No Lady.

This happened this evening...M. is a sweet woman, very generous, in her own way, she owns this cafe, her only source of livelihood. She gives it her best.

Here come this dick head, all violent...he insults M. for no reason..M is in her late 50's. You don't insult a woman you assholes, nor do you try to get aggressive with her.

M. is no spring chicken...but I intervened. I told the asshole of a dick...Have some shame you cunt. Harassing, insulting women is no sign of manhood. I said it in Arabic of course. It's more potent that way.

First the asshole calling himself a man was shocked by my "inappropriate" language... I repeated my sentences...to ram it in his greasy stinking head of his...

And yeah the asshole dick, looked suave...he had all the right attire...but I rammed into him like he never existed... He was taken aback...he did not expect that from a "lady", or what looked like a "lady".

Got news for you assholes, am no lady at all....You harass a woman like M. like me, I will give it back to you ten fold...fearlessly so.

More than One....

Am a polygamous female...
Now don't get me wrong...it's not sexual. But even if it were...you rammed your polygamy down my throat for ages, for centuries...
Has it ever occurred to you that one may be not enough ?
Has it ever occurred to you, that I too need to be stimulated spiritually, intellectually, mentally, emotionally...with more than one ?
Oh I can already see you cursing...
Curse yourself...
You are what I am.
I am what you are.

From a certain Qais to a certain Layla.

On my poetry blog, I wrote a series of poems from Layla to Qais.
A blog I closed to the public - since you people steal everything: from words, to someone's soul if you can, being the unoriginal plagiarists that you are.
Anyways - I received this song in return.
A beautiful song, with beautiful poetic lyrics where Qais sings his longing to Layla.
Besides, there's much more to the musical repertoire than your pathetic Western tunes.

A Message.

Every time I write a post about almost anything, someone has to write to me because they feel offended...

These ego maniacal trippers actually think am writing about them, when I don't even know them for starters...and know nothing about their lives.

I tell you something and you keep it in mind. If my posts can stir so much in the personal you, it is because there must be LOTS OF TRUTH in them...

So instead of just whining and complaining in emails, use that TRUTH and see where it will lead YOU...

And now am fed up with you lot !

To Hell.

Quote Unquote - "Spiritual"

People have this very naive almost stupid assumption that if someone is quote unquote "spiritual", then he or she is forcibly good...

This is the most ludicrous bullshit I have heard.

I remember J. J was very quote unquote "spiritual". He had altars in every single room of his house. He was often on his knees praying, and he mentioned God and his angels often...

But let me tell you something J was the nastiest, meanest, most dishonest, son of a bitch I ever came across in my whole life.

I kept wondering -- with all these outward manifestations of quote unquote "spirituality", and he's such a sore fucked up loser, what if he did not have any of it ?!

Then I remembered something so obvious -- Iblis, Shaytan, the Devil, was at some point. the closest to God.

Early Hours..

It's nearly 7 in the morning...and my whole life is flashing before my eyes...it took many unexpected turns...and I've been going with the flow...or trying to.
I could have been at 7 am in my own home, watering the plants in my kitchen for instance...or maybe doing my morning prayers, tiptoeing so as not to make noise, or maybe something else...other things that only I know...
But it's not.
It's nearly 7 in the morning and am here trying to accept a life flashing before my very eyes...trying to make sense...trying to understand the plan, the wisdom behind it all...
It could have been so different at 7 am.
It could have been safety, security, familiarity, belonging...
But it's not.
It's separation, longing, yearning, nostalgia, hope, exasperation, confusion and despair...
And in that there's a lesson for me.
A lesson of the early hours...

The Lesson of Exile...

It is written that I shall be exiled for as long as it takes...another test.
I am being told your home is not your home...it is a promised land.
I guess am being told, you belong to me...I am your land, your house, your home...

A Simple Love

Funnily, I feel Love only reveals itself in small daily things...Big things are for Heroes, and they only come once in a while...and this is when Love reveals its splendor...

But meanwhile for us, the rest...the splendor lies in the simplicity...

These are not things to be explained in words...these are things to be experienced...when a simple Love visits...

A Friend.

From all the friends I had, have, and all the people I know, there is only one who understands me quicker than lightning...

