I have realized

I have realized I'm strongest when I admit I'm weak
I have realized I'm a winner when I accept defeat
I have realized I'm happiest when not afraid to weep
I have realized I can fly when I let go off my feet

I have realized its invigorating when I let go
I have realized that love can be reborn
I have realized its cruel to scorn a broken heart
I have realized that acceptance can heal my soul

I have realized that existing is different from living
I have realized that perishing is different from dying
I have realized that death is just the start of the road
I have realized the road is just the start of death

I have realized that blood gives life, but gold does not
I have realized that the sky is endless, but pearls are not
I have realized that I'm richer when I let go of what I got
I have realized I'm more when I refuse that others are less

I have realized that time is an illusion that never exists
I have realized its a circle - and a circle has no end
I have realized that its my innocence that I most miss
I have realized that in pursuing, there is much I missed

And that was the sea

It was morning and the sun shone with a vengeance down on me. But that didn't deter me from going out. I put on my sneakers, favorite t-shirt and went out walking.

Lost in my thought, a distinct smell crept up my nose. It was the sea. For a person who does not live in a seaside city or town, I love the sea too much. My feet took me there, for there was no other place I was meant to be.

As the fine sand of the beach found its way into my sneakers, I could hear children laugh. They were running around the beach, a couple throwing a ball, while another was building castles in the sand. Many were wading in the sea, splashing water on each other, dodging waves and giggling as the water hit their faces.

It was happiness and good times. It was fun in the sun.

And that was the sea.

Sweating after my walk in the dazzling sun, I took off my clothes and took off my sneakers. I loved the feeling of the sand under my feet as I walked towards the sea. The cold water tickled my toes as the waves broke on the beach and in a minute, I was neck deep in the sea. The water was crystal clear and I could see schools of fish jotting around.

Invigorating. Rejuvenating. It was like being reborn.

And that was the sea.

Then the beach faded. And the shoreline disappeared. I was on a ship. The ship sailed gracefully through the calm waters. All around me were people with mixed emotions. The ship was loaded with dreams and fears. Loaded with hopes and broken hearts. But most importantly, it was far from the shoreline. It was in the middle of the sea. All there was now was the sea. It was the source of all the mixed emotions. It was home to the dreams of a wonderful life for the newly-wed, but it was also home to the broken heart of the lady leaving her family behind.

And that was the sea.

Then a storm stole over us. Suddenly, the clear blue sky was gone, and so was the tranquil slow rocking of the ship as it gleefully cut through the sea. The storm raged, and the sea was angry. Senseless anger, the kind that swallows everything up. Suddenly all emotions disappeared. There was only the anger - and the fear it spurns in the hearts of people.

The sea raged in anger. It was senseless, it was unequivocal. What did the storm do to anger the sea so badly? There was no logic in the anger. It was just an intense flood of emotion that wrapped itself around everyone, and put everyone at risk. No one was safe of the sea's fury. The ship tossed and turned like a leaf in the autumn winds. Salty water splashed my face and burned my eyes and nostrils. Even the creatures living in the sea, those that love the sea, were hurt by the anger. It was gloomy under the darkened sky and the sea was dark and murky. For everyone who tasted the sea's temper, there was fear of perishing in it.

And that was the sea.

Then the storm passed, and as quickly as it came, the anger faded away. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The sea was full of love for all living things again. It became extra calm to make up for the storm. It took care to spur gentle winds to help the ship reach its aim. The dark, foreboding waters gave way to clear turquoise waters again. The dolphins and fish jumped happily as they were treated to extra food by the sea. Suddenly the ship was close to shore again and the sea was dotted with fishermen boats. The fishermen pulled in nets full of fish. The extra calm meant extra fish. Extra fish meant extra money.

The sea was giving. The sea was kind.

And that was the sea.

And I stood on the shore and looked out at the sea. It was a million things at the same time. And it reminded me of someone.

The sea was special. The sea was me.

Children Fairies

A child should never - under any conditions - be subjected to deliberate pain.

Pain is inevitable. Every child will bruise their legs or cut their hands while playing. When I was a little boy I have probably fallen over 17 trillion times while playing in the garden or with friends or something. Every wound has healed over the years with very few leaving scars that remind me now of great times. But deliberate pain never heals - even when its scars do. And it does not hold good memories at all.

By their nature, children are innocent and pure. They may be mischievous, but are not evil. They may be annoying, but are not bad. They are just taking their time to explore the vast world they are brought in at their own rate and their own way.

