Death, The Tower ,The Hermit and Myself.

I think I was 18 when I was first introduced to my psychic abilities...when I was younger I used to foresee bad things happening to people but not to me (damn..nothing is ever perfect) . Then a good friend of mine introduced me to the Tarot cards.

For all of you non-metaphysical people out there,Tarot cards have been used for ages to tell fortunes and predict the future as well as telling the reader things about themselves.

So I learned all the card spreads,read all the books,bought the cards and set out for wonderful experience of learning about myself and others in the process.

What I started as a joke came out to bite me where the sun don't shine.

What I said to people was true so I started having cult followers in my family and friends.

people started suggesting I even should get paid for it and I therefore created one rule.

no predicting the future.just reminding the "client" of how they are and how they should relate to themselves and needs later on in life. But that didn't meant that 99% of the time I saw ugly things I just didn't want to say to the people I loved.

still I am beginning to feel awful,having the talent is wonderful but not when I break someone's heart by saying that their loved one IS not there for them.

You see,I can see the future and the future is never fully lit by sunshine and I hate to be the one pointing out the gloom.

say what you will about people who see the future but If I have a 50% chance of being true and someone just says "you were right,he was cheating on me " or "you were right,she did leave after all".

I feel then that I have added pain on top of pain,not only will that person suffer now,they will forever remember that they had known earlier and should have done something to prevent it.

Today i have ventured and lay the cards for myself -usually means bad luck but in my case I could not be more unlucky even if i tried.

And i saw him.
I saw myself weeping.
I could hear my heart breaking.
I could see him moving on.
I saw him thinking of me wondering about what could have happened.
And I saw his confusion.
I also saw my inner strength.
My charm,All my possibilities.

In the end I saw the card of Death and the Tower and the Hermit.

Death is the card of loss and new beginnings

The Tower is the card of Disillusion,Revelation and realizing hidden truths.

The Hermit is the card of Solitude .

for the first time I didn't dare ask myself for the meaning.

for I am afraid of being right.

An Ode To Hope

I apologize for the inconvenience I am about to bring you.

But this is not about you.

It is about me.

I am getting back on track.

I admit it.

I am loving it.

I love the creativeness, the flow of things I have always loved about myself.

I love the fact that I have come to see things as they truly are and should be.

But I have reached the end of my Rope.

I have no hope anymore.

I had hoped you would change.

That you would come to realize how much I mean to you.

That I would be the one to move on and that you would strive to reach me before it is too late.

But you are too smart for that.

You choose your moments.

You know exactly my weak points.

And then you go for them.

And my hope gets the best of me all over again.

They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world. Someone to love, something
to do, and something to hope for

Well,

I have found my calling at last.

I know how hard it is going to be,

But I am going for it.

I have something to do.

I have more than one person to love and be loved by.

But I have to come out and say it.

You have taken my something to hope for.

And instead of my series of apologies. I will thank you.

For teaching me that living only on hope is a last solution.

And I still have many options other than hope.

After all, the best is not yet to come.

The best is yet for me to bring.

And believe me, I will bring it.

For you should never mess with someone who has no hope.

And dear Hope ,go bite the dust.

You never brought anything anyway.

انا مش بنت عذراء

في يوم من ذوات الايام.....كنت فاضية شويتين فقررت اقرأجريدة معارضة شهيرة على سبيل التغيير.

وطالعني (حلوة طالعني دي) خبر لطيف جدا نبهني لحاجة عمري ماخدت بالي منها قبل كده.

الخبر كان عنوانه "فتاة تعرض بكارتها للبيع بخمسة ملايين دولار"

طالبة امريكية قررت تبيع السهم الوحيد اللي ليه قيمة في حياتها عشان تصرف على دراستها.

وبما ان الانسة محترمة وضميرها صاحي قررت تضيف شهادة معتمدة من طبيب نساء وولادة محترم يشهد فيه انها لم يسبق لها ممارسة الجنس وان غشاء بكارتها زي الفل ولم يتم ترميمه او تجديده او الاضافة اليه.

وعرض رجل اعمال استرالي تقديم خمسة ملايين دولار امريكي مقابل هذا الشرف العظيم.