He's quick as a quiet breeze, catches it before it falls, laughs it off heartily, and dances on the same tune...

He understands me, in between the lines...and I understand him.

I need not explain, elaborate, analyse...it's already there. He gets it.

It's the swiftness of it all that I enjoy...he's quick, fast, rapid...a blink of the eye...

And that's how I like it.

We both understood ages ago, that time is so precious and that nothing lasts.

What Do They Know ?

Pray tell me what do these idiots know ? They know nothing...really, am serious, they know nothing.

They know nothing of the Essentials.

Their lives have been so warped, so skewed...And they walk around with these grandiose airs of intellectual sophistication...and the Essential has slipped them by...

Don't rely on them for Recognition, Understanding, or the rest...they can never give it to you.

They lost it themselves, long time ago.

An Anonymous Poem.

I received this poem from a person who wishes to be called Anon.

It is so beautifully touching, I need to publish it here, to keep it here...

Thank you Anon, from the bottom of my heart. May you and yours be blessed in all that you are and all that you do.


May Allah hold steady your hand
guide your pen
ever more daring
that you may steel your resolve - relentless
may He be pleased by the table you have laid
and bless you
and those who will imbibe with you
may He embolden you to dream
wilder dreams and may He dispatch
his most tender of angels to
cultivate the fragile
green shoots
you dared plant
in the bitterest winter in the most
desolate fields
may He grant you Job's patience
while you wait to reap an impossible harvest
shimmering fields golden
that you may be startled by the brightness
that only rivals
your own.

Paraphernalia...

Am a firm believer that when you get to the Real thing, you need no paraphernalia.

You come in simply as you are and you leave the same way...

All these accessories, things, stuff you bring in with you are totally unnecessary...

Once you get to the Heart, you need no appendages, no outfits, no paraphernalia...you need nothing. It's all already there for you.

The ME Rant...

Me, Me, Me, but Me, how about Me, and why not Me, and why Me, and where is Me in all of this and Me, and Me and Me...

It's the culture of ME. I am. Me, Myself and I.

And who is You ? Who is that Me ?...

Duh, hmm, ehh, what ?

Yes who is that Me ?

Hardly anyone can answer this...

Me is not a static thing, nor is it engraved in stone. Me is not the 10 Commandments, nor is it the Revelation...Me is a construct. A CONSTRUCT.

And what is constructed can be de-constructed and what is de-constructed can be constructed.

Which means what ? It means that this Me is an illusion, a created necessary illusion to function in daily life. This Me that so many people are after but no one really finds is a product of each person's history, family, education, society, beliefs, relations, experiences...etc...

This Me - since it is not the ultimate Reality, can change...and does change...and it can take on many colors, many traits, many forms, both positive and negative...

So when I hear people say I want to be fully Me, or accept Me for what I am, or love Me totally unconditionally...I laugh...

I laugh because there is no such thing as an immobilized Me, paralyzed Me, concrete Me...I laugh because this Me is an illusion. I laugh because Me is not the same yesterday today and tomorrow...

But most importantly I laugh because the one seeking the Me does not even know who this Me is.


P.S: Important note - And that is why in Classical Arabic you don't ask - how are You?, you do not address the Me...you ask "Kayf el Hal" - literally translated as how is your STATE. i.e. your physical, mental, emotional, spiritual state...And a STATE is for ever changing...There is NO Me stuck in a State.

You Are Not Important.

Sorry to break it to you so, sorry to be so blunt about it, but really, really, you are not fucking important, at all.

Everyone likes to think they are so terribly exceptional in their pain, suffering, struggles, their raison d'être...but frankly, you are not so terribly important...

In the grand scheme of things, in the bigger picture, frankly, nope, you're not...you're not important at all.

Oh but - you'd exclaim - am so specially different...No, you're not so specially different.

You're the same old boring homo erectus mortal. The one that eats, burps, fucks, farts, gets constipated and dies from a tiny microbe...but likes to believe he is so different... but am here to reassure you, you're not at all, all that different.

So sorry to spoil that narcissistic trip of yours, but it had to be done. The bubble had to be burst, pricked...Do thank me for the favor, maybe later...

On Fruitful Work...

I don't get paid work, often...it's my situation...and where am coming from.

But when I do, I do it with passion...

