For the time being ...

- What did you have for lunch?
- I grabbed a tuna sandwich from the coffee shop
- I thought you weren’t eating bread anymore
- I was in a hurry. So what’s up?
- I’m leaving you
- Yeah I figured that much
- We’re not in love
- No we’re not. We tried though
- We did. We have a good thing here.
- Great but not enough yeah?
- Yeah. Right?
- I don’t know. I know I love you as much as I can love these days
- That’s bullshit
- Yes it is. Ok then
- Oh well. It is what it is...
- Aha yes. Anyone in mind?
- Not really. Well …
- You bastard
- What?
- See I still feel jealous. I must love you then.
- Na.. We both know how possessive you are
- Yeah you’re right but why am I always scared to leave you?
- Because you also hate change. This has nothing to do with me.
- Yeah true. See how much you know me? Who will know me like you? No we’re staying together.
- We are?
- Yeah. Hey for now at least. I mean I am leaving anyway. Oh did I tell you I’m leaving? Yes I found a job in California and I’m leaving in 3 months. Sorry I haven’t told you about my plans but I figured you were about to leave me soon.
- No worries
- Cool.. You should come visit. It’s a nice place on the beach
- You already found a place?
- Yes I did when I went last weekend
- You were away last weekend?
- See how distracted you are? So I went and found a place. The weekend was fun. We went fishing.. I used to go fishing with my dad when I was a kid…
- Who’s we?
- Oh… Did I tell you I’m wearing my hair curly again?

What sells?

Even if your heart is in it, even if your hard work and devotion was put forth, it is all in the presentation. This is the American way. It is all about a clean extensive consistent brainwashing propaganda.

From advertising to journalism, bridging the gap between manufacturer and consumer, between leader and followers, the means are by all means and the story behind the news is news in itself. Flooding the markets with rotten products and our life and brains with rotten concepts and mere lies, you have to leave some credit sometimes for their imagination and initiative and their respect of our intellect and our approval. There is nothing I like more than a smart ad. It gives me the illusion that I, as a target audience, matter.

What pains me today though, is that it is all there for us to see. Nothing is covertly hidden for our common basic human taste. The teeth of the empire snatch morsels from the world and it is all done in arrogance and distaste and condescension. How could we not wake up angered every morning when a quick glimpse into media outlets to check on our beloved world throws us in dire despair? It is weaved for you to believe that the world is too screwed up too angry to hateful for you to comprehend and that it should be left for the experts to handle. You are made to believe that you almost cannot carry a sympathy feeling long enough for a people who are trained to hate you and destined to die, let alone carry a thought long enough when journalism gives in to advertising to bombard your life with worries and needs and cheap entertainment.

What pains me is that it is all there for us to see. They are not even trying to cover up. The stupid nationalism that blindly drove us to believe in the absurdity of wars and being ruled and being told what to do and what to say and what to think, the fear that took over our dignity and right to live, the misanthropist drive that closes us up and tucks us in, will kill us all.

What pains me is that it is all there for us to see in so many ways if we only care enough and respect ourselves enough to want to know and to want to make a change yet we choose not to look, we look the other way. We are selfish and animalistic more so every day and we are endangering our kind. They are not smart enough to hide the abject poverty starting here, the injustice, the torture, the double standards, the cries for help from children all around the world.

It really pains me that they don’t care to hide it and that we have willingly given our freedom away.

Today's article
Today's lyrics
And from apartheid, read here (from transient's blog) and here.

Don't want to grow up!

We don't want to give stupid lectures and have stupid jobs and carry stupid labtops around to stupid meetings ...

We want to dance and be silly and never grow up and never leave each other...

Why is it that we have to keep saying stupid goodbyes in this country every couple of years...

Bad enough it takes so long to make a home for ourselves from scratch, we have to do this all the time now ... Everything is changing and it is my highest stress level possible ...

I'm having meltdowns ... No i know .. A lot of people do it all the time and get adapted fairly quickly ... Bastards!

We invest in our careers but we also invest in the people we love. We don't have to drift apart even when we're apart? not true! It's not the same. If i don't see you in a couple of years i probably will forget your face and your habits and why i loved you in the first place.

Someone said to me that i'm always stuck in the past. Well of course i am. My present keeps changing and my future 3a kaff 3afreet. 3afreet eh.

When we were kids we wanted this life. Remember? Vivre comme des vagabonds. Fresh starts at every step. Never buy furniture and never get too close or too attached but travel light and carry a pad to write each other ... Two drifters ...

Yeah? Well i'm tired of drifting. You drift away. I'm settling again another time but for the last time. I'm saying goodbye for the last time. I'm buying furniture and a washer and dryer and maybe i'll even get a mortgage ... Who knows ... I'm shipping my cats for the last time ... No more moving sales, no more address changes and no more life changes ...

For the next ten years you know where i will be ... Stuck in my stupid new place, in my stupid apartment, in my stupid job ... I have to grow up ...

We're no longer students forever, no longer starting over ... no writing fellowship in London or an editorial job in Barcelona. kbirna we t3ibna we 3eefouna ... It's over ... This is it my dear ... Shou? Coming?

TUFFA7A



On a sleepless night ... She was born and she seemed sad ...

Broken hymns of the olive land ...







I stand with open arms a chorus behind me with nothing to say and my eyes teary
I hang by a thread from base to abyss, my neck stretched and my back weary
The years unravel throwing morsels of letdowns and putdowns my way
I wait in patience and good faith for a gift from above for a much better day

Dark are my words dim are the signs endless is the night scary is a life without quest
I would have lived as I wished thrown of life what I wished and taken the best
Hair avalanching colors of life and arms inebriated with the moist peck of the ocean
Chuckles breaking in the background and hearts racing skipping beats without caution

Their shadows haunted mine imprisoned my heart in shackles and tied the rest
Far on the hills echoes of my madness cascading pain of the world on their chest
Their eyes on my walls their fingers in my daily bread my olives a bitter potion
A story of boiling hate that masks by the weight of living the magic of creation

I stand with open legs with twisted arms stories behind me and my eyes teary
I lay sweating and shivering forever forgotten, my words forgiven and my back weary
I wait in fear for your light for your revenge for your wisdom and for a much better day
You ask of my children to live and forgive and to smile, eyes to the heavens and I say; until I forgive you my rage my grief, my torture, my ailing limbs and my dismay,
My children will stand proud will look away from your heaven and will smile my way

Left alone ...


