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

Mercy Beyond

Lit with sulfurous blaze of hate and division they quarreled amongst each other in a useless attempt proving their nonsense points of views might be worth something. A generation lost within its own selfishness, dragged by its peggy desires into a dry pit of desolation. The seed their fathers sowed, brought up a dry thorny shoot. Their mothers conceived shame for their reputation. Punishment lies within the folds of the crime and no one, No One escapes justice. The winding ways of justice ends up with a feather sensitive scale that weighs all hearts of men and judges all according to a divine and delicate measure. Yet not one sets his eyes up to gather those fruits of such absolution that folds either release or indebtedness. A black marble or a white one, which would you choose young man? Should I lock you up till your debt is due or should you choose life? Why do you blindfold your eyes? Is the light too bright to see? Or is your lusting imagination a better place to be? Choose whatever you may, from the scales of life you shall go nowhere. What you shoot shall hunt you and what you spare one day will save you. I have shown you the ways of life and the pits of death, I have made the light clear as well as the darkness so that you wont have an excuse to hang on to when the curve of time straightens and the tales of man on this earth come to an end.

Choose life, and live.

That absurd choice (1)

Today, I felt that sweet soft current. A slow but steady flowing deep stream of endless energy, yet so tender as silk and cotton. It washed my skin and healed my burnt skin. I closed my eyes and lost control over my worn out muscles. I was washed away by it's cleansing water of hope. Where am I flowing to? I have become a part of this current. I don't know anything but I feel a lot of things within my heart. My mind is senseless and my skin has surrendered. The winds of Life lift my feathers to a destiny and a destination. Blowing into such direction by the One who made all things. I learnt to let go. When I lost my grip over the land, I was lifted. and when I untied the ropes, my ship floated away from that harbor. It's amazing how life goes. one has to let go before he gets and loose before he wins. Who dares live with such faith? Who dares to follow his hope? Who wants that share in the Kingdom that now is nowhere!? Will you leave what you have for something you can't see just because you heard it's the best that could ever be? Would you even leave such humane materialistic wise choice for one that sounds so absurd? heh? Would you?

The Warrior Prepared

I was formed a mighty warrior to shake the foundations of nations and break the might of armies. A shield was given to me that no arrow nor spear might pierce. My sword cuts steel and nothing holds it back, My head is protected with an armored crown and my chest is kept withing impermeable metals from a world unseen by mere sight. My waist is tied tight and my feet are saddled and protected. I was given sight and insight, knowledge, wisdom and speed. An army follows me and The LORD hand is upon me, His fire and Power is with me. Where ever I go I win and in everything I do I succeed. No enemy shall stand before me and prosper for all was pushed into my hands.

O Father! You have given me so much and so much is asked from me. I count not on myself for you know where you saved me from, You and i know. But I know where my strength comes from. My Assurance stands strong over the heights of the earth and the folds of the heavens. My Assurance shaped the earth with his breath and moved the universe with His hands. My Assurance owns time and life to Him is within. Giver of all authority and with His permission everything happens. My God is Mighty far above all. In Him I trust. In Him is my assurance!

In wait of an appointed time

It's been long since I tapped in my feeling into this cold cyber world of nonsense. God I'm so rude! Sorry I'm just not feeling well. Spring, my favorite season of depression in Egypt. Spring here is mostly like summer but even worse, It's also comes up with southern sand storms that are so terrible.

The Kingdom of Egypt is so struck in the spiritual realm by spirits of stupidity and lust. And I thought Egypt was a pure place but really it is not. I guess after my trip to New York city I know this is a bloody mess here. Anyway, my dream stands but hardly holds on to faith.

O God, O God; why did you show me that vision? Like you said to John, It would be sweet in your mouth but bitter inside you. O Yes, it sure is! How sweet were the words, the promises and the hope, but it's so bitter to live for such fulfillment day by day. After such knowledge, reality becomes worse and life becomes unbearable, a burden and a very heavy yoke. And You LORD, You know. You have made me in such a way and changed my form in such a manner that puzzles my understanding. You know what You have put inside me, That which I don't understand but know so well. You know what triggers me and have set a time for me to do what I should. What I saw and what I long for. If it was not for that Bitter Sweet Purpose I wouldn't have come here and if You ever take it away from my book then put me to sleep with my fathers. I shall not ask for the time nor for You to rush things up for I know such knowledge is for You and is sealed from the ears of men. And though You pierce me, I shall wait. I know all will be in it's due time. All will be.

