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The Simple Life

Perceptions

The definitive point in which an acquaintance reaches the exclusive rank of “friend” is the point in which you identify a particular wavelength that only you and the other share. Regardless of the authenticity of this telepathic affinity, be it illusory or genuine, you will nurture a comforting zone of exclusivity. A humorous, emotional and sometimes disgusting peculiarity. One that will come to define your identity’s as friends, rather than individuals. The quality of this union of souls is dependent on time. A carefully designed predestined equation: (Soul N x Soul Y), subject to the denominator of time. Time off course being a synonym to freedom, which is a synonym of choice. Freedom that is far too valuable, and far too wholesome to be considered as a bottomless well of fortune. This all being the happy sum of computable factors.

And here is the problem. We have lost that exclusivity which we once had. Which we had taken for granted. Limited freedom is indulged in other pleasures, and the sum of our happiness has evidently suffered the consequences. So egotistical had our souls become, that forgotfullness swamped us, and we had overlooked the fact that equations are equally reversible as they are beautiful. Il m'attriste.

And now that we sleep alone, I stay awake questioning. Was our love illusory or genuine?

Je manque d'air pur, Je veux tout changer

Je Me Perds - Jena Lee

Je fais comme si tout était normal

I act like everything is normal

mais derrière mes sourires, mon regard, j'ai mal

but behind those smiles, my look, I'm hurting

Et je doute sans cesse, me délaisse, me déteste

I doubt all the time, I feel powerless, I hate myself

j'ai besoin de me tester je suis prête à risquer

I need to test myself, I am ready to risk

le peu qu'il me reste...

that little bit that is left....

Je briserai mes pensées, pour torturer mon âme

I would break my thoughts, torture my soul

Je me servirai, de ma haine comme une arme

I would use my hate like a weapon

Chorus:

Je veux tout tenter

I want to try everything

Je manque d'espace je veux tout changer

I lack space, I want to change everything

Bousculer ma vie pour mieux respirer

Stir up my life to breathe better

Faire sortir ma rage je me perds

Unleash my rage, I get lost

Je me perds, je me perds, je me blesse.

I get lost, I get lost, I hurt myself

Je veux tout tenter

I want to try everything

Je manque d'air pur je veux tout changer

I lack fresh air I want to change everything

Bousculer mon coeur pour le faire parler

Shake my heart to let it speak

Libérer mes sens je me perds

Free my senses, I get lost

Je me perds, je me perds, je me blesse.

I get lost, I hurt myself

Je fais face à mes doutes mes erreurs mais je vois

I face my doubts my mistakes but I see

qu'il n'y a plus personne en qui je crois

that there is no one left in who I believe

Je ne veux pas qu'on m'aide, qu'on m'aime

I don't want anybody to help me, to love me

Je ne ressens rien moi même

I don't feel anything myself

Vous pouvez me laisser, j'ai déjà tout risqué

You can leave me behind, I have already risked everything

j'n'ai plus rien à perdre.

I have nothing to lose

J'ai brisé celle que j'étais

I broke the person I was

pour faire saigner mes larmes

To let my tears bleed

J'ai fait de ma peine une nouvelle arme...

I turned my sentences into a new weapon...

(Chorus)

Je fais comme si tout était normal

I act like everything is normal

mais derrière mes sourires, mon regard, j'ai mal.

but behind those smiles, my look, I'm hurting

J'ai menti j'aimerais qu'on m'aid

I lied, I would like somebody to hurt me

eque quelqu'un me tende la main

That sombody extends their hand to me

même si je suis déjà loin...

even though I am already far....

(Chorus)

Spiritual Revival

There is always that one summer event that sums up your entire year. And Wednesday the 21st of July was that very day that I shall be looking back on for the rest of my life. It was perfect. I feel alive again :)

Just when you start to doubt...

The Lord of happiness will shed his/her eternal rays of kindness.

Thank you

^_^

Long distance relationships do not work.

Love is nothing more than mere habit. It is possible to love anyone. Be it an opinionated bigot, or a bimbo obsessed sheep. They are all the same. They all have hearts. They all have the willingness to provide time. That is all it is after all? Time. There are no secrets about love, or mysteries, or butterflies, or first sight wonders. No. Lies and fantasies of drunk literary experts. There is an old Arabic saying "Time is of Gold" - Gold being the most expensive and sought after metal. Those small shinning ounces that are the cause of feuds, wars, and persecutions. Days and sometimes weeks of digging, and then finally: a microscopic grain which is sold for a few pounds. Funny. And isn't that the very value of love? We all have that gold within us. All it takes is for a person to dig deep. Spend weeks, months, years, and sometimes decades. And then finally. Yes it is there. You may laugh at yourself at the end. All that effort that was once invested, and here it is: a mere smile.

عندما تنظر الى حياتك وتجد أنك لم تعش الطفوله ولم تعش المراهقه ولم تعش الحب الاول والقبله الاولى .ولم تعش النضج لانك لحد الان غير مستقل وغير حر لا ماديا ومعنويا عن اهلك .عندما تحس انك مكتئب وعمرك الف عام وتحلم بالحريه في كل شيء .فاعلم انك شرق اوسطي

Bleh.

