The New Age of Communication

I was watching this TV show about a serial killer, and one guy confesses murders that he didn't do just to get his few minutes of fame and be on the news.. He says that with blogs, podcasts, and all this social media invasion, it's hard now to make a breakthrough.. with people setting up their own TV channels on Youtube, others opening up their own magazines/newspapers.. Everyone is simply broadcasting.. I could just take a second to close my eyes and see the lights of all these connected devices, each one transmitting what we want to show the world.. The new age of communication.. Something that used to be more direct: Sender _ Message _ Receiver! When people used to know who they are addressing, and others knew who they are perceiving.. When connection was clearer, even if slower.. Compared o a time when we are all connected, but not really sure how.. Each setting his own world, his own rules, with some people passing by.. The real glory is when you get comments, the more you have ones the more you feel.. FAMOUS!! Is this what it's really all about? This new age of people beating their way up just to have others' attention? Is it why I'm here?
I used to write way before I knew what email is.. But it was for me in the beginning, then I started sharing among friends.. Then now with the world ( no matter how small or big is the percentage of the world really drops by).. But just the idea of being exposed to the unknown has a certain carnal pleasure that keeps me coming back for more..
Pleasure, fame, glory, all leading to a certain orgasm you only get when you're connected, when you have a mutual flow of.. Bytes, in this case?!! When you feel that you're opening up to be admired by some, criticized by others, and ignored by more, but mostly when you know that you got someone's attention..
This new age of communication, social media, and technology, all evolving around one idea: attention.. That's what everyone is looking for, that's what everyone is really fighting for.. Even those who pretend to like staying in the shadows, are just secretly hoping that by the difference they set from the crazy crowds around them, they'll caught some kind of attention.. maybe it's just a basic need, just like eating, then shitting, then eating again, then gaining some attention before shitting one more time..


بطل من هذا الزمان

لحظة تردد واحدة كانت كلّ ما تحتاجه لتقرّر أنّني لست شريكة حياتك.. أن كلّ ما جمعنا ليس حتى كافٍ ليرقى لمستوى الصداقة
لحظة تردد واحدة جعلتك تدرك أن ما بيننا لم يكن سوى لقاء عابري سبيل جمعتهما الوحدة و الحنين.. و أنّه لا جدوى من اقناع أنفسنا بأننا نتشارك أي شيء أبعد من ذلك
لحظة واحدة جعلتك تتعجّب كيف بقيت كل هذا الوقت دون أن تلاحظ أن ما بيننا هو عبارة فقط عن رغبة مشتركة لإرضاء مجتمع لا يؤمن بالفردية و لا حتى بالثنائية
فقرّرت، أيها البطل، ألّا تظلمني معك
واه! عجبي من النساء اللواتي يشتكين من انعدام الشهامة في عصرنا هذا

قرّرتَ أنه لا داعي لأن يتحطّم فؤادي، و أنه عوضاً عن ذلك من المستحب أن أنحني شاكرةً عطف قلبك و بعد الرؤيا التي تتمتّع بها وحدك. و قررت أيضاً أنه لا داعي لدموعٍ سأدرك بعدها أن فراقنا نعمة قرّرت أن تغدق بها عليّ
لحظة واحدة! جعلتك بطلاً، ناصراً للمظلومين، محرّر قلوب العذارى، أرقى أنواع الرجال! و تشتكي سائر النساء من حقارة جنسكم! يا للصفاقة
لحظة واحدة أكّدت لك أن قدري أن أتابع من دونك و أن أشغل نفسي موقتاً بصنع نصب تذكاري و أيقونات لتخليدك، منقذي من حياةٍ.. معك
لا تظنّني أشتكي، و لا أنني أبكي على أطلالك.. فرحيلك كان فعلاً نعمة! ليس لأن ما بيننا كان وهماً، بل لأن رجلاً تحركه لحظات تردد ليس سوى نصف رجل، في أحسن حالاته
في عالمٍ تحكمه أنصاف الرجال، و نصب تذكارية تخلد ذكرى كل من يرفض أن يدور الكون إلا حوله
لست هنا لأشتكي، أنا فقط هنا لأنصب لك تمثالك التذكاري


Zunzurt ( or however it's written)

Nostalgia has been haunting me today since the moment I woke up. Not that I don't miss home, but I'm more nostalgic today for the person I used to be, for life not put on hold. I miss the confidence I used to have, and the pride. I'm feeling nostalgic for all the dreams I used to have, and I'm disappointed by the simplicity of the ones I have now. The ambitions of climbing the highest mountains, replaced now by the ambition to walk straight without falling down. I'm nostalgic for the eagerness to experience a free fall, replaced now by an aspiration to have stable steps. I'm nostalgic for the times when I wasn't afraid of bruises, when I was calling for scars, when i aspired for glory. Aspirations now replaced with a pitiful need to be safe, to have enough to eat, and a reasonable space to shit.

I'm nostalgic for the person I was, the person I will become one day, and I'm repelled by the person I am now. But mostly I'm worried about the rehab time I would need to be normal back again, to wake up from this stagnation.



The problem with inspiration is that you cannot look for it, a bit like love, it will just strike you. You pass by this garbage can everyday, and it stinks just like everyday, but one day, you simply decide to make something out of it. Not as an expression of your boredom, and not as an expression of your disgust, but because for the first time today, this smelly garbage can inspires you!!

But don't worry, today is not about a garbage can. It's about what I think I lost, but not sure if I should hold on to it or not. What I gained seems logically way more important but there was this little satisfaction I only get with what I seem to have lost. And I think I should mention that I'm the type who appreciates the value of what they have long before they're gone, so it's not that it's something new for me, it's just something that I miss. Enormously..

I guess life is the place where you're not supposed to get everything you want at once, or maybe some things just don't get along. The choice is already done, but still, I can't help but being reminiscent for what I seem to have lost..


A Tribute to September!

The first sentence is always what matters the most. But I don't have one for this one. I only have mixed feelings, scattered here and there, and I'm not even trying to pick them up. It's this month of the year, my favorite month of the year, where leaves start falling down, and nature starts undressing, with leftovers scattered everywhere just like myself, preparing to sleep. And on the other side of life, us, trying to put our clothes on and collect what's left of us after a long summer sun, and we try to start working again. Back to action after a long summer sun, after vacation for some, or after lazy season of work for others. And for the lucky ones, even if they don't know, it's just a matter of changing clothes, with no work worries, no studies, nothing but a different season of nonchalance.

This month of contradiction when nature falls down to pieces and humans seem to picking themselves up. This is my favorite month of the year. Everyday brings change, you see an entire transformation in front of you if you just take few minutes to pause and look around. Then September rain comes, bringing along the most wonderful smell there could be.

September in this country might come a bit late, and might never come, I guess I have to stay a while to see about it. But I just know that I miss it. Real life, real seasons, real colors, real flavors. It just feels that senses here are something you read about in books, and even though everywhere in the world it seems to be useful, in here it will never come in use. I used to pity those who do not know how to savor beauty, now I pity those who will never even come across it.