Even if am not paid in money, I still do it with passion.

My remuneration is seeing the seeds of my labor: planted, cultivated, labored and watching the fruits ripen to fruition...

I am a firm believer that anything you do with Passion, bears fruits.

For Passion is an intense Love, and an intense Love can only be fruitful.

No Despair...

The antidote of Despair is Faith...Faith in God, Faith in Allah, Faith in His Wisdom, Faith in His Plan...

Yes Faith, Faith. No just any faith, but Al Yaqeen, the Faith of Certainty...

Lots demean the ones who believe, who have faith...who surrender with struggle, but they surrender and accept...those think they are better, more in control, they believe they are captains in this world, the ones who command and the ones who decide...

These are the arrogant ones, they are even arrogant in their despair.

No thing, no situation, no condition, is desperate...not as long as you can breath in and out...not as long as God has granted you life, not as long as you are part of His plan, not as long as He decides when, how and where...

And if there is Someone, Something, so loving, so kind, who decides for you, how can you be so in Despair ?

Crazy...

Someone asked me today if I am crazy.

Of course I am, did you not realize that by now ?!

I am totally insane, I am the madwoman lurking out there to get you, pin you down and ravage your brains and heart...

I am the one who engulfs, eats up, swallows, in her madness, the poor Jonas right into the belly of the whale...

Did you not know that about me until now ?

What a pity! And me who thought you were so smart, so sophisticated, so learned, so cultured, so experienced, so lucid, so sure of yourselves, so together and so sane.


One of the tragedies of modern times is that people have come to believe that something said by someone in the past, perhaps for illustrative or provocation purposes, actually represents that person's beliefs at the time.
Idries Shah

Immature Men.

I, as a full Woman, simply can't handle immature men. I can't. There is something in me that goes haywire with these type of men.

I thought about this extreme allergy I have, and why it is so. I thought deeply about it, and now I understand...

Immature men are the anti thesis of the Masculine principle. What does that mean ?

I means that the Masculine principle is the principle of Direction, Authority, Limits, Clarity, Protection, Guidance, Responsibility, Wisdom (Hikma in Arabic), the Vertical, the Aleph and more... but right now I will associate only the above characteristics.

An immature man, sexually, emotionally, mentally is the total opposite of the Masculine principle. I said men, not boys. That means men who are capable of building families must also be capable of exhibiting at least some of the Masculine principle traits. That necessitates SELF WORK. And self work requires SELF EXAMINATION.

By a certain age, a man should know what he wants in life. That means by a certain age, it is assumed that he has asked himself the IMPORTANT questions in Life.

This is grosso modo - the reader should use his/her brains and go deeper into the problematic, I can't explain everything in a blog post.

So what happens when I come face to face with the lack of the above ? I have to tap into my own reservoir of the Masculine Principle (we are all made of both Feminine and Masculine) to make up for the lack in the other. And who suffers in consequences ? The Feminine in me.

Femininity needs the masculine principle to blossom, bloom, and reach its full Essence. Its ontological state if you wish. This is the law of the Universe, of Nature, of Fitra in Arabic.

And when this lacks in the other (am not talking in absolute terms here, all is a question of balance), it is disconcerting for me, saps my energy, drains me, frustrates me, and pushes me into a role I am not quite sure I want to play...

And seeing that most men I come across have not even bothered to ask the important questions in Life, because they are too busy being "men" in the most limited sense of the word, you can imagine the consequences...

On Marriage...

Please bear with me, am in the mood of writing...

No forget that. I need not your approval. This is my blog and I do what I like with my pages.
Surely, I don't need your approval to broach the subject of marriage.

I know, I know, you like to think you have risen above that, you like to think that it's an outdated institution, you like to think that your cheap verbal commitments that are not worth a dime will make up for it...

Well guess what ? I don't buy any of it.

I don' buy any of it because you have gone against nature...and anything that goes against nature is no longer credible in my eyes.

What do I mean by that ?

I mean that marriage is a natural institution. I don't really care about your leftist theories, your Das Capital, and the rest...Am a woman and am telling you, women aspire to marriage.

OK now let's define what marriage is, because there are different definitions of it, depending on where you are at.