Earth

I am seriously starting to hate this planet. Nations lead by gamblers and people driven by lunacy. Really tired of retarded minds and carnal cultures. I hate everything and everyone, all that I see and hear. I am sick of what I sense and touch, all that I taste and smell. Nothing is new and nothing is good. I believe it's so scary for people to believe we might be the only specie in this universe! Imagine, the disappointment all the UFO believers would feel when they know that all the life in this universe is our responsibility! Imagine the burden of the responsibility the leaders of this world would feel. How many dreams would shatter knowing that there is no place to live beyond earth. Imagine the rage and panic environmentalists would go through trying to clean up earth. Haa! Sometimes the human race hopes in some fiction story in hope that one day we would skin out our pains and fears. Why do I care?! I don't! the only problem is that all this world's filth has gotten into me.

The moon triggered me

I have never seen the moon this beautiful before. Though incomplete yet I stare at it's amazing beauty, its solitude, it's silence. Through a little opening in my window I was touched by its soothing light, I was thinking how much I needed a woman's hug, her warmth and care. After all life's disappointments I look for a place to rest my head and feel I am taken care of. A woman I could trust with my life. My mind stops me, while my heart pushes me. I know times, and appointments, I know patience, trained for long years. Now the moon is gone again, leaving it's image in this dream in my head and some scattered words on the internet. I wish I could sleep again, dream again, rest again and die again.

Valentine's day blues

I was drifted away again today, the people seem so far, the sounds sound so faint. Memories are closer to me than dreams, and sadness pushes hope away. Where I have been and when, is why I am what I am now. Within me I am so disappointed in the world of men. Friendships are as pale as a washed away color, Lovers are so unreal as a fairy tale could be. I question all my feelings and doubt all my thoughts. Was it real? Ever? I sometimes reach a place where I don't know what's real from what's not. Consciousness is a slow moving dream, distances stretch. I am no gentleman, I am a savage wild animal caught in the shackles of pretension. I live to act, not do. Ah how I miss a dream, where I could be who I really am. This world lies to itself twice, once to others and twice to itself. Everybody is caught in this swirling wind of deceit and none dare to face the solid truth. A solid brick that puts a stop to all motion and time. I hit, faint yet now I see. What is life? love? What is the time we are given here? why? We tend to ignore awareness for sake of survival, thought as the clock ticks it witnesses the shortening of the time given. Don't wake up to such bitter reality, keep sleeping in your sweet time slipping dream. Watch the water slip through your fingers, watch that breeze fly by. Is it your life or mine? Does mine make a difference to you? well, your's matter to me anyway. In one of those instances to one of those beings I would really want to ask only one a question.. Did you ever love me? Whatever the answer is and no matter what I think It will answer my real question.. Was I real?

A Whispering Dead.

I have become so thin, so pale and faint. I am an image of smoke, a whisper and a still scent. My color is not to be defined and my taste is so mild. I am, am not. I drink and am drunk. I long to fly and yes I do. I was pierced and torn and scarred, pressed down and crushed. My breath was squeezed out of me, my life was snatched and pulled away. All that I am was buried long ago, alive I was but time outrun me. I was forced to dissolve, pushed to be consumed by nature and forced to disperse my being into the stillness of the soil. Roots sucked me in and I was no more.

The Life I saw and the way I went turned me into something, not someone. Stripped me of my identity and deleted my name. I became nothing, yet i am. Though I was blindfolded, chained, castrated, torn apart and burnt to carbon, reduced to my elements; I go to places no one can, I talk and listen to secrets few know about, I breed an offspring that no one can seize, I move things nothing else can. I am no ghost but yes I have become one.

I brag, to him who reads, but deep inside I mean it not. If my heart was ever felt, pride wouldn't be found there. But how could it be ever felt? It's so faint like a smoking thread, of a whispering dead.

Shooting at Sharm

It's been a week now here, shooting with a new crew and cast. It's a casino, with a lot of half naked girls. A lot of proud actors and malicious filmmakers, a few are good in heart though. I am so tired, had some serious food poisoning along with many other crew members, cast and extras. My feet hurt so bad, sore and worn out. Bad shoes, bad pain, fortunately enough I will get paid tonight and tomorrow I will get me some shoes and a jacket.

Emotionally I am so worn out, my heart is pierced with a pike. I feel as if I don't feel anything at all. Numb. It's just normal for a guy like me. I always feel so and it's no surprise I guess I am used to it. Sometimes I feel that I will never get married or have a wife. My heart is a frozen piece of meat, even when it beats, it's just sustaining my body. Dead is me. Dying was my life. I am sick of people, I spend hours alone. Solitude is pleasure, my only friend is God. I don't put my hope on anyone because everyone I loved broke my heart someday in a way or another. Some cut me deep some scratched my wounds. What's the difference? They are a factor to keep me bleeding.