We are more and more alienated.
More and more dispensable.
More and more unfairly treated, belittled, left alone,
More and more …
More and more mocked
by our spouses,
mocked
by our bosses,
mocked
by our governments,
Left alone ...
By our children, our neighbors, our loved ones,
our friends,
left alone ...
By the world, by the gods, by the skies
More and more endangered, enraged, entangled-
together-
on a stage,
and at the end left alone ...
Used and abused and stepped on and pushed aside.
Used and overused flipped and thrown by the tides.
Used and seduced and laid flat and left alone.
Panting and chanting and ranting and spinning,
a fever of pilgrimage from dusk to dawn,
a fever of passion turned paper-
turned stone.
Behind the scenes behind the curtains behind the doors,
left alone ...
Oozing squealing tiny screams from heads thrown-
on pillows of hay pillows of silk pillows of tears-
sawn with strings of light strings that break,
that disappear,
that fall apart,
till the morning light,
Left alone.
Images and words and colors and lies and blindness,
rushed flushed crushed with rudeness,
with lack of kindness.
Rage of the skies on virtues slipping-
on hearts ripping,
on life wasting life,
to be left alone ...
We are more and more,
alone.
More and more atone-
to one heart beat,
to one opinion one idea one road.
More and more predestined propositioned predisposed,
Pre-packed pre-peeled-
our fate sealed,
our souls torn.
From dusk till dawn we spin we grin,
we pre-paste our little titles and self pack in little bins,
we self code self erode and explode from within ...
Behind the doors,
behind the stage,
and left alone …

The iron man
As the golden rays tenderly reinvade our days. As the shy Spring springs the first promise of summer and heat and fun, everyone around me seems to be falling in love. I am falling in love too. I am falling in love with Bobby Flay. I am. This is serious! I am clearly not one of those teenage girls who fall in love with television characters so where is this coming from? I really love him. I’m obsessing with the guy. I can talk about him for hours. I know everything about him. Anyone knows him? He’s a New Yorker so it’s not like I’m falling for a Hollywood personality. Now that would be tacky. He’s also very real so this is not coming from an immature fantasy. Real? He’s an iron chef.. How could that be real? Iron chef, how sexy is that? I need to be put behind iron bars, now that’s for certain. I have been staying up all night, every night for the past week to watch reruns of his show. I'm exhausted and very busy these days to be doing this. Again, anyone knows him? Seriously! Forget it. Forget I said all that.

Happy mother's day!

I recommend this website if you want to send flowers back home. It's always on time and their flowers are beautiful.

Suicide building, yeah right!

Palestinians need an impossible to obtain permit in order to escape the demolition of their homes built on land they own, while settlers get military protection but i gave up on fairness and empathy on the Israeli side long ago.

And nothing we didn't already know and argue here but i gave up on logic and honesty on that side long ago.

While you might be predisposed to some ideas growing up, the strongest opinions of others and the character-changing lessons in life are really the ones you form based on what you live and what you experience. We don't propagate hate, we just propagate ourselves. We are who society makes of us. We are the result of a global collective human interaction that will be affected by international politics, economics and culture. In today's wars, racism, commercialism and globalization of cheap ideas, cheap lives double lanes and fast gains, what a sad generation we must be raising!

Ya 3youn Baghdad ...

powered by ODEO

Four years ...

La Pedrera
Some chapter ...

She sat across the table from him, loosely following his gestures. Her lazy looks wandered around the old French cabin only to rest her eyes on her glass and then on his eyes. The tip of that decadent red encircled her existence that night. She oscillated between her half clear glass and her half-lit cigarette and half a smile. The smell of cognac invaded the intimate aroma of her wine which seemed to protect her from a world she was not ready for. He looked right through her. They locked eyes sporadically and it was enough to send fire through her spine. She guzzled her wine to allow her nerves to catch up with his.

She took the chance while he was deeply engaged in his conversation at the other end to examine him. His silence as he listened was somehow more forceful than his words. He had a pleasant air about him. He had a mysterious quality wrapped in his years. He had a fire inside him secretly disguised in his carefully pleated scarf that hid the color of his chest. While he looked distant, while they laughed and gesticulated around him, his gaze into the empty space got deeper.

Her body was wired to his intonations. She felt as if he was whispering to her across the table. He rested an arm on the linen and started caressing it with his fingers. She secretly touched the linen with her knee only to blush. It was as if he was caressing her skin. It was intoxicating but it seemed like she was the last thing on his mind that night. He listened to his host resting a look on her hand, which made her nervous. Her right hand suddenly felt bare of any sophistication and of necessary distractions.

She reached for her cigarette again. He still looked at her hand. It was strange. It was as if he was controlling her gestures now. As if he could see her nervousness. As if he knew that she was not to belong there. She laid her palm flat on the table with the cigarette still between her fingers. He could not possibly know who she was. He did not notice her but why does she feel like he knows her? Why does she feel calm when she looks in his alarming eyes? Why does he strike his conspiring fingers on the table to keep her breathing? Did he not invade her sanctum with his stares to let her know that he was there? Does he know all what went in her head that night?

She felt silly and she realized that she was silent. She came out of her deep thoughts to notice a silence around the table. She smiled nervously at their host and she felt her heart beats. He was looking at her. Quiet. Sure and relaxed in his seat. He looked at her with no explanation and no embarrassment. Like it was his right to sample her face now. To slowly work his eyes through her lips and through her cheeks and through her eyes like he did her fingers. She could not breathe. He tilted his head and smiled. That half smile that made her knees shake.

The host stood up to usher her friend to her room. That is when she realized that she was alone with him. They walked away and she could not get herself to look at him yet. He stood up and came to sit beside her.

- You have the most delicate air about you. He said. I have been distracted all night. I think you are charming. I am simply intrigued. I tried to get you to look at me. I tried to let you know that I was there.
- You did? She replied calmly while still looking away. I have not noticed. The smell of cognac gives me a headache.
- I thought we took common interest in each other tonight. The way you looked at me.
- I think it was all in your head and I wish you would refrain from whispering. My fiancé will return shortly...

In bold letters
It took me years to forget the pain. I was dysfunctional for months at a time. I cried for almost a year. I loved you with all that I was and you were cold enough to have a secret life… back then … You shamed me in your disloyalty and shook my young pride to the core … back then … You were a set back in all my relationships. The challenge that haunted me since ... the distrust that came with the game since then …
As it turns out, I am not interested in glimpses of the past. I summon the pain to wash it out but I don’t have it in me anymore. The memory doesn’t hurt anymore. I am indifferent to who you are, where you are and what you do.
All I am to you now is a memory and this is how it should be. I said pack your memories and go and leave the past in the past …
Even the friendship had passed, just leave me be ...
I never want to see you again ..

