or pass and accordingly enter hell or heaven afterwards. Once you leave the room, people are all going to drop dead, to evaporate, because they don't exist, they're the result of your imagination, they're just a thought. You're alone.

Usual thought
  Why wipe away dust when you know it will accumulate again anyway?

...

أحياناً أقرأ الكُتب لأتكد من وجودي في الدنيا, لأتكد أن الكاتِب مَرّ بنفس الفِكرة التي تمُر في ذِهني وتترُكني أشعُر بالعجز, أو الإنعزال. أحياناً أقرأ في الدين وأنا أترَجَي كلِمات الكِتاب أن تُجيب علي السؤال الذي يشغلُني. أو أتمني أن يوافقني الرأي ويُثبت العالم علي خطأ. أحياناً أقرأ وأُعيد قراءة الجُملة وكل مرة تَعني شيء مُختلف ولكِن شيء يتِرَتب مثالياً علي ما قبله. أحياناً أقرأ الروايات هروباً من الواقِع. أحياناً أقرأ كُتب لأكتشف إنها رديئة المُحتوي ولكِن أعرف أنها ستكون مِحوَر حديث عُشوائي مع غريب في وقتٍ ما. أحياناً أقرأ وأنا أعلم ,حتي لو طويت الصفحة او تَرَكت الكتاب حتي ترسب عليه التُراب, أن الكُتب لا تغير أقوالها.

Best Passages

The Catcher in the Rye  
   by J. D. Salinger.    
 "Nobody'd be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you'd be so much older or anything. It wouldn't be that, exactly. You'd just be different, that's all. You'd have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you'd be different in some way - I can't explain what I mean. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd feel like it."

The Unbearable Lightness of Being  
    by Milan Kundera 
 "But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?
  The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.
  Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.
  What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?
  Parmenides posed this very question in the sixth century before Christ. He saw the world divided into pairs of opposites: light/darkness, fineness/coarseness, warmth/cold, being/non-being. One half of the opposition he called positive (light, fineness, warmth, being), the other negative. We might find this division into positive and negative poles childishly simple except for one difficulty: which one is positive, weight or lightness?
  Paremindes responded: lightness is positive, weight negative.
  Was he correct or not? That is the question. The only certainty is: the lightness/weight opposition is the most mysterious, most ambiguous of all."

Thousand splendid suns  
    by Khaled Hosseini 
 "So much had happened since those childhood days, so much that needed to be said. But that first night the enormity of it all stole the words from her. That night, it was blessing enough to be beside him.It was blessing enough to know he was here, to feel the warmth of him next to her, to lie with him, their heads touching, his right hand laced in her left.
  In the middle of the night, when she woke up thirsty, she found their hands still clamped together, in the white knuckles, anxious way of children clutching balloon strings."

Nineteen eighty-four  
   by George Orwell
 "When you make love you're using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don't give a damn for anything. They can't bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you're happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about the rest of the bloody rot?"

   "It had never before occurred to him that the body of a woman of fifty, blown up to monstrous dimensions by childbearing, then hardened, roughened by work till it was coarse in the grain like an over-ripe turnip, could be beautiful."

   "It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody. And the people under the sky were also very much the same — everywhere, all over the world, hundreds of thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another's existence, held apart by walls of hatred and lies, and yet almost exactly the same — people who had never learned to think but who were storing up in their hearts and bellies and muscles the power that would one day overturn the world."

Lolita  

   by Vladimir Nabokov

"The stars that sparkled, and the cars that parkled, and the bars, and the barmen, were presently taken over by her"

Life of Pi  

   by Yann Martel
 "There is commonly an element of silence and solitude to peace, isn't there? It's hard to imagine being at peace in a busy subway station, isn't it?"