Prey

"Nice animal, after the pursuit, after the chase and the hunt, could be very useful. Let's stretch its skin and make some sort of drums or maybe some shoes. Lets take isn't muscles and turn them into some fat and burn it for some food, Lets use its intestines to make some strings and bands, Nice bones, we could use them to kill more of its kind!" said the hunters.

"They killed me" said the deceased prey.

Scrambled thoughts

Years, I spent wandering in this puzzling, wondering what's the rule or the law that binds it all together. Looking for the one in a million million instance when all those rules break apart where supernatural things happen. What's love? And what's life? Are we meant to live a random life where love and marriage is just another trick or treat? Is love a feeling or a meaning or a motive? Is love a spiritual gift or is it just another satisfaction of needs and habits? In this life, are we all meant to be heroes? Or just some anonymous background roles. Do others exist or is it just me?

For a while now I have been separated from my senses, I do what I hate and forget what I need, to live. All my words make perfect sense if one knows the clew. and the Clew is always in time and place. My hand pulses as my nerves are over stressed. I want to hide somewhere where it's quiet. Solitude is a warm blessing sometimes in a busy demanding life.

It's been couple of days, didn't talk with God for a while, something in me is not alright. Maybe because of the now career I have begun. Starting over when I am almost Thirty! Will I make it somewhere? Will I see the vision fulfilled? Tired, so tired. Exhausted and beat. My body kills itself and my brain wastes itself, my life slips out of my hands and my breath cease. I have lost the warmth of life as I froze my inner feelings. HE said "go & do" and I went and did, but the price was so dear. Sometimes HE shows dreams and visions so bright and pretty, so good but the price is not always like so. Most of the time, a Life is paid in ransom. A slow and painful death is the only way to make sure other lives flourish.

Die seed die. you shall then live, and even if you don't others shall. You, little seed are good weather you win or loose a fight for your breath and sunshine. If you die you feed a worm and if you live you feed a man, then the worm but surface and the birds get you. I saw you swollen, I saw you rapturing, I sow some hope when your step pushed up. I saw some little roots, but will I live to see the fruits? O life of mine, when will you shine. When will you show, and what I believed would grow? When will I reach the end to what I started? The purpose of what I was granted? Sweet sweet day will I see your dawn? will the masks of your mysteries be blown? Will you come and stay, or leave and take me away? Spin O Earth and spin, release the power within, let today go away and bring tomorrow to the bay. I lived for tomorrow so long that I don't feel time. As if someone stole my rhyme. Don't misunderstand me for one who grumbles or whines, I love my life, but I miss so much.

A vision is a blessing but it pushes its seer to a loop darkness. One sees the bright sunlight then enters a dark room sees nothing but is blinded by what he saw. Science speak words of knowledge to be fathomed by the wise in heart. The wise knows things that Intellectuals may not link together. For the knowledge and understanding of time is half the wisdom. Recognizing the time and foreseeing beyond is only given and not taken. The ancient wise man knew that and testified that the peeks of wisdom are the fear of God. Any wise man would confirm, but the proud would desperately argue, but the words of the wise stand tall through the test of time not the proof of words.

Swinging between the peeks of wisdom and the pits of ignorance. But within me is a will and a determination, a persistent heart that keeps me sleepless and crying out loud with unquenchable pitch of thirst that is never fulfilled but by the springs of God.

My words cease.

Draft thoughts

Years, I spent wandering in this puzzling, wondering what's the rule or the law that binds it all together. Looking for the one in a million million instance when all those rules break apart where supernatural things happen. What's love? And what's life? Are we meant to live a random life where love and marriage is just another trick or treat? Is love a feeling or a meaning or a motive? Is love a spiritual gift or is it just another satisfaction of needs and habits? In this life, are we all meant to be heroes? Or just some anonymous background roles. Do others exist or is it just me?

For a while now I have been separated from my senses, I do what I hate and forget what I need, to live. All my words make perfect sense if one knows the clew. and the Clew is always in time and place. My hand pulses as my nerves are over stressed. I want to hide somewhere where it's quiet. Solitude is a warm blessing sometimes in a busy demanding life.

It's been couple of days, didn't talk with God for a while, something in me is not alright. Maybe because of the now career I have begun. Starting over when I am almost Thirty! Will I make it somewhere? Will I see the vision fulfilled?