The End

This is my last post on this blog, It's not the end of my writing though. I'm moving my writings to WordPress. and Down under is the link to my new blog.
Filmmaker's Diary

Apathetic Immersion

Standing in the middle of a busy Cairo squares, in stillness and solitude. Average egyptians rushing by in pursuit of their mandatory achievements recklessly disturb my fixed gaze into the heat of the day. Like puppets they flow into the streets lashed in their ways by the ruthlessness of their masters who in turn are pushed around by the selfishness of their lords who in turn are controlled by those behind sight and common knowledge. I see strings, lots of them everywhere. I know, and the more I do the more apathetic I become. Forced to be involved in a pattern, a crowd of fools, and party of lunatics. Counted one, but I am none. Those helpless waters that flood down hill and push on all that's in its path is only a natural flow downhill. Such chaos is a result of steep inclination towards a past image that was never there nor will ever be; a deceiving image of perfect goodness. An image that is nothing but a mask to all the hatred of a proud race thrusting after the flags of them evil devisions of the fallen. My time is a time of silence, where I would watch and observe but soon there will be a time that is so different than now. A time where words would be spoken through the work of my hands, a message and a rebuke. Time when my flag is raised for all to follow and others to fear. Who would ever think that the silent one will speak so loud; or the still would be so vibrant? But the ways of wisdom is far beyond the understanding of them drunkards, them whom are twice drunk, once by ignorance and twice by deceit. Apathetic I am, for the shallow.. and for now.

Absolute

Tell me one thing that is forever, something that will never change. Speak to me a word that would last forever or sing me a song that will always entertain. Show me a face that doesn't bore, a day to live for. Look me in the eye and tell me how beautiful you are. Prove to me if you were the strongest, the toughest or the cutest. Affirm to me your wealth, power or influence. Stand this instance and tell me One Thing that would hold its ground tomorrow without the slightest of a change. Look at your beauty, day by day I will watch it whither away, Count your money for tomorrow it's all been spent away. Show off your power today for someday it will pass on to another. Ha! Be the strongest, the cutest or the wealthiest, Be anything I don't care for whatever you have will never last. All you hang on to and all you cherish will go. All that you are, All you have been will never be forever.

I have seen no face of man that stood still against my words, none would pass my test, neither man nor else. All have fallen short but ONE.

Of HIM, I dare not speak but in riddles. For even if I used all languages they still would be deficient. No earth tongue could communicate such knowledge and thus I shall speak not. HIM who never changed since forever, HIM who bends time and shapes life with the flow of HIS breath. HIM who created freedom and them free rebelled, them who see things upside down. I challenge the living for I speak of HIS Spirit, of words I dare not write out of my own desire, words that scare me to even think about. But I was given permission to reveal.

That absurd choice (2)

Years ago I left home on a quest and a journey far away from home. Away from my comfort and familiar zone I walked; step by step the distance grew so far that I now do not know see the past any more when I look over my shoulder. I am one of the few visionaries left to wander across the swirls of time. One of those who follow whispers and faint voices, signs and marks of time. I meditate on ancient wisdom, one was given to man by the grace of the Giver, Him, the Sole Maker of all beings. And though I go like fools sometimes yet He guides my steps. I look like a fool to the fools, wise to the wise and crazy to the needy in heart yet no one knows how do I make it happen. They all wonder how I go this far, where no one expected me to. I speak highly of myself because I am happy. Though stricken by all sorts of torments yet I witness that plant grow before me. Observing every little detail of its change. To some I waste my time, to others I am the waste of time, but in me I know who and what I am. I am not dream chaser, nor am I disillusioned. I cant hold words with my hands and touch those whispers, I was given to see beyond the eyes and beneath skin, through matter and along time. As much as I am given, a lot is required of me. I chose to accept the call along with the burden that comes along with it. I might have chosen a normal life, a fun fun fun sad sometimes beat but I chose something else, the different adventure that would form me a very different type of hero. I worry not. My Writer knows how this story will end.

Doing or not

I lie because my words of truth end up nowhere. I decided to cover them up into the sheets of time and space, Never changing what is true but keeping it off those blinded eyes. The is no place in their minds to hear my faithful whispers and there is not a chance there would ever be. Those seek posters and head lines, figuring out books by them covers but i have no cover and no poster. My eyes hide so much and they do not show a thing but some sense it within the tones of my voice and those who knew me long enough to find out what I conceal. And yet I choose to keep it all inside where they belong. My secrets belong to myself where I alone would keep them from public exposition. It's really hard cause a secret has a very high potential to be shared and is like hot cakes to the ears, but after that it turns to be a scandal then a reputation is ruined. Just like a woman, when young she wants to be loved and whenever she finds the right mate she gets pregnant after that she gives birth to another being. No wonder why women like secrets for it is only a reflection to themselves. A man is different, a trouble maker an initializer, a change maker, a creator. He starts it all and regrets every little thing he does though it was his initial will. I regret all the things I have done for all I did was evil and wicked an nothing was pure that came out of me. But for all the good that came out of me I know it wasn't me. He Is a Spirit that longs to do good through me. Whenever I surrender to Him Spirit, All that I do turns to be good. Maybe I'm mistaken but I don't think so. Whenever I take things into my own hands and will they turn to be the most wicked thing ever. Test yourself and see my words to be true. Surrender and see. Maybe I should do that myself.

He was

He gently pushes the door open, slowly he runs his eyes across the busy cafe. It is loud with music and chitchats of teens and young people. He heads to his favorite stool at the corner, facing those big window that views the narrow busy street. He puts his bag, climbs up the stool and starts looking outside the window, people walking, couples and cars. reflections showing the people behind his back. His eyes get lost in those intersecting images. His mind is not clear for his heart is troubled. He has a question that only one could answer. He knows that looking for the answer would risk him his dearest. He doesn't take risks any more. Like war veterans he chose to wear his last war outfit. Though it never covers his old scars, it yet honors his sacred duty. He is the most awarded for giving himself up for those who never new his name, and even those who did, yet forgot. A man could stay locked in the peek of his time, a moment where the world ended for him, where eternity touched that instance of time. A moment when the sound of his heartbeats sound no more. Turning points could be the end of a man's life sometime. He is what he was.

Define me

Today, Driving by on the main stream bridge in the usually busy city of Cairo. I passed by a car with a young couple in it. The guy was busy trying to avoid his car getting bumped again while the young lady leaned back and rested her head and was far asleep. She was sweating and so uncomfortable, I could tell that as I passed by and saw her eyebrows quarreling together. And then I came back inside the walls of my mind and asked myself. Why? Why does life turn to be such a vesicle of tragedy? I had images of suffering and unease show in my mind. Why would one choose to live with another? Why pay the price? Why do? Why be? Why live? why breathe? Why suffer? Why Struggle? What is it that pushes you to live? And why Dream?! How come people are restless? Who has the answers? Who plants the questions within? It's so silly I write all this even.

"Life is a tragedy" said Lady Fantasy
"Fantasy is unrealistic" said Life
"Both of you make me who I am" said sir Tragedy

Marriage is such a scary decision. Commitment is such a burden. Loneliness is far more worse, It pushes two to make a scary decision and endure such burden. Whoever falls into the web of loneliness gets addicted to the daydreams of fantasy. Life is instability and constant change, Life? What is it? What is death? If a soul lives forever, then is there really something called death? If there is no death, then what is Life now? Or is death just another level of life? Another place for eternity? What is everything? Who am i?

I guess it all boils down to that last question.. Who am I? What am I? Define me