A pro-active care label (link)

Very funny blog

Douleur d’amour


And you had the heart to cheat my heart
My heart that loved you
and guarded you
You had the heart…





And tell me darling
When you planted your nails in her flesh
Did your fingers cringe?
Your fingers that know me
Like a shear blanket have thrown me
When your eyes gazed in her eyes
Where did your tears hide?
Your tears that adore me
Like a secret lover mourn me
When you rested your lips on her hair
Did you smell the desert night?
Did your lips fight?
Your lips that tasted my sweat
That shivered nights as I wept
When you squeezed her in your arms
Did your heart die?
You heart that belongs to me

Did you hear my sighs?
Crimson bed, rotten lilacs
Broken cribs
And cries

A life reduced to mockery
Break down the world
And turn off the skies

You had the heart to cheat my heart
My heart that loved you
and guarded you
Was it all lies?

May your heart forgive you
As mine will …

Back to the region
It seems that we go into denial every now and then. Call it survival mechanism. If i don't read the news, they don't exist. Lebanon is not in turmoil still and Palestine is stable. Even more dangerous the proactive political sites that refuse to see and reflect the truth and all the truth. In Lebanon, things did indeed stand still. The sterile process of splitting the goods or the calm before another blow. We will wait and see. In Palestine, the silence is always deafening. Headlines that don’t abuse you and flash in your face only hide a fake stability. Every lack of reporting tells you that something very wrong is happening or will happen soon. What you don’t hear about is what you need to know. The lack of noise in the mainstream outlets, as we all know, only means a lack of spirit and a lack of resistance on ‘our side’. Trying to run away from the silence again..
So what do you call peace for peace?

If you're in Lebanon, visit the pub on the corner
http://thecorner.skyblog.com/

Leave the past in the past

Years had passed
He floated in as he dissolved away
Too magical to be true
too tender to be felt and tasted
Some encounters are better wasted
Better kept separate from the crudeness of the next day
The debt of past had passed
forgetfulness is its own bliss
Has it not been a decade since his last kiss?
Has she not gone-
pleasures forgone rights relinquished
Has she not lived tasteless-
her fires quenched
Has she crossed oceans to be followed with his dismay?

Some hearts love with no regrets
Some do it to forget
And some are torn to shreds
Leave the past in the past dear
It is just better this way …

Some foolish things...

- You sound calm
- Renewed appreciation of disaster
- Like the girl I used to know
- Renewed sense of self
- You sound happier
- Renewed confidence in life
- Still lonely?
- Just alone
- And happier?
- I just sometimes need to be left alone
- Then why do you go out of your way to be loved?
- With accepting one’s mortality there’s a need to be remembered
- And calmer now why?
- The feeling of loss finally left me and my heart is full of hope
- The loss is still there, what have you gained?
- Everything I haven’t noticed in the meantime,
the birds in the sky
the salty breeze in July
the promise of winter days
Forgotten as the snow melts away
The moment you know you're shedding your last tear
The excitement of welcoming a new year
The feeling as you spread your arms
embracing the morning light
Your secret whispers to fate every night

your chukles under the sheets

the warm sand under your feet

Sunsets and flowers and smells you love
Missing every moment you were with someone you love
Songs that make you cry and tastes that you crave
Dreams that keep you going and souvenirs you save
Words and faces and kisses and embraces
And a hundred little tunes
A hundred times you hugged the moon
Little freckles and little lines
Scars you carry with you
Armed against the times
A thousand memories that you are
You lose some but you gain yourself
The marvel that you are
I found myself,
While looking I found you too
Not lonely, just left alone
Not away, I just came home…

(pic)

First sign of growing up








when sitting in men's laps puts them to sleep
second sign
when your body can’t catch up with you
when the best part of a late night out is coming back home
when flirting feels merely exhausting and getting men’s attention just irrelevant
when instead of wanting to dance all night, you want to talk and, if ever possible, connect to others..
when you don’t seek approval but you like to surround yourself by social behavior you approve of..
when your 57 year old professor says you became too cynical
The best part of growing up is loving who you are with all the good and the bad and realizing but embracing that it is too late to change and that you like that you can't..

Still on the road...

Still making our way to get there..

How many times i tell you the joy is in the journey

and how many times you say

we live tomorrow but we struggle today..

Tomorrow comes and the day after

and every Spring we dream of summer...

this blog is well over a year now,

nothing has changed

i remember your first post like it was yesterday

and you remember mine

we started this to get closer as you moved away...

i remember,

i remember well..

the first month was exciting. we found our lost love for poetry and writing. we stayed up to chat and comment and we met new people. the second month we started painting. we painted images of the night and of long walks in the park. the third we went on vacations and send letters from far away places. the fourth we shared a taste of what we love. we renewed our promises and we sang for each other. we explored the town day and night. the fifth we turned political and we hurt. the sixth we hurt some more. we bonded over war stories and memories of home. we ran away at first but a cynical world invaded our little virtual life... months followed and we lost it...

when it is all written to be seen and to be evaluated, what remains of the mystery and of the tender privacy of love and life...

i remember but let's start again..

as you always say...

we suffered yesterday and we suffer today

but we live tomorrow...

we live the dream of sunny days

the dream of comfort and calm

the dream of waking up happy

one day...

Under the sun ...

And away..

It has been a blur. Hotels and cabs and airports. Fix a talk here. Interview there. Give a talk here and there. In and between, i found my heaven ...

I can't remember the last time i was this happy...

As it turns out, life can be just amazing!

It is summer here but happy soon-to-be Spring everyone.

Broken Letters ...

Her,
Because she's mourning a lover
and it is the worst thing
to long for a sensation that you know
that you will never have again
you look at your fingertips
as if to summon some of him...
to long for a lover you lost
is to die
is to wake up every morning
chasing the tip of a dream
only to remember a nightmare
the feeling of loss
the deep endless source of numbness...

You,
Your limbs ruffling...
your eyes are open but you can't sleep
and you can't cry
bitterness to everything around you
you can't let people catch a sadness in your looks
you're too proud
your blank face refuses to be dismissed
refuses sympathy
you stray...
windows of white
windows of eternal light
of eternal emptiness
you still can't cry...
you will cry later and,
for now
you will suffer...

And I,
Don't you worry when i go,
you will be taken care of,
I saw the end today, love
I was ready but my only pain
was the image of your lost face
I know my time will precede yours,
and i cannot leave you behind,
the shame of your tears scares me
tonight i will take you in my arms
and we will worry tomorrow....