This is their nature, this is the way they are. That is the beauty of a child.

Now think of a child as a fairy. Imagine that every single little boy and girl are all fairies with beautiful fragile golden wings. Their wings take them places. They see things and learn things and evolve in their own ways. They are not held down by gravity like grown-ups. They have wings to take them further up.

The wings take them places grown-ups don't even understand. After all, how can one understand what they do not know is there?

And the little children keep flying higher and higher. There is no limit to where they can go. They never get tired. The more their wings flap., the more their imagination fuels them on. The higher they fly, the more they see and learn...and the more grown-ups will not understand them.

But then, humans are not known for dealing well with things they don't understand. Our history speaks of it. We destroy what we don't' understand with no remorse.

Failing to understand the children, some parents think their kids are 'bad' or 'undisciplined'. To solve the problem, parents can go to insane extremes. The truth of the matter, they just don't understand their kids. Discipline was never meant to hold people back. Children are not meant to be disciplined 24 hours a day. If they did, they would never fly too far up - they would never know their true potential.

To enforce discipline, some parents resort to pain. They beat their children up to 'force some discipline into them'. The problem is that the children's little fairy wings are very very fragile. Slowly they tear and break.

Pretty soon, the children are trying to fly up into their own world but their wings just can't carry them anymore. They flap as hard as they can, but they just don't rise from the ground. They are becoming more and more like adults. There is one major problem though. Most adults manage to bring things back from their flights during their childhoods. But these children never got the chance to bring anything back. They grow up never knowing how to fly.

As their wings stop flapping, their imagination starts to fail. Slowly, their light starts to wane till it finally dies away.

A child should never - under any conditions - be subjected to deliberate pain. Period.

Perspectives

Reality is the most over-rated illusion there ever was.

I don't know what people mean when they say something "is real." It always bugged me. How do you define 'real'? Is it something you see and hear and feel? But the senses are different from one person to the other. Is it something who's nature people can agree about? There never was something that everyone could agree about. So what is 'real'?

The truth is I don't believe in reality. It does not exist. Reality to each of us is how each of us conceives the world around them. In essence, when we speak of reality we are actually talking about perspectives. I believe in perspectives, we each have our own different perspectives on things.

Take for example food. To my reality, eggs taste better than anything else. To one of the closest people in the world to me, eggs smell and taste worse than most things in the world. That is a difference of perspectives. A difference of how we both relate to the egg. We both have our different sets of reality.

This extends to how we relate to our environments as well. I see rain and it makes me happy, I run down the stairs and take a walk in the rain and enjoy getting wet. I enjoy the twinkling drops of water left on leaves and the washed look of the streets. To another person, the rain is a source of gloom. It forced them to cancel a beautiful picnic out in the park in the beautiful afternoon sun.

I loved the rain. They hated the rain. But the rain is not different, it's our perspectives that are.

Making a memory

Memories are peculiar on so many levels. No one understands why some memories last a few seconds while others last a lifetime. Why is it that I forgot most people I met this year while I remember childhood friends that I haven't seen in over 15 years?

For so many years, I have strove to meet new people. Usually I drift into their lives, affect them in several ways, and then drift out again - forgotten. I don't mind it. I'm used to it and I do believe that in part, this is my role in life. I just hope that the effects I leave on their lives are mostly positive. Thus, even when I'm forgotten, a part of me lives on.

But sometimes I don't want to be forgotten. I want to create a memory with someone. I want to live in their minds for a lifetime - even after I'm long gone. Memories are still peculiar, but I have realized that they mostly live in first times. The first times of everything are always the time when memories are created. The first time you ran away from school - you'll remember who jumped the fence with you. The first time you have a crash on someone - you'll always remember who they were for the rest of your life.

I have tried to make memories with every meaningful person who has entered my life. This could be the smallest thing to the biggest thing. It doesn't matter how serious or ridiculous it is, memories of first-times are always the strongest.

This way I'm sure that even when I disappear from their lives, there will always be things that will remind them of me. This has been so important to me because these people are so important to me.

Do you share any first-time memories with me? :)

Endings and beginnings

It is funny how things end and others begin. Sometimes endings are really good. When bad things end, good things are usually beginning. That is the way hope survives among humans. And hope is the only reason humans survive on a day-to-day basis.