انا بس عندي كام سؤال.

انا بنت عندي 26 سنة ومتعلمة ومثقفة وحلوة ومحترمة ودمي خفيف وكل حاجة. وعذراء.

والحمد لله قابلت اكثر من حد عبر عن اعجابه بيا وبشخصيتي وده طبعا قبل اعلان "خليك راجل واشرب بريل"

سيبك من انا عندي دين وضمير ووعدت اهلي اني احافظ على نفسي عشان ابن المحظوظة اللي حيجي يشيل.
وسيبك من الازمة الاقتصادية الطاحنة اللي بتخلي الناس تبيع ولادها.
مش دي القضية.
انا بس صعبان عليا نفسي وصعبان عليا بنات جيلي والجيل اللي قبلي كمان.
اشمعني احنا بنقعد ندور على حد يقدر هذا السهم بس ويحترمه ويحترمنا بالمرة.
طيب مهو كلنا محافظين على عذريتنا بس بنضطر نستحمل الفصال في مشاريع الجواز واخرة اي واحدة فينا شبكة ذهب (واحيانا دبلة بس) ومهر اهالينا حيدفعوا اضعافه عشان يجيبوا مستلزمات هذا الحدث العالمي من مراتب وفوط وملايات وستاير وخلافه.
طيب حيقولوا ان الحكاية في بلاد الغرب بقت نادرة مما يرفع من قيمة سهم العذرية.
جميل.
ليه السهم ده ملوش معالم في مصر.
يشترط وجوده برغم ان الصفقة كلها غالبا مبتجيبش همها.
هو اصلا دليل على ايه؟
لازمته ايه؟
يعني من الاخر الرجل بيقعد يتنطط ويشترط عذرية الجاموسة الي جاي يشتريها لكن وبعدين مهو اخره كام يعني....100 الف جنيه...
مش لاعبة.
انا مش اقل منها في حاجة...بالعكس على الاقل اي بنت مصرية محترمة مش حتقدم غشاء بكارتها بس.

طب اشمعنى.
ليه هناك حتى حكاية العذرية دي بتتقدر واحنا هنا بنقدم حاجات كتير ومش حتتقدر خالص على الاغلب.
طب انا مش لاعبة.
انا مش حقيسها بالحب والعشرة وبس.

 انا ابويا صرف عليا كتير قوي ومش فلوس بس. صرف عليا حب وحنية واحترام. احترمني كانثى ليها دماغها ومشاعرها وحقوقها. علمني اشغل دماغي عشان مخدش على دماغي.
وانا الصراحة مش عاجبني ان حتى الحاجة الوحيدة اللي الزوجة الكويسة بتتباع بيها هنا ببتاخد عندنا بالرخيص.
انا مش حتباع بالرخيص. وحرفض ان فكرة عذريتي تتناقش اصلا.
من هنا ورايح الرد الوحيد حيبقى "انت مالك؟ "
انا غالية اوي.
لان المصنع اللي انتجني مش اي مصنع وصاحب الشركة مبخلش على المنتج اللي طلعه وطلعه منتج زي الفل.

انا مش سهم واحد بس . انا مش شوية دم وخلاص.

انا بيت واستقرار وحب وعشرة وعيال وحاستحمل فقر وبهدلة وقلة ذوق وقلة قيمة وكل حاجة.

حاكبر وحاعلم وحاستحمل افكار غريبة وحموات اغرب.
حيتحول يومي الى 20 ساعة عمل متواصل بين شغلي وبيتي بالاضافة الى إسعاد تاجر المواشي اللي جه شال ببلاش تقريبا.

انا مش بنت عذراء بس. وشرفي مش نقطتين دم. انا شرفي في اخلاقي وطباعي وديني. في البيت اللي حبنيه واحافظ عليه وشرف ابويا في ان مفيش راجل لمسني حتى لو بحبه. شرف ابويا واللي حيتجوزني هو اللي بيخليني اسافر واشتغل وهو ينام وفي بطنه بطيخه صيفي.

طيب....ايه رأيكو بقى ان من هنا ورايح انا برضه حأطالب بحاجات في البني ادم اللي حيشيل.