Pack your heart and leave your memories behind

travel light ...

And the mere exhaustion. Most of what will be too. The trembling shoulders. Moments of truth and trance. Mistakes made by one. Price will be paid by two.
He will come and visit her in the city she loves. He comes to take her back with him one day. His words were always commanding and she embraced the numbing feeling of being helpless in love. She gave in to his will when she had nothing to lose. Little does he know. Things have changed. She now has herself to lose. The gray crude city streets became tenderer than his touch over the years. He doesn’t know that she learned how to hide in the blinding lights more than she could ever hide from his eyes. He doesn’t know that she trembled in his arms more than she did in the cold nights of this strange place and that she never knew loneliness in all the years she lived alone as she did with him.
Drying skin and wet hands. Eyes roaming so fast. Another knot in her heart. Wrapping up and leaving now. How can you leave behind what lives in you? How do you shake off the shear weight of the past?
He said he’s a changed man but when will he truly listen?
Hearts might change but characters don’t…

powered by ODEO

Just pack and leave now...

The city of my heart ...

the people of my heart

and mloukhiyyeh ...

The weather these days
Gha2em joz2iyan …
I miss you too my darling
I don’t have time to think these days
But as soon as I do, I will think of you

Love algorithms ...

There is a delicious inexplicable level of charm in a woman grabbing on to her man, letting down of her guards and being vulnerable. Even the strongest most self-achieved most self-sufficient of us wait for the man who we would want to need. The man we need to need. It is not calculated vulnerability because the risk is never calculated ...

There is a most endearing most exciting feeling in witnessing a man’s attachment to his woman. Even the strongest most detached most nonchalant characters wait for the woman whose arms they can rest their head safely in knowing they’re home and forgetting challenges and pains even for a while. It is not calculated vulnerability because when you give yourself to a woman the risk is never there ...

Planning a life together when seperate worlds have already existed, when personal space and personal habits have already been established and fixed, coming together in shared stuff, shared bed, shared plans and dreams, limitations have to follow, what is gained and what is lost? What will compensate for the compromise? What will define it? What corrections are made to balance back individuality and shifting the equilibrium towards a dual state, is energy lost or gained? And how reversible is the process? Happiness is a tough one to measure ... Then again, that's the calculated risk ...

Remember L.?

"Mirvat:About a week ago I got an email from a distant relative by marriage ----Check it out--I'm sending you the whole chain of communications:"

This relative sends the following message around asking people to think about it!

"Something to think about.
Spanish newspaper
Article on Judaism
ALL EUROPEAN LIFE DIED IN AUSCHWITZ
By Sebastian Vilar Rodrigez

I walked down the street in Barcelona, and suddenly discovered a terrible truth - Europe died in Auschwitz. We killed six million Jews and replaced them with 20 million Muslims. In Auschwitz we burned a culture, thought, creativity, talent. We destroyed the chosen people, truly chosen, because they produced great and wonderful people who changed the world. The contribution of this people is felt in all areas of life: science, art international trade, and above all, as the conscience of the world. These are the people we burned. And under the pretense of tolerance, and because we wanted to prove to ourselves that we were cured of the disease of racism, we opened our gates to 20 million Muslims, who brought us stupidity and ignorance, religious extremism and lack of tolerance, crime and poverty due to an unwillingness to work and support their families with pride. They have turned our beautiful Spanish cities into the third world, drowning in filth and crime. Shut up in the apartments they receive free from the government. And thus, in our misery, we have exchanged culture for fanatical hatred, creative skill for destructive skill, intelligence for backwardness and superstition. We have exchanged the pursuit of peace of the Jews of Europe and their determined clinging to life because life is holy, for those who pursue death, for people consumed by the desire for death for themselves and others, for our children and theirs. What a terrible mistake was made by miserable Europe.

Please forward it on."

L. responds:

"I think it's interesting to note that this kind of stuff always circulates without a link or identifier of the original source. I suspect that some hate group thinks that connecting their anti-Moslem beliefs to some imaginary European source will make it seem more authentic, "cultured" etc and legitimate to "sophisticated", educated Jews in the US.

I think it'simportant to note that Islam is the world's largest religion, meaning that there are millions of quiet, industrious, peaceful family people who consider themselves to be Moslem and who are being gathered together inthese ugly generalizations. Such generalizations are meaningless to me indescribing ANY entire group of people and I consider them to resemble the anti-Semitic cartoons the Nazis used to describe the evil, dirty influences that the Jewish culture had on their "superior, innocent, virtuous Aryan people".

If this is, in fact, a real editorial from a Spanish newspaper, I would say it provides evidence that many (notice that I'm not including ALL Spaniards or Europeans in a sweeping generalization) Europeans--if not just Spaniards--haven't learned from the horrors of the Nazi era about the dangers of such racism but have simply found a new group on which to focus their anger, feelings of insecurity and bigotry. If people don't think carefully about such craziness, we will all soon be reliving the horrors of that period. More likely, I think it is an indication of where much of American (including American Jewish) consciousness, is today. G-d help us!

I would also ask Jews to recall the fact that when the rulers of Spain tossed all non-Christians off of the Iberian peninsula, it was this Moslem culture, primarily, that welcomed and tolerated the Jews and nurtured the likes of the physician named Maimonidees. The history of the European darkages is never presented in this country with the story of the Renaissance that was occurring in the Middle East among the Moslem world. You have to dig for it to realize that it wasn't primarily the catholic monks in Europe who carried the developments of ancient Greece through the dark ages to their continued development in Europe, but the continuing enlightenment in the Arab countries. It clearly suits the needs of some western bigots to forget and bury these facts and present a huge part of the world's population as being just genetically inferior.

Sorry, I'm a scientist and a well-read student of the misuse of science and statistics to rewrite history to foster hatred and bigotry. I don't drink that Koolaid as quickly as many others seem to! I have sought out and found beauty in many other cultures including those that are primarily Moslem and am always disgusted to find privileged, educated Jews who should have learned from history how dangerous it is to buy into such hateful garbage. Because of such a prevalence, I truly fear for my children and the other children of this world; the 21st century seems to be following in the violent footsteps of its predecessor. I hope you'll pass around this alternative view...but I don't expect it.
Sorrowfully yours,
L."

Just like that ..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHasRmKMUIM&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pSEd9K-__g&NR

tlat no2at ...
she always says it so smoothly, right from the heart and straight to the heart. no2ta 3al sater.