I received a text from someone today with the claim that I had been living a “free” life this year. I didn’t bother to defend my stand, considering this to be the 89th time I have heard it being suggested.

I am not a pessimist. I am a realist.

There was once a time when I really did give you my all. I really did believe in love. I really thought there was an ever. Time, energy, hopes and dreams were all in dedication to you. I meant nothing. It was you, you, you. You were my esteem. My confidence was enslaved by your desires and choices.

Silly isn’t it?
Not anymore though.
Today I live for myself. No more you and more of ME.

Before I die I want to:

Learn to ride a bicycle
Adopt proficiency in horse riding
Live elsewhere in the world
Achieve fluency in French
Bear / adopt a child
Marry a Portuguese man
Find out what the hell happiness is
Awaken a romance
Escape the confinement of society
Hold an exhibition of my work

Travel the world

Bike ride it through Vietnam
See Saudi women drive
Have a home
Stop pretending I know how to robot dance or moonwalk
Be set free
Have a researched published opinion

حكمة اليوم

لا تتخيل كل الناس ملائكة فتنهار أحلامك، ولا تجعل ثقتك بهم عمياء لأنك سوف تبكي ذات يوم على سذاجتك

An affair.

He called today. Coincidently I had been just thinking of him. We hadn’t spoken in months, almost a year now- possibly more. It is for the best. I shouldn’t think of him in that way. He has a wife and a kid, a life, a career. He doesn’t need me. If anything, I should be able to understand the betrayal of men. I couldn’t tell my butterflies to stop flapping, nor could I stop myself from pressing that green button. That buzzing call. Ring. Ring. That cry of lust. That flashing of light.

It just happened. My three minutes of happiness, in substitute for her erosion of trust. It’s pathetic really. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did.

It is official. I am aging.

It was 2007, a brisk Autumn morning in September when I discovered my first grey hair. 2009, when I discovered my first set of forming wrinkles. 2010, I seem to be passing through an unusually early mid-life crisis.

I still remember that hysterical fit I threw when I found that first shinning white hair. It was easy to find considering my hair is a very dark shade of ebony. I remember reading once that it is impossible for anyone to have black hair, just dark shades of brown. I always thought of myself as an exception- regardless of what science said.

That shining silver amazed me, and I wanted to share this with everybody and anybody. It was a new part to me that I had never seen before, and I couldn’t do anything about it but simply laugh. Can you imagine waking up one day, and finding yourself with a new arm? That is what it was. A foreign addition to my being.

Then came the second. And yet again, those overwhelmingly extroverted feelings of astonishment would pride themselves amongst the public. Then the third, fourth, and … yes… I’ve lost count. They are EVERYWHERE. I have my parents to blame for this. It’s all genetic. And to think that I have never really enjoyed my hair. It has always been a ruffled up mess rolled in a bundle and tucked under that helmet, for fear of sin. And now the years have gone by me with a blink of an eye, and taken the youth of my hair with it. Never to be looked it, never to be enjoyed, never to be appreciated. Good bye youth. Good bye hair.

I forgot.

I lost myself, and with that came the loss of that vital vein of love. Out of signal. Out of touch. The very world which repulses me has engulfed me into its corpse. I am the maggot of the dead. I am the dead of the living. I am the living of the dead. Buried into an abysmal pit of darkness. The epitome of ignorance. “Busy” I said. “Consumed”. “Worried”. “Depressed”…. Nonsense. Futile pities. Vain frills. Disguised necessities. Worry not for what is today, but for what is tomorrow.

To think I am someone is to mean I am nobody. For everyone is somebody. Conceited mediocrities. Hallucination en masse. Propagandist reality. Sequential rotations of self inflicted dizziness. Rings of sameness yet in different shades of history. And? And? Nothing! Nothing.

Except for you. You transcend that which my senses convey as reality. Omnipotence lies with you. You alone, and no one but you. How could I have missed this? How could I have allowed myself to be swallowed?

Forgive me.

Forgive me.

Welcome Readers.

Greetings,

Welcome to the Fabulicious blog- 2

The reason for starting afresh is due to the fact that my previous work position required that I use my blogger account. Signing reports on the Iranian nuclear issue with the pseudonym “Homers Secret Mistress” didn’t really go well with management. Well actually management just thought it was hilarious. I on the other hand felt like a right idiot! I couldn’t have diplomatic dignitaries read my work with a name like that! No one takes me seriously enough as it is. The situation forced me to change my name to the much more boring, yet much more respectable “Fatema Abuidrees”.

From there on, the Fabulicious blog was officially in exile. I wasn't going to permit my work colleagues to have a nosy read about my opinions on male genitalia, flirtation, my latest crush, and life’s awkward mess. Nor will I allow them to hear me bitch about the department. Self censorship at its worst. Bugger. That blog took years of posting, and development to reach the stage it did. I loved it. That hyperlink was my personal claim to fame on the World Wide Web.

Feel rest assured though, because I AM BACK! *insert dramatic music here* And with vengeance this time! *drum roll* Since my banishment off the face of the bloggers world, I have done a lot of growing up. A lot of thinking. I’ve sulked, I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve wished, I’ve hoped, I’ve longed. And here I am today. I have lots to share. Keep tuned in for more!