It is unclear, however, what happens when something good ends. Sometimes things in life don't make sense. How can you make sense of ending something good? Why would you do it? It is usually for the hope of starting something better - but what if you are unsure of what the new thing would be like?

How many times did you leave a job for "something better" only to be faced by bitter disappointment?

And what about the "perfect thing"? Why would you end it if you have the perfect thing? Where do you move on from perfect? You hope for something better, but does that even make sense?

Endings are such a special time for everything. It is at the ending that things usually make most sense and you finally are able to appreciate that thing - or look at it bitterly if it was bad - and judge it for its true value. Every load and lie is stripped off at the ending and we are only left with the bare truth.

Beginnings are also special because it is there that you are most excited. Every beginning is exciting - even beginnings of bad things. It is the time when we, as humans, are re-energized to continue with life. Beginnings are essential for humans to keep moving through life meaningfully. Once something drags on for too long, we lose interest, and that is when we actually start losing that thing. That is the signal for the need for an ending.

This extends to every situation, even life itself. The birth of a child is always so exciting. It is energizing. It is the time of dreams and plans. The world is your oyster now. And then life starts to drag on and eventually, in death, people start to look at how that person lived their lives. They are then either appreciated - or despised.

Everything - no matter how good - must be laid to rest. It is only my dream that it gives birth to something better...and maybe that a little of the perfection drags on into the new thing.

The perfect dream

I have said many times before that I am a dreamer. I dream of things that make me happy. But today I chose to dream up a world.

Bear with me as I take you into the world I created. The world as it was always meant to be. The perfect world.

In my world, humans are beautiful creatures. They are creatures made of love. Love for nature, love for life, love for each other. In my dreams humans do not form clans and groups. Humans don't go to extremes to try to find things to differentiate between each other.

My dream, after all, is made of complete love. Love is blind, and that is practically the beauty of my dream world.

In m dream, your color doesn't make a difference. It really doesn't make a difference, not the crappy lie that the real world is living right now. Black, white, brown, yellow, there is beauty in all. And inside the skin, there really is no difference at all. The souls all look the same. The souls don't recognize the skin color, only we do.

In the world I created, there are no boundaries between countries. We are all one. We are all of Earth. We don't need to differentiate by calling someone an American and another a Bangladeshi. Strip everything away and you have two identical people, each struggling to make it through life in their own way and with their own dreams.

In my dream, parents are not instilling racist sentiments into their little kids. White parents are not freaking out when they see their child playing ball with a black kid. Rich people are not screaming at their children because they made friends with the doorman's child.

In my dream, people are not fighting over religion. They are finally able to understand that they have 90% in common. They finally realize they can't stay fixated on the 10% they don't agree on and they are able to endorse the beauty of all religions combined. Muslims, Christians and Jews are able to hang out and talk and laugh. There is no hate amongst them for my world was built on love.

Out of love there is no need to kill and hurt. There is no reason to scare your fellow human. In my world, everyone realizes that each human is so precious. Each human, no matter how 'different' is as important as the whole world. People care for each other. People help each other and take the time to carry their weak through instead of leaving them behind.

We really are not so different. The only problem is we go to extents in order to differentiate between each other. It's funny, of all the species on Earth, this is an exclusive characteristic of humans. Every other species is trying to find ways to band together in order to be stronger. But with humans, they are always searching for ways to differentiate. Think about everything that is happening and you'll realize that everyday we come up with new ways of labeling each other, of forming clans, in order to be differentiated further.

Every time we abolish one type of racism, we create two. It is sad.

In my perfect world, there are no differences at all. No blacks, no whites, no territories, no countries, no different beliefs. There is only humanity, love, dignity and respect for each other.

This is my dream world. As fake as can be - as real as can be.

If it's crazy to dream, then I will adore my lost mentality forever.

Welcome to my type of world.

People on the street

The streets are crowded. There are so many people coming and going.

In a typical day I travel to work, hang out there for several hours, then go back home.

In a typical day such as that one, I usually meet anything from 100-600 people I guess. The greatest bulk of those are complete strangers. Chances are most of them are people I will never meet again, and if I do, I won't even recognize them.

Yet it's amazing what simple moments can teach us. I believe that every encounter means something - that in every encounter with another human being there is something to be learned. There's a way to evolve.

The only problem is that we are sometimes too preoccupied with ourselves to notice the lessons.

Sometimes we are too arrogant to notice the lessons.

Whatever the reason, often these critical lessons of life are missed. And that is just sad.