Rage (pic)

Many things stress me out, much more i get sad about, some frustrate me but i get angry about few things in life ...
i am happy then sad sometimes my emotions cover the spectrum from the ultra euphoric to the infra vehement depressive in the span of a span. I strut around with a flick and a bounce making staccatos with my stilettos then I grump and I slouch and I hide in my couch. I am bipolar and multipolar and I oscillate with unexpected amplitude and heightened attitudes but I get angry about very few things in life …
I get frustrated with details, with endless altercations, with meaningless compilations, with out of tune personalities. With people who talk too much. With stories with no punch lines. With cabs in Manhattan. With waiting for someone without knowing the time. With waiting for someone and knowing the time. With long lines at the supermarket that the best gossip column can’t divert me from. With people who drive too slow. With people who drive too fast, other than myself. With people who talk on the phone next to me, in any social scene. Now, in loud places and at the movies. I get frustrated with slow computers and slow minds and slow speakers and I’m a slow speaker myself. I get frustrated with being sad, with being happy and with being frustrated, but I get angry about very few things in life …
I get stressed out when I get frustrated …

Anger beyond control is a very rare feeling. It is a very rare exercise of our rights as well when its effects surpass us to affect others. It is a rare exercise because, only when rare, it might be understood, forgiven or even accepted.
I give you the right to be introverted but not to hold grudges, to be a loner but not to hurt, even to be passively rude but not purposefully impolite.
Anger is an emotion we allow ourselves based on feelings of moral superiority, based on being wronged and unfairly treated. Anger has to emanate from a tremendous sense of self and sense of one’s worth and it is a feeling completely emotionally detached from others and from the environment. Most examples of anger, and the reactions that it dictates, are acute and result of a sudden feeling of loss or wrong or accumulated frustration that builds up to a moment of exaggerated hate and the need for retaliation. I truly think that the most balanced of us must be able to fire up in anger once we face a subject of hate. Chronic anger is more characteristic of psychosis and a weak psyche in general. It builds up as a result of delusional paranoia and an overwhelming sense of betrayal by family and society that leads to dangerous self-pity. Chronic hate towards a specific subject might exist in all of us once faced with the subject of our hate. It is a conditioned response that will trigger the same reaction. The threshold to our rage depends on the nature of the trigger and how we internally label it.

Anger is then a personal feeling and in most cases might not be a feeling of the moment.

I understand collective hysteria (an aftermath), collective depression and even collective euphoria. Where does collective chronic anger come from?

I will assume that a whole population has the same reason to be angry about so in this case it is not a personal feeling anymore. I will also assume that this whole population cannot be psychotic so a whole population cannot be angry all the time unless it is under collective hypnosis and a severe manipulation of thoughts masquerading as anger. Whole populations brainwashed to believe that they have been wronged to the same extent by the same entity can undergo a wave of collective hysterical rage.

The reasons to get angry being true or false, a person cannot remain angry for a long time and anger might appease into frustration with time unless that anger comes from chronic hate. When we talk about a whole population being ready to fire up in anger at the same time to the same trigger, we have to be talking about chronic hate.

Do we chronically hate each other?
No leader can fire us up so quickly unless we already hate each other …
That is one of the few things that make me angry and I get angry about very few things in life …

My mama is very depressed

My mom is your typical strong smart do-it-yourself, be fair, treat others like you want them to treat you, always look at the positive (la takraho shay2an 3asaho khayran), always throw your sorrow in a prayer to God, always be patient and all will happen in time, Lebanese woman.

Her life was and is her family and children and now her grandchildren. She believes that work is like religion and she worked hard all her life. She loves to paint and to write and she loves her brother and her country and Rafi2 Hariri.

She was not afraid during all the wars we had and she got us through. She took care of her mother and of us under the shelling and this last bombing she got my sisters and my nephews and even my brother-in-law through.

She believes that every human being is prone to error and should be humble and she raised us to never be afraid when we are right. She liked listening to Nasrallah during the July events saying he made sense back then. She is future movement all the way.

She does not support Nasrallah in the recent developments. She thinks this sort of behavior is fueling our sectarian tension and divide. She is with Sanioura with all what he did and is doing and i respect her views and her opinions and i think we should all respect each other's opinions.

My mama got a threatening phone call today at her work. A person she helped a couple of days ago heard her cursing at all politicians, including Nasrallah. He got her extension, as she later found out, from a colleague and he called her to tell her that if she ever says anything about Nasrallah again .... you figure it out!!

A religious leader who can come up with any fatwa whenever he likes and that people follow blindly like a god is now the leader of opposition. It is one thing to oppose the ruling to get equal representation and equal rights. It's one thing to want to take the country in a different direction, politically. To discourage help from any Arabic country and western country, to discourage talking to other countries, to encourage acts of violence, for people to feel oppressed and not free to talk like we did under Syrian control.. What the hell is going on? Where are we heading? I am against hariri and co to say the least and against the american/israeli control in the region but i never gave anyone the right to sell me to Iran or to Syria. I never want to be afraid to say my opinions outloud ...

She said she's depressed ... I told her it's time to leave ...

Yeah well ...

... And they called it "Black Thursday"

“Killkon 3al yamine tashouf”
“Wa22ef 3ajanab”
“Mabta3ref ana meen wle?”

Shwayyet 7ake rbeena 3leh. It was funny to see it in ‘West Beirut’ but we sure as hell still remember the horror. We remember sleeping in shelters, standing in line for bread and storing water in the tub.
Jarrabna nkoun a7san. Eh sara7a a7san. Jarrabna nkoun la2eddem. Ahlna marabbouna zo3ran bass maba3ref min wein ijo kill hal zo3ran. Hot headed idiots. We ba3den? Maba2 ili 3ein oul baddi irja3. we aswa2 ba3ed, bi ayya 3ein baddi oul la ayya 7adan yirja3? Kirmel shou? We iza ana mish di3ani bil balad, ghayri yimkin di3ano. We asesan shou ya3ni balad iza el 3alam frata? Show ya3ni balad?

“Yalla shou haida balad asesan”
“3am yetkhena2o 3ala ardna”
“hay mou2amara”

wlak tidrabo malla sha3eb. Tidrabo min bein el 3alam. Tidrabo iza bitseero 3alam.

In the midst of this past war lamma kinna 3am ninda3as bilsirmeye i stood up high and said i’m lebanese. Halla2 shou baddi oul? Shi biya22es we shi bikhajjel. We lashou mabaddon ykassro? Ykassro.. asesan byistehalo ba3od we makharjon balad.

Kiss ikhto malla balad.