انا عايزة دليل على شرفه.

عايزة اعرف ان عمره ملمس واحدة مش مراته حتى لو هي موافقة. وان عمره ما فضح سر واحدة وعمره محكم على واحدة من لبسها او مشيتها او تغطيتها لشعرها بس.

عايزة اعرف ان عمري ماحكون نايمة في بيتي وهو بره مع واحدة تانية.

الحكاية بسيطة...مشيها بنظام البورصة.
سهمي الوحيد مش عذريتي. انا عندي اسهم كتير قوي.
بيت واهل وثقافة وسمعة وتعليم وشغل وخبرة في الحياة وقادرة اني احب واتحب وقادرة اني افتح بيت واربي بنات عذراوات بجد اعلمهم يرفضوا يتباعوا على انهم سهم في بورصة حقيرة محصلتش حتى CASE 30.

من الاخر. مش احنا في ثورة وازمة اقتصادية وظروف منيلة وبتاع؟

انا بقى مش بايعة. وحوقف تداولي في السوق لغاية ما السوق يتعدل.
اسهمي وانا حرة فيها.

Just an Observation

7:50 am

I wake up,groggy from the sleepless night and weakened by the pill popping.

I wash my face, I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize me anymore.

I don’t care.

I wear whatever is clean, I pick my bag, take the elevator, Said, the new doorman, smiles and says goodmorning. I mumble something in the same context and head for the cab.

There is always a begger around the corner, in 12 years, she has been there and I have never given her money, I have always felt she is a professional one and I don’t feel right about giving money to her kind.

The Nile meets me with its still water , I always look the other way, no reason, just an observation.

Before I reach the Moneeb bridge, there is the HSBC new building, a group of Koreans are always walking inside the building, three guys and one girl, why on earth would we be hiring Asians when we have this rate of unemployment is beyond me, no reason, just an observation.

Two blocks down, a young woman is always getting into her car, she always wears short skirts, she has ugly hairy legs, I know this for a fact because the wind always blows her skirt up, she never seems to mind, I can’t find a reason, it is just an observation.

There is a bridal shop right beneath the bridge, It has beautiful dresses, the window display is changed every day, the theme is usually one color, I make a point to see the display every day, it is something that makes me smile, no reason, just an observation.

When I reach the building at work, I always arrive at around 8:30, I always wait for the elevator with a man who always looks me up and down in disgust, and he always steps into the other elevator or wait for the next one, I always get into the elevator smiling at his attitude, no reason, just an observation.

Eight hours of laughter, arguments and work will pass, on the ride home, I will be looking at miserable looking people trying to catch a ride home, I will be thankful for getting back to maadi, I smile when I see the nile again and I observe its water all the way home, again, no reason, just an observation.

My mum always smiles with relief when I walk in, then she tells me every single little thing that has happened when I was not there, it always irritates me, she never ceases, I never complain, I smile and I go to my room, no reason, just smiling.

I will go to my favorite café, I will play tarneeb and drink coffee, I will go to the doctor (one of them anyways), I will go home tired, and I will always stand at my building’s entrance for a moment ,at 10 pm every night, I take in a deep breath, wish my beloved trees good night, no reason ,just an observation.

I will get into bed, take my antibiotic du jour, my anti depressant du jour and my pain killer du jour, I read for 20 minutes, write for another twenty. Then sleep dreamlessly. I always do that, no reason, just an observation.

For no reason I will wake up at 3:15 and again at 6:03, no reason, just an observation.

Here is the thing, at all these moments, I always think of you, just your face.

No reason, Just an observation.

A hint of an impossible dream!

Forget about everything…. Sit down in silence….want nothing…think of nothing…

Now breathe slowly…allow yourself to drift away….

Forget about what everyone would say, do or expect…

Now think of this…

A warm home, a house with simple furniture…warm colors… nothing too flashy or expensive….

A true loving home expects you every day,

The moment you step inside, the smell of homemade food welcomes you inside, to my open arms.

I would be there to welcome you home, happy because you simply exist in my life, my arms will rest around you for a minute, assuring you, taking away all the heartache and the mundane chatter of work.

