في الطريق إلى فيروز، وهل فيروز ستأتي إلينا؟

أبحث عن شرقي في غُربتي مرةً تلو الأُخرة.

فاسافر إلى هولندا، لأجدها في صوت فيروز اللتي في أيام مضت لم تبعد عني اكثر من ساعتين، لكن الوصول إليها مستحيل...مستحيل.

أما الان، في الغرب فاقترب من شرقي، وفيروز لا تأبه ثانية بلون بطاقة جنسيتي ولا تهتم بسياسات ملطخة بدماء الأبرياء، فهي للجميع تغني وللجميع تحزن ومع الجميع تبتهج.

إثارة تحيط قلبي، إثارة في عيناي وصُلبي. فأنا وبعد خمس وثلاثون سنه، سأحظى بتحقيق حلم، يتمناه كل عربي، سأحظى بمشاهدة وسماع ديفا العصر، سيدة الكل فيروز!

وبإيحائك أكتب هذه السطور...

أَعشَقُ عُروبَتي في آلغربِ

أَشْتاقُ إِلَيْها، أَحِنُّ...أَجِنُّ

أَشعُرُ بفَخْرٍ...بكِبْرياءْ

أَشعُرُ كَأَنِّي أُداعَبُ آلسَّماءْ

أمَّا فَفي شَرْقِيَ

فإنَّني أَكرَهُها...أَمْتَعِضُها

أَشعُرُ أَنَّها تُقَيِّدُ يَدايا

وتَمنَعُني آلهواء

 

كوبنهاجن-أمستردام 

٢٤.٦.٢٠١١

Christmas supermarket

Today, after work, I went for a cup of coffee at the preferred neighborhood cafe. It was weird. I was all alone with the Barista man. Dark outside (even though 16:30 - yes today I left early), candles light inside, and a perfect coffee temperature. Sitting on the bar, next to the window, all exposed to the outside world,  all alone, with my bitter coffee and sweet thoughts.

I was awakened from my dark day dream,  in order to join in for a supermarket visit.

It has been a while since I last visited a supermarket. There is a reason why I don't visit the supermarket that often, trust me,  a very good reason, even though I love supermarkets.

I love walking around, looking at products, reading what's written on the packages, searching for new and exotic products. The colors, the drawings, the shapes, the graphics; It all attracts me so much, so I can spend hours in a supermarket (Only if I have a jacket and scarf with me, as it tends to be so cold in there).

Christmas is almost here (One month to go...yay!), and everything is already dressed with Christmas outfit, colors, gifts and happiness. Lots of of happiness in the air.  True happiness, fake happiness, it doesn't matter, it is there. In this period of time we concentrate on happiness, no matter how miserable we are, because Christmas is hope, and Christmas is life, and Christmas is what we wait for a full year!

C h r i s t m a s,  C h r i s t m a s   e v e r y w h e r e ! 

Christmas chocolate, Christmas beer, Christmas wine, Christmas decorations, Christmas tiny figures, Christmas toys, Christmas vegetables, Christmas fruits, Christmas toilets paper, Christmas ear cotton sticks, Christmas milk, Christmas...

The supermarket was full of Christmas stuff.  My eyes are filled with Christmas shopping, and my heart is filled with Christmas happiness, and I started gathering Christmas stuff. Chocolates for my nephews, alcohol for my parents, little Santas for the house and Christmas greeting cards for the friends.

A gift for G, a gift for S, a gift for P, for N,  for M, for E, for A, for B, for N, for D, for G, for T, for J, for S, for R, for L, for H, for R, for L, for H, for C, for C, for B, for Y, for T, for I, for L, for everyone. A gift for everyone in my life. Everyone. No matter what religion they are, no matter what and when they celebrate. Everyone.

Will anyone, think of me?!

Christmas is here, true happiness, fake happiness, it doesn't matter, it is here.

One thousand nights to go.

Every night, when the darkness is about to kiss the light, I abandon.
Every night, when the cockerel is about to crow in the break of dawn, I torture.
Every night, when the sun is about to wake up for a good morning ray, I kill.

Every night, I live to feed my ego.
Every night, I live to fulfill my passions.
Every night, I live to abandon, to torture and to kill.

Every night I am no one.
I am Shahryar! Shahryar!

Tonight you came, with your story to tell.
Tonight you came, for my imagination to conquer.
Tonight you came, and it was my turn to taste lust and despair.

You smile, you laugh, you lie, you touch...and I die.

Preternatural...storyteller...a fairy you are.
One thousand nights to go, and I didn't know.
That I am Shahryar, and Shahrazad you are.

A fighter...

So you tell me to write.
"Write for me", you say.

You challenge me. 

You tease me. 

You test me.

It is not right, I am not going to write. 

I insist, I am not going to write!

"You are a fighter, you should not surrender". You smile.

"I was born a leader" I shout. I fight. I resist!

Lost in the brightness of your pearl teeth and the rose of your soft lips...

I surrender...

You are right. I am no leader.
I am a fighter, I refuse no command.

So, I write. 

I write for you. 

I am a fighter, I refuse no command.

The day after 11.11.11

So, I have decided that this year of 2011 ends here on 11.11.11!

Today is the day after, meaning it is new year 12.11.11, therefore I must have my end of year resolution.