I have learned the majority of what I know about life from observing other people. I have learned from everyone and I hope I can continue to do that. The highest - and lowest - person in the world has the potential of changing us.

Through accepting that, I have found joy in looking at people as I walk or drive down the street. I'm thrilled to see what people are doing when I'm waiting for the train. Every smile, laugh or snarl is a look into the human soul.

As every person holds a piece of the jigsaw, every time I learn something I'm one step closer to completing the puzzle. The puzzle of life. The one thing I'll always strive for.

What I have learned is to never underestimate what others can teach us casually. Everything happens for a reason, no matter how random and insignificant it seems at times.

I'll always remember coming out in a foreign street in a foreign country and meeting someone who would later change my life in many ways. Had I missed the signs then I would've missed some of the most beautiful things in life.

Clouds

When I was very young, I thought that clouds were cotton candy.

That was a lot of cotton candy, enough to satisfy every single hyperactive kid in the world. No one was eating it though which meant that I could have quite a lot of it! I used to devise all manners of ingenious ways of reaching the clouds.

Later on as I grew up, I was taught that clouds are just water vapor. That came as a huge disappointment to me. It made more sense that they were made of cotton candy. They look more like cotton candy than water vapor to me. They were more exciting as cotton candy than water vapor to me.

Every time I’m on a plane, and as we pass above the clouds, I look down and I think how much the clouds still look like cotton candy. Then I remember what I was taught in school and I’m all disappointed again.

As I was on a plane going to South Africa, I looked at the clouds and I thought they don’t look like cotton candy today. The clouds were really dense together. They looked more like powdered sugar that went humid. You know how it starts forming irregular patches? That is exactly what it looked like to me.

Then I realized it was water vapor. What a let down!

Why is it that no matter how much time passes by, the first thing that comes to mind when I look at clouds is just not water vapor. The extremely scientific background I have should actually make it easier for me to see the water vapor rather than cotton candy.

I guess some things from our childhood never die away no matter what. But I also wonder, do I even want to lose those childhood ‘fantasies’? If I look at the clouds and see water vapor, then they would be so boring.

I always look at the clouds. I actually love seeing the clouds and their shapes. I know that there are people who don’t even notice the clouds. Maybe, because the clouds became so mundane when they accepted their nature, those people just lost interest in them.

I can’t imagine losing interest in the clouds!

I could list all the things that still stick to me from my childhood, but I’m afraid I would sound ridiculous :)


What childhood beliefs have stuck along into your adult lives? Lets see how ridiculous it can get! :)

Angels

There are angels on Earth.

It may be rather rare, but sometimes we may run into them. Not the wingy type of angels, more like human angels. They are every bit human, alive and mortal, but they have something extra. They have a saving grace.

I met an angel a few weeks ago. I didn't know it then but later I realized that she is one. She doesn't realize she's an angel, they never do. Even when they are told they are angels, they don't really understand/believe it.

"I don't really know how to be angry at someone. It is not that I forgive easily, I really don't know how to be mad at someone in the first place"

Her words rang in my ear for days and days like I just heard them an hour ago. She is of the purest heart. She was not pretending, she was not trying to impress. She was sincere in ways I have forgotten throughout my life. She is not capable of hurting anyone. She is not even capable of acknowledging when someone hurts her. For that, angels suffer the brutality of humanity more than others. People tend to abuse those who they think are weak. But angels are not weak, they are very strong. It is just their nature that makes them this way. It is their choice.

But this is not all that makes them angels. What really makes them angels is their aura. They have an aura of goodness that surrounds them all the time. People rarely see it. It's not physical, and humans are so attuned to only acknowledging what's physical. But the aura is there and it is so strong. When I met that angel, I knew there was something special. I could not see the aura but I felt it - and I felt it every strongly.

Their goodness aura brings out the best in people. No matter how horrible we are, there is always at least a grain of goodness in us. In the presence of an angel, that grain of goodness will come to the top. In a way, their presence makes us better people, better partners, better co-workers and better businessmen.

Ironically, it is that same goodness aura that makes them burn out early. It is so cruel, but it is the truth. And when one of them burns out, they are left an empty shell struggling to find their place in a life that they can't recognize. A life they are too pure for.

I am so happy to have met that angel. For I need someone to bring out the little good in me every now and then.

If she burns out, it would truly break my heart. For I know what she is better than everyone else.

