A corrupted manual

It is not an easy thing to realize consciously that you are not behaving as normal people would do in certain situations and have no power or will to change your behavior into something more socially accepted.


It is easy just to accept the way you feel and the way you ache and just be yourself.


It is not an easy task to stop your mind from thinking in a certain way that you know for sure can trigger more pain and sore feelings.


It is easy to surrender to fatigue, let go, drop your hands weak and give up trying…but for some, that’s even a harder task…when it’s impossible to drop on your knees, lie down and accept the crawling sensation of fainting just to enforce a necessary shut down.


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Earlier this morning right after dawn, and after I received that phone call from my brother telling me in a reluctant voice that our grandmother, My late daddy’s mother has passed away, I felt…tired…I felt beat…I cried, not loud ugly cries, not hurtfully, I cried quiet sad tears…a minute it was because I was crying my dad actually, still not over not having his hug…protection…content. another minute I was crying because I’m going to miss her, or because I was terrified of her situation at that moment…but the most overwhelming feeling was that I am tired, exhausted…and the only thing I needed at that moment was for hiding in my daddy’s chest, reassured and safe where it was OK for me to feel fragile, weak and scared.


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My kindhearted brother was reluctant because he knew I was tired already…I, as I stepped in my grandmother’s house, hugged him tight…I knew he felt the same…the same daddy’ scenario is replaying bit by bit…even the same faces, the same talk, my aunt calling and crying and screaming for her mother who laid in her room…dead.


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The Idea itself is so uncomprehendable…for someone to suddenly NOTآ exist. Becomes lifeless…all his belongings loose their owner…his place is emptied…his presence becomes a past…his opinion, worth, history are no longer his…theyآ are someone else’s to messآ them up.


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Typical Egyptian Ladies talk too much, reassuring us that heaven isآ granted…that they were so sad, they had lots of loud sobbing to prove it anyway…and I’m sure most of them really meant it…I was the unnatural one…just kept mumbling to myself: la elah ela allah and asking for mercy to be granted to my grandmother, father and all the dead.


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I stayed with my aunt till noon, I couldn’t say a word, and actually I couldn’t force my self to…didn’t want to force myself…or, didn’t have the energy nor the will to do anything but what I felt…and I felt tired, sad and numb!


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Around noon, I started to feel very sharp cramps in my abs…They became sharper and sharper but I had to take the pain and shut up…


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As the doctor and the nurses who were supposed to prepare the deceased for her final trip arrived, I received a phone call from the office asking about me…I realized I’ll be messing the whole day for them especially that the keys for the safe, doors and the CEO’s office were at my possession.


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I had to leave…headed for the office…the cramps became sharper…the CEO felt for me and took me to a nearby hospital where the Doctors in the ER said that it was my nervous system playing the physical game on me…again!


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Prescribed me a muscle relaxant…then, I insisted on going to the office…the CEO started the: maysa7esh ya madam Rasha, you have to attend the funeral.


He nagged, I said: Mafeesh 7aga esmaha elmafrood…mesh 7a2dar ashoof daddy’s scenario tany…mesh 7a2dar asma3 soot 7ad beysarakh aw bey3ayat…


I’m going to the office!


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Went there, I could see them around the office puzzled not knowing how to handle how hyper yet quiet i was…I finished a great amount of work…hiding in my documents…being the Machiavellian that I am, took advantage of my situation and enforced a decision or two on the CEO and got what I wanted…They were in place though…I do have ethics…


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Among all the chaos in my head, a nice breeze of kindness or two blew in my way…I am blessed, I know.


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And a mean selfish steam or two tried to annoy me…but, nothing couldآ hurt me more than I was already.


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The typical manual in relating to similar situations is corrupted in my system.


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I don’t know if I’m becoming less sensitive or what…but, after my dad, I doubt that anything would come close in effect.


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May all people find the peace of mind, heart and spirit.


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Amen.


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For the Love of the Game

For the love of the game…
you aim
reclaim
ur right to be hot again
you gaze
amaze
and slowly say a name

you thrive adrenaline
commit a lie or ten
sooth
act smooth
try to loose
senses are no longer the same

All, for the love of the game

For the love of the game
remain
soft and sweet
in vein
won’t admit defeat
again
struggle to prove
insane
and u won’t move
give more?!
won’t do any good
hey, score
andآ indulge the flood
allow
every caress and sigh
show how
love makin’ is high
a bow
a laugh
a cry
ashamed?!
burn and dry
and try
and try
and try
Just for the love of the game!

Joint Initiation

Last Ramadan flew just like a rocket and I couldn’t help but feel very poor on the good deeds of the holy month.

and while I was ranting about it here on my blog and giving myself hope that stressing on my faith doesn’t have to be a Ramadan task, My dear friend and fellow blogger Jerusalem shared my feelings and hope of a better grounded acts of faith.

She Innovated an action plan that can help keep us on track of our actions…Life tend to distract don’t you agree?!!

May Allah bless her suggested the attached…and as she named it : The Joint initiation was meant to be shared with whoever finds him/herself willing and in need of a few guidelines.

Committing to such a schedule isn’t easy and I know so…and even finding the desire deep inside is a reluctant move that – speaking about myself – required certain state of mind and soul…

I believe it’s a reminder of the lost link and spirituality with Allah…

May we always have the power to want and the strength to give…mainly for ourselves.

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