Marriage for me is not - wedding bells, white dresses, ceremonies, the solitaire ring, banquets, receptions and invitation cards...am not into all that shit. This is your definition of marriage, this is commercialized marriage, this is the wedding event.

Am not talking about this kind of marriage at all.

Am talking of a different kind of marriage altogether, am talking of the union of two souls.

That does not necessitate all your shit. All this senseless, waste of time and money circus...

OK granted it may be a special day when two souls are to be united...but two souls don't need all that stage comedy to convince themselves of their union. Souls are souls...they are not consumer products to impress.

Real Union comes in simplicity and in sincerity, it does not need all this adornment. It does not need proof, it does not need an impressive evidence...it does not need all this paper work, all this stress, all this angst, all this crap...

Marriage is a quiet, matter of fact union that necessitates a simple ritual of passage...

A ritual of passage from one state to another...that's all.

And as the Prophet Mohammed said - Make things easy and make them simple.

Praising The Iraqi Woman.

Every now and then I like to praise the Iraqi woman.

I like to praise my female ancestors, my grandmother, my mother...
Every now and then I like to praise you.
I like to praise you because no one else does.
I like to praise you because you have been shelved into forgetfulness.
I like to praise you because you have given me Life.
I like to praise you because you are so different, even though you don't appear so.
I like to praise you because you are so strong, so loyal, so resilient.
I like to praise you because I know what is inside of you.
I like to praise you because you are beautiful.
I like to praise your beauty, your natural beauty, the beauty of your expression, the beauty of your tears, the beauty of your smile...
I like to praise you because you have witnessed what no other woman has witnessed.
I like to praise you for your strength, your faith, your patience, your love.
I like to praise you because you deserve it, you merit it, you are worth it a hundred times over.
Because you are worth it more than all the women in the world.
I like to praise you because you are me and I am you.

Change...

“Truly, God does not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves.” (Quran 13:11)

I've been watching an interview with Yusuf Islam (former Cat Stevens). I love Yusuf/Cat. Always have since I was a teenager. For me he represents a very positive image of the Male Gender, in particular his spiritual evolution throughout the years and the sincerity that oozes from him - even before he converted to Islam and that transpired through his musical compositions and through his personality/character. These are traits that I admire so, so, much in him. Hence my love for him. And I do recall that I mentioned in one of my posts here, that many years ago, I sent him a birthday card, urging him to take up music again, since he had given up on it. In this anonymous card I wrote that Allah was not against his music since he was His instrument with a message to the world. Hence I was so thrilled to learn that, many years later, Yusuf is back on the scene.

Anyways in this interview on Riz Khan, Yusuf quoted this ayat from the Holy Koran (and by the way I don't fully agree with his political views but that's not the main topic of this post). And it is no coincidence that I am writing this, because for a whole week, I've been thinking and meditating on that exact same ayat.

“ Truly, God does not change the condition of a people until they change what is IN themselves.” (Quran 13:11)

This ayat can be understood on so many levels :

It may mean God does not change the condition of a people, a group, a nation, a tribe, a country, a class, unless they change what is in themselves - meaning, change from silence, change from injustice, change from apathy, change from indifference, change from hypocrisy, change from deception, change from superstitions, change from irresponsibility, change from immorality, change from greed...change implied here is always for the better and in Arabic it can also mean that change is effected with your own hands, i.e taking responsibility for change. This is one level of understanding, and it applies to a "people". To the collectivity, so to speak. to societies, hence this ayat can be understood sociologically. By correlation, it is implied that their present condition is due to these things that they have not changed so far, yet...


Another level of understanding for this ayat, is God does not change a people, meaning a person, until this person changes what is IN himself/herself. This is so clear. It means your condition will not change, whatever your condition is, unless you are willing to change what is IN yourself. And in order to change what is IN yourself, you need to know what is IN yourself.
Which means you need to ask yourself questions about you. It means self awareness, it means self consciousness. It means no more denial about those aspects of the self that are leaving you in a rut. This requires self honesty. And the ayat then affirms that your condition will change once you do that.

I don't believe one can change oneself alone. That is why Allah comes into the picture, by confirming/assuring the believer that He will change his/her condition - condition can mean physical, material, mental, emotional, spiritual - provided that the believer takes that first step of looking inside himself/herself. In other words, God will change you, if you are willing to be changed.