I'm so grateful to have her as my friend.

The Storyteller

It was hard to walk against the wind. The sands of the desert flew against my face and hurt my eyes.

The sun glazed down with a vengeance. I walked on - determined and motivated by what I did not know. I had to fight against the forces of nature which teamed up against me.

Suddenly he was standing there. He was an unimpressive sight. In another time and place he would have merely been a face among the crowd.

"Why have you come?" he said as he looked me in the eyes. As he did so, his eyes bore into my soul.

All the forces of nature that I had been fighting against suddenly stopped. They too were listening intently to know the answer to the man's question.

I spoke of my quest for knowledge. There is so much to know and learn. I had come in search of the storyteller, and I had found him. I wondered if I deserved to hear what he had to say.

"Tell me of the worlds that died away"

"No world has every died"

"But no one knows of them but you now"

"That is why I'm the storyteller. I'm the keeper of tales. The worlds live inside of me."

"Will you speak to me of them then?"

"The question is not whether I would speak of them. The question is whether you would hear of them."

And he spoke. It was a one-man audience, but there were millions of listeners. The wind dropped to a breeze that surrounded us. The sands rose to hear the words of the storyteller. The clouds drew closer, keen to learn. And he spoke. And his words became magic.

He spoke of kings and castles, of wars and love. He spoke of dragons with wings that covered the lands when they spread. He spoke of angels and demons, of death and rebirth, of magic and fairies. His words created worlds of sea pirates and space travelers.

And as he spoke, the magic began to materialize. I was not hearing anymore. Slowly my world was stripped away and I was taken to a million worlds with the storyteller. I was a king and peddler. I was a god amongst the pagan gods. And he kept talking, and his words stripped my reality and built his stories. I was the hero of every story and I was the least important character of each story. I was a sea pirate and a space traveler.

And slowly the worlds started to disappear and I was in the desert again. In front of me stood an old man. On any other day he would have merely been a face among the crowd. But he was not.

He was the storyteller. He was the creator of worlds.

As he looked at me, he smiled. Not another word was uttered. They were not needed. Everything that needed to be said had already been said. Everything that needed to be learned had been taught.

Words were the weakest mode of communication.

The winds sighed in satisfaction. The sands settled in peace. All nature has shared in the experience of the storyteller.

I understood the storyteller's smile. He was happy. His worlds now lived inside of me. He has been immortalized. Yet he was also satisfied. My worlds now lived inside of him as well. I have been immortalized.

I had never grown up. I refused to let go. I had chosen to remain a little boy inside forever.

So has the storyteller.

Global citizen

I learned something new today. I learned that every time I travel somewhere, a part of that place is imprinted into my soul. Somehow, I become that place. I keep it inside of me forever and even though I will never have a passport for it, I become a citizen – in my own way.

If my life remains the way it has been so far, and I'm certainly hoping that it does, then I might one day become a global citizen. I'd belong everywhere. Now this may sound nice when you say it out loud, it might sound like the solution to all of Mankind's problems. But I believe that it comes with its share of problems.

Once you become a global citizen, you lose 90% of your link to your original citizenship. You don't feel part of it anymore. A global citizen has assimilated so many different cultures that they just lose their original. I met a global citizen the past 2 days, she has confirmed this exactly as I always thought.

I don't know if that will be good for me or not. All I know is that I am on an incredible journey of discovery. I have always strived on discovery, even when I didn't know it. Learning about everything and everywhere is all I ever really care about doing in my life. Good or bad, I can't wait to be a global citizen.

I have just assimilated a new culture. Every success and every failure – it's all inside of me. It didn't take too long either. Three days in Amman, Jordan, were enough for that. I have walked streets that residents never did. I believe there's no better way to know a city or town than walking its streets. I loved the mysterious Arabian atmosphere of the place. It has its very own and distinct aura.

Built on hillsides, the city is a maze of narrow streets going steeply up or down. It's like an old medieval city – even though it's not that old. Some friends drove me up a high hill and I looked down and it was one of the most fantastic things I have ever seen. Spreading down in front of me in the valley and all the way up on the side of the hill opposite the one I was standing on lay Amman. My only regret is that I did not have my camera on me at that time. However, that was a missed chance to capture this beauty for other people's eyes. But it will live in my eyes forever.