Never worry, you are home.

“A warm shower then dinner, how does that sound?” I whisper into your ears.

Ten minutes later, you step into the dining room, to find your favorite food, prepared with love, not
because I have to but because I want to.

You spend a couple of hours finishing up work, I will sit and read a book and catch up on news, with one eye on you, not because I need anything but because I love looking at you.

There is something about your face when you are concentrating that makes my heart skip a beat.

Moments later we are in bed, do you notice that our hands always seem to find their places on each
other’s bodies, never fumbling, never lost or confused, never shy….we seem to belong together. I reach for you, desperate to catch the smell of your skin, and our lips meet, you have always said there is something about my lips but I have always thought that that something is your lips on mine. That is simply it.

Our hectic days of fast innocent fun are behind us, making love is never hurried anymore, we take our sweet time exploring and devouring and learning, and we never cease to amaze each other. Our bodies move in astonishing harmony, you always read my mind, and I always know what you want. It is never planned nor an obligation. We actually like being together.

You whisper sweet dirty words that only I understand, and I whisper things that turn you wild, when it is all over, your head finds its rightful place on my chest, we always have a naked silent moment in each other’s arms, wanting nothing, saying nothing. At that moment I want to tell you how much I love you, but I never do, words are pointless when I am around you. You never expect it anyway, deep down you know it all.

You will drift asleep in my arms, I will wake you for work, make breakfast and coffee for you, watch you dress for work, make sure your tie is on properly.

I watch you leave and my body is already aching for you, my eyes aching for your face, my nostrils
ache for the smell of your skin.

I will go to work thinking of you, life kicks in, everything ever changing but one thing, My love for you.

Now come back to reality, and think….was that so bad, so very bad?

You tell me.

So Much it Hurts

In between feverish fits of semi-sleep, you know, where your brain is racing, your eyes are sore, your body is aching, you are dying to sleep but it is just not happening, anyway, in those fits, one sentence kept echoing through my mind “I miss you so much it hurts”

I really do not remember where I had heard that sentence, which film? Which star? Which song? I remember it was a man and I remember that this sentence had always puzzled me, simply because when I was younger, I prided myself on my ability to rationalize my flow of feelings, things-in my stupid somewhat idiotic opinion back then- did not have to hurt if you could control them.

Now it is different, love hurts, rejection hurts, acceptance hurts, negotiations hurt, lack of inspiration hurts, expectations hurt. On an average I was starting to feel soul-ache every day on a span of two to three hours at once.

Now why is this related to “I miss you so much it hurts” is not making much sense to me yet. All those feelings to me are based on a missing basis,

Love did not hurt; it is missing that person in question. Rejection does not hurt; it is missing the feeling of acceptance. Acceptance does not hurt; it is missing the fact that the person accepting you is not the one you want.

Negotiations do not hurt; it is missing the feeling that you are of more worth to the extent that you should not negotiate to begin with. Lack of inspiration does not hurt; it is missing days when inspiration is flowing like an endless river. Expectations do not hurt; it is missing the guts to meet those expectations, missing days when you were fearless and worry-less.

You might be wondering, so why would you be dwelling on things you miss? And I would tell you, because I am honest, because when I was a kid I was told that it is always healthy to speak of what you feel, people are entitled to their opinions but you are always entitled to your emotions.

Right now, on May 6th, 2011. When I am 26 years, 6 months and 17 days old, I miss a lot of things so much it hurts.

I miss my grandfather’s garden so much it hurts. I miss my grandmother’s soft braiding of chocolate brown locks so much it hurts. I miss my walks with my father every Saturday evening around maadi, so much it hurts. I miss feeling happy so much it hurts.

I miss loving my country so much it hurts. I miss having loyal loving supportive friends so much it hurts. I miss butterflies in my stomach so much it hurts. I miss good books so much it hurts. I miss hoping for the future so much it hurts. I miss getting dressed up and feeling pretty so much it hurts. I miss feeling truly healthy so much it hurts. I miss not having to put up an act so much it hurts.

I miss my soul so much it hurts. Over and out.