Am sure there are more levels of understanding to this ayat, but I will suffice with the above.

Integrity.

Integrity is an alien word these days...and particularly so in personal relationships.

I don't know what type of relationships you've had, but I sure know mine.

I kept thinking there was something wrong with me, until I realized that there is nothing wrong with me, but that there is everything wrong with the men I meet. Most happen to be Arabs and Muslims (by name alone not necessarily of Arab origins either) and am very tempted to say UNFORTUNATELY SO.

I say unfortunately so, because neither category lives up to anything they preach. Really, it has become beyond pathetic, it has become grave and seriously so. I say grave, because this is the example they keep setting for others to follow. And the inherent message in that example, is - you forfeit your ways, the principles you live by because they don't work anymore, they are anachronistic. And that's a damn grave statement to make with far reaching implications and consequences for the women in their lives and for society at large.

As for me, it takes me extra work, extra strength and extra courage not to be sucked into that in vogue current of lies and deceit, into their ways which has become the norm in both private and public spheres and which has plagued the minds of these men, hopelessly so.

Time and time again, I am deceived, lied to, cheated, manipulated...The truth, is an alien concept to these men, seriously. Lying is second skin to them, they'd lie about the smallest and biggest of things...it's ENDEMIC in them. And they are so steeped in it, they would not even recognize Truth even if it hits them between the eyes.

If mister is generous enough, he will give you the truth in homeopathic doses, drop by drop...so naturally, when I smell a big fat rat, I go after the stink. I get to the bottom of the shit, and then you discover layers and layers of fabricated stuff, lie upon lie, make believe upon make believe...so naturally you get furious, I do and very much so.

Of course I do, lying is fucking emotional abuse, and I have been constantly abused by these dickheads lies. First I give the benefit of the doubt, but my intuition tells me otherwise, my in built alarm system starts vibrating, then a thousand bells start ringing in my ears...

And am patient, am patient not because am naive, am patient because patience is a strategy. A strategy to get to the Truth.

Then comes the utter limits, and patience gives in to confrontation, and then to rage for being so betrayed in your own integrity, for having your own dignity so disrespected and trampled on, for being treated like some fool, for being insulted in your intelligence and for being repeatedly abused by lies, deceptions and fabrications.

And then comes sadness, all the time spent, all the energy wasted, all the words said...

Had these assholes and they are assholes, had some backbone, some spine, some balls, some guts, they could play it differently. They could play it like real MEN.

They could say - I said so and so, but this is not the case, I apologize and this is what really happened.

or they could say - I did promise this, I failed to deliver, let me explain myself.

or they could say - I screwed up, I realize, I apologize, I want to make amends, and I want to make it right.

or they could say - This is what happened, this is the full story.

or they could just say it from the very beginning AS IT IS.

Now, that's called fucking INTEGRITY. That's called owning up. That's called having balls. That's called having guts. That's called strength. That's called respect. That's called being a MAN.

So of course, when you do get to the truth, by your own means, and you find out how duped and the extent of the superchery you get angry...of course you get angry...any person with an iota of self respect and dignity will get angry for being duped.

So how do these assholes react to your anger ? They tell you in so many words you don't respect them. Of course you bastards I don't respect you. What is there to respect ? You have no fucking integrity in you, you have no fucking standards to live by, you have no fucking morals, you have no fucking conscience, what do you want me to respect you for ?! Or maybe you think I should respect you for paying lip service to things you don't apply and don't practice ?!

But, but, but...these same assholes who have none in them, also get angry if put in the same situation, if the tables are turned... But they don't get angry because they have integrity, they get angry because their fucked up ego, the ego of a kid, emotionally arrested at age 10, is bruised, they get angry because their ego is crushed. This is how pathetic they are and this shows how little standards they have.

And you know why this is so ? Because they are always banking on your integrity, on your patience...thinking to themselves and believing - this time I will get away with it, this time I will invent another cock and bull story, this time I will find another lame excuse, and after all, she's a decent woman, she's got integrity, she's patient, she's a good Arab Muslim girl, I can get away with it again...

But these assholes always fail to learn the lesson, always...they fail to understand, the simple, simple truth and that truth is - had they been straightforward from the very beginning, had they been honest, had they had balls, guts, spine from the beginning, had they not chosen the easy way out, had they shown some Integrity themselves, they would have been respected, admired and forgiven time and time again.