Labadde ghanne 3al e7doud wala yashaware3 wala 3alliha 3alli 3alliha. Wattiha khayye bikoun a7san. Wattiha we yaret btiksirha abel matmedda 3ala khayyak we khayye.

El lubnan sayabka… wlak ayya lubnan?

You said, “this is Beirut that you keep defending? Do you now understand why I say Dubai is my country? Do you see why I gave up?...”
You won… I give up …


powered by ODEO

Bonjour tristesse ...

I look at the ceiling. I look to the skies. No more balconies to transcend into …
No more windows to append one’s hurt … All I see is empty roads and empty skies.
And I dream of places far away. I feel tight and stuck and out of breath, and now I drown in my own uncertainty. The cold dark desk is killing me and San Juan is calling ...

powered by ODEO
And I don’t dream about you every night and I don’t love you anymore… and I don’t hide you in my thoughts and I don’t smile to you once a day. no and I don’t need to see your eyes and I don’t pray for you every step of the way. And i don't love, why should i love ...

powered by ODEO
Squinting eyes and smirking lines
and thin lips are all I see
Unkind nonchalance is all I feel,
except for my warm blood.
Thoughts stomping through
my head
raging boiling imploding,
spreading darkness
in my gut
translating through my limbs,
abrupt gestures.
Angry looks exploding
at the last hour
and now easing through
appeasing through,
as the warm grains
of darkness eat me through,
only to leave blankness
of heart
numbness of feelings
fault of proper reaction
short of understanding …
A state of non-existence
has to be more noble
than a state of hardly existing
than anger beyond self-control,
than a state of constant sorrows …
I don’t see the light and I don’t see the end,
and I don’t see a point of tomorrow …

Avec toute la tendresse du monde ...
Je t’embrasse et je te laisse ...

And here it goes ...

Three taps on a glass and grains of water on pale dunes.
Her rhythmic cycle uncouples falls out of phase out of tune,
suddenly, all the mistakes of a lifetime align in mockery --
the facts melt the details turn in a daze of reverie …

A tap on her back sends shivers down her soul to freeze
The weight of the world presses on her crumbling knees
She looks for her own reaction in a moment of stupor,
Her body rendered stiff gelled on her feet like an armor.

And a mystical touch of fortune and the tales of the days,
Green the color of his soul piercing glistening auburn rays.
Was it the magic of the night or was it the stories to tell --
Was it original madness taste of sin or was it a spell to expel?

Come to my heart come to my arms come beside my eyes,
She said, come sad come joyful come a blessing to the skies
With all the tenderness of the world and with all that she is
She wore her coat took her ring off and gave him a goodbye kiss …

Here it goes ...
Life …

3anjad de2 khil2na


powered by ODEO

Not just sick and tired of the politicians and the fights and the despair and the keeping in mind anything but people’s businesses and lives and struggles, I’m sick and tired of me and you. I’m sick of the sound of my own complaints and opinions and ‘solutions’ and I’m sick of the arguments and the bickering and the weak spirit. Honestly I’m sick of Lebanese issues. I have been since I was born. I always defend my country and its people. I truly appreciate a lot about our culture. I love the spontaneity and the warmth and the passion. However, with spontaneity comes rudeness, with warmth come intensity and intrusiveness and lack of respect for personal space and personal lives and with passion come anger and fits and lack of tolerance. We’re sexist and racist and judgmental. We’re lazy and crazy and we’re always right and we’re all the victims of the world and history and society. The country is not good enough for us, the government is always the reason for all of our shortcomings and the world is against us. We also think we’re God’s gift to the earth wherever we are, we are competitive unkind and we act superior. Most of us are freeloaders and the rest complain. We all want to leave our country because it’s not good enough and when we do we all act superior wherever we are and want to go back, only then to act superior around our countrymen because we live abroad. A lot of us care about money and appearances more than decency and empathy and the real beauty of friendship and love and helping others. We are a country stuck at high school. A lot of our women are hysterical prima-donnas and a lot of the men chauvinistic aholes. Any 14 year old thinks he or she understands the world more than anyone else does. We all need to leave the country and exist on our own for a couple of years to get in touch with who we really are and to get a dose of reality. I’m sick of us. I’m sick of the tekbeer ras. De2 khil2i. I had missed Lebanon for the longest time but I have been reminded of all that lately and I think I’m good for a while.

De3an hal balad feekon we feena ...

sem7ouna ...

Chic chac choc ...

(pic. from downtownbeirut.com)

The dream of a global citizen

Too bad no human will survive to witness it. By the rate we're going, no human will survive to witness the next century.

NAEIM GILADI’S BANNED BOOK (thanks Rhiannon)
Ben Gurion's Scandals: How the Haganah and The Mossad eliminated Jews

Banned in Israel and the United States, Iraqi-born Jew Naeim Giladi’s book is again available worldwide. Buy it from this website.

“After reading Mr. Giladi’s devastating first-hand account of Zionist pillaging and massacres even of other Jews when necessary, it is not surprising that the book was banned,”states Carol Adler, president of Dandelion Books.

Giladi reports about the crimes committed by Zionists in their frenzy to import raw Jewish labor from the Middle East. Newly-vacated farmlands had to be plowed to provide food for the immigrants and the military ranks had to be filled with conscripts to defend the stolen lands.

States Giladi: “I write this book to tell the American people, and especially the American Jews, that Jews from Islamic lands did not emigrate willingly to Israel; that, to force them to leave, Jews killed Jews; and that, to buy time to confiscate ever more Arab lands, Jews on numerous occasions rejected genuine peace initiatives from their Arab neighbors.

I write about what the first prime minister of Israel called ‘cruel Zionism.’ I write about it because I was a part of it. “Alex de Tocqueville once observed that it was easier for the world to accept a simple lie than a complex truth. Certainly it has been easier for the world to accept the Zionist lie that Jews were evicted from Muslim lands because of anti-Semitism, and that Israelis, never the Arabs, were the pursuers of peace. The truth is far more discerning; bigger players in the world stage were pulling the strings.”

Giladi adds: “These players, I believe, should be held accountable for their crimes, particularly when they willfully terrorized, dispossessed and killed innocent people on the altar of some ideological imperatives.“We Jews did not leave our ancestral homes because of any natural enmity between Jews and Muslims. And we Arabs--and I say Arab because that is the language my wife and I still speak at home—we Arabs on numerous occasions have sought peace with the State of the Jews.

“And finally, as a U.S. citizen and taxpayer....we Americans need to stop supporting racial discrimination in Israel and the cruel expropriation of lands in the West Bank, Gaza, South Lebanon and the Golan Heights.”