The year of 11.11.11 was a very good year for me, I think.

I turned 35, which is cool.
I have a "stable", good, "fun" job. 
I enjoy my life. Yay.
I love the people in my life. Very much.
I got to know some interesting new people. whom I like.
I have the best relationship with my mom ever, I think.
I love me. (Obviously not always did, but now I do and I do even more - Narcissism)
I love people. I Do, I do - with reservations still.
I love life with all its good and bad, happiness and sadness, and there is a lot of each.

I was actually thinking to myself, that every time I am happy, there must be something that makes me sad, and every time that I am sad, there must be something that makes me happy.
As if both, happiness and sadness are in a competition of who pleases me more.
In balance. The beauty of life. The Mystery of life, which I am in love with.

Back to the year of 11.11.11.

So I have learned to open up, a little bit more.
To accept people the way they are, a little bit more.
To enjoy people with all their differences, madness, noises, and calmness.
To look into their eyes, to surrender, to give myself to them and let them decide how much they'd like to get and when. Without too many expectations (though very hard and no matter how much I try I still build expectations) and without too many conditions.

You like me, voila, take as much as you want. You don't like me, then Au revoir.
If I like you, I want you to give me, If I don't like you then accept that I don't.

I am trying to keep writing since it is 4:45 AM and I need to keep awake until ~9:00AM, but I am not so sure how much I can. I think I can't, maybe I can. No I can't, I can!

OK, I cannot concentrate anymore. I must sleep for 2 hours. Not sure I like this post. But, cannot do anything now.

Bang Bang!

"Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound"

Unclosed circles, old stories, nostalgia, love, pain, happiness, sadness, it all hit you at once, with no warning. With no preparation, with no mercy.


You just see it coming straight towards you, in front of your eyes and you are helpless. Your life, your history, people that you loved, people that hurt you, people that you hurt. Bang bang, and you find yourself on the ground, naked, exposed, betrayed and...loved.


Mixed feelings of love and hate. No, I refuse to hate. Mixed feelings of love and disappointment. A bit of sadness, yet happiness for I feel, for It is revealed. 


Happiness for honesty being shared, for scared soul choosing to do it the right way. I smile, and I laugh with pain, because I choose to. I choose to keep it simple, to comprehend, to absorb as much as possible, to feel it all, with all my body, organ by organ. I choose to keep the drama outside my system. I try, but I am overwhelmed. I look for a place to pour, to shed a tear, but I have no tears. 

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Bang bang, I hit the ground, and I stand up. 
Bang bang, I hear this awful sound, and I shut my ears.


Bang bang, I see your face. I see your face.
Bang bang, you don't mean to hurt. You don't mean to hurt.
Bang bang, I like your soul.

Bang bang.

Samy 48

48.
48 days.
48 days since Samy left us.

Since then I visit him almost every day. Pathetic. I feel pathetic, but also helpless. Even embarrassed. I wanted to write this since 13.9.2011, but I had not the courage. Today after seeing the below Samy's photo I couldn't wait anymore. I felt a real connection, maybe because of the type of the photo, a theme I adopted since a long time ago.

I knew Samy since we were kids, from school and the city of Haifa, few parties, here and there. We were never friends, but he was there. Always. Heard his stories, heard about his activities, always saw him in the city. Invisible relationship, you may call it, a relationship that I cannot explain.

The death of Samy shocked me as it shocked many others. I check Samy's facebook wall almost everyday. I search, I look maybe he just replied to someone, or added a new post saying: "Hey all, Surprise!!! I am here, I have been here all the time, it was all a big joke - I just wanted to see how many people will miss me if I am gone for a while...surprise!" Damn it.

Instead, I see his friends and family moaning and posting stories about him, funny ones and happy ones, they are posting things that he loves, things that he dislikes. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I smile, sometimes I feel that I am going to cry, and my eyes tend to be wet. They are posting more and more wonderful pics of him , so handsome, I can't keep my eyes off him. The mole under his right eye, I always look at it and feel that it is a tear, that he wants to tell me something.

I ask myself why? What is happening to me? I have no answer, after all we weren't best friend, which is the most embarrassing part, we didn't have real daily contact. Come on, I am not even his friend on facebook. I really don't understand. I feel a little bit foolish, and I feel sometimes stupid. Why? What is connecting me to Samy? Why is this happening to me?

When I look at his photos, I many times see myself, as if I am looking at a mirror.

Sometimes, I like to think of myself as an angel. I fantasize about it, I believe that I came here for a reason, I have some duties to do, some people to meet and be in their lives, some changes I am responsible for, and then leave. Just leave, without even a goodbye, mission accomplished. First time I say this "out loud", but I live with the thought that I might not last long, human age wise. I live with this thought or feeling, even though I do not wish it to be real. So many things to do, so many things to accomplish, so many people to meet, to touch their hearts and let my heart be touched. I don't want to leave. I am an angel that likes it here. But angels have no saying in this...should I lose my wings and stay?

Looking at Samy I feel I am looking at myself, maybe because we angels see each other, know each other, even without any contact. This thought scares me to death.

Samy, you might remember me, and you might not, but I want to tell you that I feel you. I see you in my day dreams. When I look at your pics, I feel pain, but also a relief. Take care Samy. We all love you down here. Prepare the party and the good music, one day we will meet again for real.