P.S : The politically correct would argue, well this is the case for men worldwide. Maybe so and that's beside the point. Men worldwide don't preach into my head 24/7 about morality, principles and good behavior, nor do men worldwide use the name of the Almighty Allah, 10 times in one sentence, in vain...

Limits.

Everyone has limits, even donkeys have limits as to how much load they can carry...
Limits are not engraved in stone, they are like elastic bands...but once you stretch them a wee bit too much, they snap.

It's always good to know how far your elastic bands can stretch...and when you need to turn those limits into hard cement walls...

I personally have reached mine. And I shall give them the form and texture they need. Elastic, cement, brick, wood, metal, I decide...and decided I am.

If It Does Not Fit...

If it does not fit, it does not fit...so damn simple.

No point forcing it, coaxing it, making it to fit...

I was talking to a friend of mine earlier this evening, and I don't know how but this image popped up in my mind...and I said to him :

- Remember when you were a teenager and you were so attached to that pair of trousers, that t.shirt?

- Yeah I remember that.

- Well, can you wear them today, do they still fit you ?

- No they don't, of course they don't.

- Then it's the same with everything else...what used to fit in the past, does not fit anymore in the present.

If it does not fit you anymore, it does not fit you anymore.

Vacation...

Vacation, vacant, vacate - I like that word.

To vacate something, a vacant place...for me it means to leave behind, to leave empty...to walk away, move away, fly away...

I have not had a real vacation in ages...maybe 2 days here and 3 days there, but a REAL one, nope.

So what's a real vacation for me ? Vacate that place am in...not only physically vacate...change the place...move the body away - i.e move the physical and the mind will follow.

There is a Hadith by the Prophet Mohammed, Peace and Blessings upon him, and it says to the effect - if you feel stuck...change the country in which you live, if you can't, then change your home, and if you can't, then change the position of your bed.

What does that mean ? It means that if your energy is stagnating, make a physical change.

Vacate the place, the lieu, the dwelling, the space you inhabit, and if you can't do that, then change the position of your bed... meaning -- the position you always take.

Good wisdom...follow it.

The Four Signs of a Hypocrite

According to one Hadith by the Prophet Mohammad, Peace and Blessings upon him - the characteristics of a sheer Hypocrite are four and the one who possesses one of them, possesses the characteristics of Hypocrisy.

- when s/he is entrusted with something, s/he betrays the trust.
- when s/he speaks, s/he lies.
- when s/he promises, s/he acts treacherously.
- when s/he argues with a person, s/he spills that person's secrets.

In another Hadith on the same subject, the hypocrite is characterized as someone who pays lip service to something which s/he does not do or which s/he does not really believe in...

Surat Al-Baqara is specially dedicated to the Hypocrites, and this happens to be the longest Surat in the Koran.

So Hypocrisy really boils down to lying, deception, treason, cheating, divulging other's people secrets (I include gossip/backbiting in this category), pretending to be, believe, speak, act in a certain way and it's nothing but pretense - and the real intentions and acts are contrary to what is spoken.

Basically a hypocrite is someone who gets people to believe/trust his/her - words, deeds, person, etc...and then betrays you. And this is exactly what a hypocrite does.

So Hypocrisy is the root of Betrayal. And betrayal is a smashed broken trust. And a broken trust is a broken bond. And since in Islam bonds based on trust are sacred, a hypocrite is basically a violator of the Sacred.

Soul of a Poet...

I said soul of a poet, I did not say a famous poet, I did not say the best poet, I did not say the perfect poem...I said soul of a poet.

I pick words carefully...read the words carefully.

This is no advertisement to be scanned, no document to review, no article for information...

The soul of a poet lives in wilderness, an aloneness, a solitude...

This is the place where all starts to flows...this is the water spring, the source...

In a couple of lines, your life is encapsulated. Your life is encapsulated. Yours.

A word here, a word there, and you find yourself...you find the word that you've been searching for all your life. You find the image, the mirror that speaks to you.

And you're comforted in the solitude of your own soul. For the poet always speaks to you through himself...

Looking at the Positive...