An Israeli Defense of Jimmy Carter
by John Nichols-- The Nation, Jan 09, 07

"There is an ugly cynicism to the attack on Jimmy Carter that has been launched by Americans who well recognize that the former president's newbook, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, says nothing that has not already been said about the Middle East conflict by Israeli politicians and commentators. So why is Carter, a longtime friend of Israel and the Jewish people, being smeared as an anti-Semite for suggesting that the occupation by Israeli forces of Palestinian territory inspires troubling comparisons with the apartheid system that white South Africans once imposed on their country's black majority?

One of Israel's most prominent political figures suggests that it has a lotto do with the determination of Carter's critics to allow their emotions to trump the facts."The trouble is that their love of Israel distorts their judgment and blinds them from seeing what's in front of them," argues Shulamit Aloni, a veteran of Israel's war of independence who went on to serve in the Knesset and as aminister in several Israeli cabinets. "Israel is an occupying power that for 40 years has been oppressing an indigenous people, which is entitled to a sovereign and independent existence while living in peace with us."

In a defense of Carter penned for the mass-circulation Israeli newspaper Yediot Acharonot, the woman who served as former Prime Minister Yitzak Rabin's education minister wrote that, "Indeed apartheid does exist here." "The U.S. Jewish establishment's onslaught on former President Jimmy Carter is based on him daring to tell the truth which is known to all: through its army, the government of Israel practises a brutal form of Apartheid in the territory it occupies," explains Aloni. "Its army has turned every Palestinian village and town into a fenced-in, or blocked-in, detention camp. All this is done in order to keep an eye on the population's movements and to make its life difficult. Israel even imposes a total curfew whenever the settlers, who have illegally usurped the Palestinians' land, celebrate their holidays or conduct their parades."

Aloni should be reminded that the battering of Carter has as frequently come from non-Jews as Jews in the U.S. But, with that clarification, her message is one that merits serious attention from Americans who are frustrated by this country's inability to engage in a serious discussion about Middle East policy.This does not mean that everyone must agree with Aloni's every point. A recipient of the Israel Prize, the highest honor awarded by her country's government, the internationally-respected parliamentarian has long been acritic of Israeli policies toward the Palestinians. Some will disregard her remarks for that reason. Others who respect Aloni's history may disagree with her current critique. But no one who has followed Israeli affairs can doubt that she speaks for a meaningful number of her countrymen and women when she defends Carter.

In fact, the website of the Israeli peace group Gush Shalom recently featured a call for visitors to" "Please consider adding your voices to those who are grateful to Jimmy Carter for writing a brave and important book, Peace Not Apartheid. While the media tries to blank him out, and some would cast aspersions at President Carter for being 'anti-Israel,' in fact the book offers much needed wisdom about how to support a just peace in Israel and Palestine."Aloni and Gush Shalom certainly do not speak for all Israelis. But their response to Carter's book should be instructive for Americans. It is not necessary to share all of Aloni's views to recognize that the veteran of the Hagana paramilitary organization that fought for Israeli independence has done a service not only to Carter but to all Americans who would like to see this country engage in an honest dialogue about MiddleEast affairs. While Israel enjoys a reasonably vibrant debate with regard to how the Jewish state should relate to Palestine, the United States suffers from a crude and dysfunctional discourse about the same question. The attacks on Jimmy Carter highlight just how ugly and dishonest that discourse has become. Perhaps that is why Shulamit Aloni's pointed response to those attacks is so important. It took an Israeli to remind us of how much more realistic the dialogue could -- and should -- be."

I think he's funny... simple but funny

Dear Mr. President: Send Even MORE Troops (and you go, too!) ...
from Michael Moore
1/10/07

Dear Mr. President,Thanks for your address to the nation. It's good to know you still want to talk to us after how we behaved in November.
Listen, can I be frank? Sending in 20,000 more troops just ain't gonna do the job. That will only bring the troop level back up to what it was last year. And we werel osing the war last year! We've already had over a million troops serve some time in Iraq since 2003. Another few thousand is simply not enough to find those weapons of mass destruction! Er, I mean... bringing those responsible for 9/11 to justice! Um, scratch that. Try this -- BRING DEMOCRACY TO THE MIDDLE EAST! YES!!!You've got to show some courage, dude! You've got to win this one! C'mon, you got Saddam! You hung 'im high! I loved watching the video of that -- just like the old wild west! The bad guy wore black! The hangmen were as crazy as the hangee! Lynch mobs rule!!!

Look, I have to admit I feel very sorry for the predicament you're in. As Ricky Bobby said, "If you're not first, you're last." And you being humiliated in front of the whole world does NONE of us Americans any good. Sir, listen to me. You have to send in MILLIONS of troops to Iraq, not thousands! The only way to lick this thing now is to flood Iraq with millions of us! I know that you're out of combat-ready soldiers -- so you have to look elsewhere! The only way you are going to beat a nation of 27 million -- Iraq -- is to send in at least 28 million! Here's how it would work: The first 27 million Americans go in and kill one Iraqi each. That will quickly take care of any insurgency. The other one million of us will stay and rebuild the country. Simple.

Now, I know you're saying, where will I find 28 million Americans to go to Iraq?Here are some suggestions:

1. More than 62,000,000 Americans voted for you in the last election (the one that took place a year and half into a war we already knew we were losing). I am confident that at least a third of them would want to put their body where there vote was and sign up to volunteer. I know many of these people and, while we may disagree politically, I know that they don't believe someone else should have to go and fight their fight for them -- while they hide here in America.

2. Start a "Kill an Iraqi" Meet-Up group in cities across the country. I know this idea is so early-21st century, but I once went to a Lou Dobbs Meet-Up and, I swear, some of the best ideas happen after the third mojito. I'm sure you'll get another five million or so enlistees from this effort.

3. Send over all members of the mainstream media. After all, they were your collaborators in bringing us this war -- and many of them are already trained from having been "embedded!" If that doesn't bring the total to 28 million, then draft all viewers of the FOX News channel.

Mr. Bush, do not give up! Now is not the time to pull your punch! Don't be a weenie by sending in a few over-tired troops. Get your people behind you and YOU lead them in like a true commander in chief! Leave no conservative behind! Full speed ahead!

We promise to write.
Go get 'em W!
Yours,
Michael Moore

... ouwaa

A useful comparison

I could not help while watching the funeral for the late president Ford to draw the comparison. I was wondering what kind of crimes did the late president commit and which, of these crimes, are already declassified. No one argues. Saddam was a terrible terrible man, but as always, I could not but feel humiliated at the idea of an Arabic politician/leader/dictator/butcher being executed, at the first day of the Muslim holiday no less, and an American politician/leader/dictator/butcher being honored and well remembered. The article answers my questions.

On a different note,
In response to a simple question to an Israeli commentator by mone which was if he thought the war on Lebanon this past summer was a crime against humanity, the Israeli point of view was that the Israeli government owes it to its people to defend the borders against any act of war. If that is the case, i wonder why governments do not owe an explanation to their people when they start an act of war or an act of invading another country or occupying foreign land. Americans do not blame Iraqis when they attack their troops. How come Israelis don't pressure their government to withdraw from the occupied lands? They encourage their leaders to defend them against acts of resistance. Why not encourage their government to eliminate the reasons that brought on this resistance in the first place? Ho come they don't hold their leaders accountable? I don't get it.

Only those New York nights ...



Make it bearable ...

powered by ODEO

Thesis done!



and print ..

Morning coffee with the counsel general

The flag comes peeking off of 5th avenue, after a short strut on, what seems to be, the most detached block in New York city. The upper east in its cold clean monotonous feel always reminds me that I am in a foreign country. The early hours seem to be the dog-walking hours. It resembles a dance out of an old musical. It is almost surreal in its denial. It is surreal in its suburban defiance contrasting the jolt of the city of misfits and the city of colors and sounds. It is deafening in its brightness and coldness. You almost want to walk up facing one of the park-facing condo royalties and see if they were for real. The flag comes peeking off of 5th. Our little consulate in the heart of Manhattan is nothing like the foreign upper stretch on the west of the park. The golden numbers marking the addresses guarded by those ridiculously dressed doormen disappear under the flag. A modest garden surrounds the plain aluminum windows. A rusty doorbell that consists of a white bump of plastic oddly reminds me of many tasteless Lebanese official buildings. Sure enough, I peak through the window and Gaby buzzed me in. A small room, a coffee table in the middle with an Arabic yellow page book that Tarek made and some magazines, a sad plant in the corner and a glass partition. A typical minimalist décor of the inside of a Lebanese official building.
- Hi Gaby
- Hi. Waynik ya 3ammi. We missed you on New Year’s Eve. We were all there.
- Yeah, been busy …
I met Gaby a year ago. I hated him at first. He had just left Lebanon and hasn’t been tamed yet. He still had the macho attitude. It has been a year and he seems to have adapted.
- wein el rayess?
- I’ll call him for you
His unmistakable smile
- Monsieur Harake, bonjour, keefak?
- Ahla Mirvat. Gaby Start her papers, we don’t want her to be late.
- Kint 3am teb3ak 3al CNN with Paula Zahn. Bayyadtellna wejna.
- Tislameh. Tinzakar we matn3ad. Please, tfaddaleh rte7e bilmaktab 3abel the coffee to be ready.
- Thank you
His office is a full-furnished all-oak very pretentious all Lebanese office. As every year, I sit in the comfy leather chair behind the oversized desk and he asks me,
- What do you want to ask me?
- What do you know about the situation back home? Any inside news?
- I don’t know a thing more than you do. I heard from Tarek you’re going back
- Yes. So what do you recommend?
- Not to.
- Ouf. Why?
- There are certain things you have to keep in mind
- Such as?
- See how you are dressed right now. Casual, a cap and no manicure. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re a fantastic lady but, well, this won’t work in Lebanon. People still care about their appearances. Men and women. It’s suffocating. Also, people are never really judged by who they are. You know how it is.. Who you know and what you have ...
- I am always good with the who you know part ... See I know you and it’s why my passport will be done in a couple of minutes. What’s wrong with that? I like the perks of it …
We go on talking about the social, the economical and the political pros and cons of here and there. He points out that he had lived in the US for 8 years, that this country is good to have a small business or to get education out of. He reminds me that life needs a balance and that I should stop working too hard.
- I respect girls who are serious about their careers, but you should know when to put your life first.
- Yes of course. That’s why I’m moving back. It’s the sparkle left in my eyes. It’s my secret happy place.
- Yes? I think you should stay here. I, on the other hand, am moving to Japan.
- Japan? Are you going to like living there?
- Yes I loved it there. I just went with the Sanioura convoy and I loved it.
- Hmmm ... Japan!
Gaby comes in with the papers and gets the final signature.
- Ok here’s your passport
- Thank you. I’ll be going then
- Stay. Finish your coffee.
- I have an early day. Yalla.
- See you next year?
- In Japan or in Lebanon?
- Here
- Yes

(pic, Puerto Rico)

C’est quoi l’amour?



It’s the only thing you can’t live without
It’s not being sure of anything but one thing
It’s going against all odds
It’s the one thing you don’t need to discuss
The one thing you don’t think over ...
Oh yes, and …
Drama drama drama …

(pic, Wilfrid Hoffacker)

.....

Papa

Happy 2006!

My baby hates the sound of my nails clicking on the keyboard. He loves the sound of the key when I come home
He knows landmarks in my memory that unlock a world of dreams and happiness and nostalgia. He knows when to evoke them.
He knows my weaknesses as much as he does my strengths. He loves both.
He makes fun of me when I get angry but helpless. He makes me angry and he makes me helpless.
He interrupts my conversation onthe phone to tell me if I put the phone in my mouth, his voice will resonate in my head. He's right. It does
He thinks homing is a word. He says it indicates a state of existence softer than roaming. I think subjacent is a word.
He invented a new board game. I can’t tell you what it is. He actually wants to patent it.
He loves to cook. He promised he will leave the cooking to me.
He thinks he shouldn’t have to go to work. I agree with him.
He thinks smoking is not cool anymore and wants me to quit. He bought me a hookah.
He says I almost have two opposite sides to my personality. He hasn’t seen the other sides yet.
He says I have a horrible singing voice. I sing all the time when he’s around.
He thinks yellow should only be worn on Halloween, horizontal stripes never work and vertical stripes are dangerous. He has an eye for fashion but he wears sweats.
He told me my nose ring is hideous. He then said worse is the mark left behind.
He doesn’t want to have babies, ever. He thinks he’s a baby himself.
He thinks I can’t commit because I’m a free spirit. He thinks we match because he’s a free spirit too. I think it’s his way of telling me he wants an open relationship.
His best memory of me is dancing on the crocodile table. That was ten years ago.
He says his happiness is what matters the most. He says i'm his happiness.
He says we’re still 28 not 29. 2006 did not count because we were apart. We’re celebrating the new 2006 year this year.