One of the nicest, best inventions of this IT business or whatever the fuck you call it are the:

Block, delete, cancel, filter, refuse, decline, ignore... -- options.

I must say, had it not been for those, my life would be a living virtual hell by now.

There's not much more; emoticons, a 1000 exclamation marks, a 1000 question marks, tongues sticking, teeth shining through letters, icons, avatars, pictures, codes and encrypted shit I can take no more...

Stuff your LOL, your ROFL, your LMAO, your abbreviations, your smiley faces, your private messages, your public messages, your emails, your quotations, your remarks, your make believe, your online niceties, your caring sharing shit, your politically correct garbage, your opinions on everything and anything...oh and your fucking philosophical takes... Am not fucking interested.

You can shove it all up your fake asses, and hope you enjoy it too.

Now am going out for some real, hard fun and my middle finger says goodbye to you.

A Manual On How To Become Perfect.

This is a manual specially written for women. You must be absolutely perfect. Always, totally perfect, for ever and ever...till the hour of your death and beyond...even in your grave...only then will you be approved of, only then maybe, I said maybe, you will be recognized for who you are...no wait, for who you were...no wait...

These are tips for you, good advice, that you ought to memorize perfectly by heart and repeat daily like those uplifting affirmations...meditate on them deeply and put them into practice immediately.

- Give, give and give some more. Expect nothing in return, zero, ziltch. Your mission in life is to be a giver only. Give everything and give everything up in the process. Your love, your affection, your understanding, your patience, your sanity, your time, your energy, your body, your well being, your health, your wealth...anything you've got --- sacrifice it damn it, sacrifice even your life, because you'll be so much worthier of a person, of a human being.

- Never ask questions. Never. Whatever you are told, accept and believe. Specially from the men in your lives. Don't ever ever doubt them. Ever. Whatever doubts or suspicions rise in your soul, banish them... whatever inklings come from the voice within you, silence them. Whatever incongruence, cues, signals...ignore them, censor them. Never question his integrity, his worth, his value, his behavior, his attitude, his omissions, his secrets, his skeletons in locked closets....never question him. Ever.

- Listen, always listen...never fail to listen, always...listen and listen some more...attentively, with interest, with passion, with awe, with admiration...even if you are saturated, even if you are tired, even if you are ill, even if you are on your fucking death bed, it does not matter, you are not important, keep on listening...and if the urge to speak, talk, grabs you, be merciless with it...simply shut up and listen.

- Physically...physically, never ever underestimate the importance of physically...Your body, your face, your hands, your nails, your legs, your arms, your stomach, your breasts, your hair...your appearance, everything, everything must be perfect, always, at all times, under any circumstances...You are not allowed any spots, blemishes, wrinkles, cellulite, extra kilo, flab, spider veins, cuticles, split ends, extra hair....anything out of the perfect measurements is forbidden. You are to be smooth, silky, spotless, soft, fresh, exfoliated, polished, vivacious, jovial, always, remember ALWAYS.

- Sex, you are all waiting to hear about sex. This is the most important part. Let me give it to you in one sentence. You are a sexual slave and if you are not by now, then you must become.
Your body is his temple...his play field...you are to allow him anything and everything, at all times, whenever he wants, whenever he desires, whenever he fancies...anything he asks of you, do not ever ever turn him down. Stay tuned in to his needs. I don't care what you are feeling, or going through...all of this is immaterial, irrelevant. And remember your pleasure, your desires, your wants, your needs, are not important...only he counts, only he matters. Don't ever forget that.

- Never, ever, reproach him, criticize him, get angry with him, be impatient with him, you are to massage his ego, his feet, his balls, whatever he asks of you, massage it...drop anything you are doing and just obey his demands, his whims, his capriciousness...even if he takes you for granted, even if he is inconsiderate, insensitive, out of control, erratic, reckless, unfaithful, disloyal, insane, mad, abusive, violent... it does not matter...keep praising him, you must be grateful to have him, always grateful. Keep smiling, keep nodding, keep talking softly, keep being nice, keep being loving, keep being forgiving, keep being forbearing, keep being understanding, keep being supportive, keep being kind, keep being generous, keep being happy, you must be grateful and happy, it is an order, be grateful and happy with whatever he dishes your way.

Of course, this is not the end of the lesson...I can keep on adding more, but I want you to memorize that part first...and don't worry, we will always find someone to place a few flowers on your tomb.

On Men...

Men are too fucking stupid..sorry to be so blunt about it...

Not all men hopefully, but like 99% of them.

Many asked what women wanted. No one asked what men wanted...

Lingerie, porn sex, women on top, women from behind, women in front...they would still find another excuse, another position, another something...

No fucking something left in my dictionary...no holes in souls, no longing, no yearning...I've finally discovered the Feminine...

All come to it and she budges for no one. OK, except maybe for the 1% left.

How Much Is Enough ?

How much is enough ? Is what my dying surrogate father uttered on his death bed...

He waited for a reply.

Drips, nurses, and a ravaging disease that ate him up.

I am not sure the answer came forth...but maybe it did...

Am too much of a "simpleton" to notice these things...but he did pass away on my father's birthday...the exact same date...the beginning of Summer...Maybe this was an answer from a silent God. Maybe after all, our role is nothing but that of surrogates, whose surrogates were snatched away from...maybe after all, God does have mercy on orphans...

Curiously, his birthday was on the 21st of March, the first day of Spring. The pagan new year... when all is reborn after a long death...and he passed away on the very first day of a Summer...the day my father was born, as if to thank us...so we can remember a short lived Spring and a short lived Summer...

Not many will understand that...but I do.

Clearing The Fog...

Clearing the fog, sweeping from under the carpet, cleaning the dust - a theme that has been repeating itself as of late...will get down to the bottom of it.

That's how I operate, that's how I function...get to it, expose it to light, see it for what it is, then decide what to do with the knowledge...keep it, discard it, transform it...these are my inner workings. This is the inside job.

Clarity and Cleanliness are synonymous in my mind...when your space is clean, you see clearly...

There is no other way to dispel fog, there is no other way to do away with dust.

Is that not what the proverbial - The Truth will set you Free - all about ?

Truth, Clarity, Cleanliness are One and the Same.

Fog In My Coffee.

Today has been a particularly hard one.

I stopped over for a coffee and a croissant before heading to an appointment...usually coffee dispels clouds and fogginess...not today though. I had three in a row, like a junkie hoping that his next fix will produce the intended result...did not happen.

That gut wrenching sinking feeling that I've been carrying inside since the early hours did not evaporate with my fix. The act of being in a café, something that usually brings me some form of comfort, I suppose due to the fact that I feel am in a "shared place" with the "social other", did not do it for me either. The sound of coffee being grounded and its strong aroma, with the secret hope of being grounded myself through my senses, did not do it for me...

My immediate band aid, my temporary fix failed...I am still stuck in the fog...I will just have to accept it is so for now.

The Power of Words...

I love writing...writing for me, when it gushes from the very depth of the self, is akin to the rapture from a union with the Lover. Ever since I was a child, I did not play with dolls and what have you, I wrote instead...I'd write about everything and anything.

My first poem was composed at age 11. This is something I managed to later on salvage from the debris...I still have it. The poem was no love poem, it was a political poem at age 11. I was exposed to politics from a very early age, "par la force des choses"...and since, it runs in my blood...

I did not study literature per se, but I read a lot, daily. Again, when asked what I wanted for a present, my standard reply was - I want a book.

My father was a very astute man, and he noticed my love for the written word, he nourished and encouraged it in me...At times he'd pick the kind of books I was allowed to read, am talking pre-pubescent years here, and I'd rebel, I always wanted something more complex...so we'd have these long arguments in bookshops about what I was allowed to read...at times he'd give in and at times he'd stand his grounds...and at times, I'd save every single penny and go and buy the forbidden book.

One of these forbidden books was Nana by Emile Zola. Dad gave a categorical no when I pointed my finger at the shelf and at the book. I don't know how I did it, but I still managed to get hold of it, actually buy it "en cachette", in secret...

And each book I got hold of, regardless of the subject matter, was for me a universe in itself...a universe where I can drown, escape, fly...I felt I had at my fingertips knowledge that no one had access to, but only me...

All to say that I discovered very early on, the power of words...and their power to transform, shape, change and usher in new directions...

I suppose it is no coincidence that I was born an Iraqi, after all, Mesopotamians invented the alphabet, they invented words...