I think many people will not enjoy Amman. But absolutely loved it. It depends really on what you are looking for. If you go out looking for something fancy, you'll hate Amman and you'll love a place like Dubai and everything it stands for. If you are like me, however, out to see something special, to see a culture, then Amman is the place for you. I hate Dubai. I think it's a generic, cold, lifeless city. But Amman is the ideal Arabic city vibrant with architecture and a life that is local to this area of the world. A very very wonderful person I met there took me to a cafe called "Old View". The cafe, located on a hilltop, overlooks the old segment of the city. We went there at sunset. The old city lay on the hillside, with old beautiful mosques dotted between the homes and the old citadel (or what remains of it) standing at the top of one of the hills. This is what I traveled here to see. This is what Dubai will never be.

The people who live here have got to be the friendliest people in the world. Everyone I met has been extremely nice and welcoming to me. It was beautiful! I came here with no friends and I'm leaving with many people that I hold very dear in my heart. The variations of friends I made is also something that always bring a smile to my face. From the clubbing wild group to the kind intelligent girl. From the Jordanian to people from a dozen different countries. My trip had it all, and I shared something with all.

I would love to come back to this place. There are secrets hidden beneath the sands, things waiting to be learned. I have so much more to absorb out of it and I can't wait to do it. But meanwhile, there are other cultures waiting for me.

'Is life really bad?'

"Is life really bad?"

"Yes I think life is bad. Why are you asking?"

"Because everyone tells me it is bad - for once I wish someone would tell me otherwise"

And then there were tears in her eyes.

Ever since I had this conversation, I can't stop thinking about her words. The question came so suddenly. We were just driving in the car and listening to good music. It was such a desperate search that I could practically smell despair in the question.

In the darkest night, she was just looking for something keep her alive – to keep her sane. She was grasping desperately for a reason to live. Once you believe with your body and soul that life is horrible, then I don't see a single reason to live it. By that I don't mean suicide, but there are many people alive but not living. They become like zombies.

She turned to me to find that reason for life. When she turned to me, I killed her with my words. Harsh words, but they are all I knew. They were all I felt. I was desperate too.

I think that a lot of how we see the world really falls down to how others perceive the world. And that is what I learned today.

Just by learning that, I realize I've destroyed the lives of many many people who believed in me and my views of the world. When I gave up, I caused many others to give up. The failure just multiplied. And maybe when I gave up, it was due to someone else giving up. And it can continue to no end.

I find it very scary to know that I may wield that kind of power. And if it is so, then how can I give up without selfishly causing someone else to give up too?

It's similar to the butterfly effect.

As I was walking down the road thinking about all this, I passed by a garbage collector. The old man looked at me with kind eyes. It felt like he could read into me somehow – yet we've never met before. I smiled at him as I passed by and suddenly I stopped.

"How are you doing today," I asked him.

"I'm thankful to God. Life is good and I'm just fine," came the unexpected reply with an unexpected smile.

But life was not good for the old man. I knew it. I could see it. He was struggling through life in the most severe of ways. But he wasn't lying either. That was how he perceived the world. That could very well be the result of someone who showed the old man that life was not bad. Someone who has given him hope. While he was barely surviving, he was alive.

He was lucky he didn't know me. Maybe I would have done to him what I did to her.

I remain confused on how to solve the dilemma. If I have lost hope, if I have given up, how can I make sure I don't pass this along to others?

Learning

There is more to learn than what I can manage in a lifetime.

It was very disappointing when I learned that fact. I wanted to know everything. I strive for knowledge in the most hungry of ways but yet I realized that the intricate nature of the universe prevented complete satisfaction in this regard.

However, many people won't agree with me.

Most people measure their lives in time. This is the least imaginative way to measure life. From this prospective, you are sure you live just as many years as you have during your lifetime. No reason to be disappointed.

Others use a slightly more imaginative and creative way to measure life, through achievements. These may be disappointed or may not. It comes down to the amount of achievements they are striving for. Satisfaction will depend on whether they are able to achieve everything they hoped for in their lifetime or not.

A few others choose to measure their lives by what they learn in it. The hunger for more knowledge, for more understanding of everything, is what drives them forward. It is here that people will always be disappointed. No lifetime will ever be sufficient to take everything in. It is in this group that I reside. I try to assimilate every learnable thing in the world. I don't care much for education - it's learning for life that truly interests me.

Whatever group you fall into, not one group is better than the others. It's just different needs and different shades of gray of essentially the same thing - the search for something substantial. This is the one need that every human being on Earth is pursuing, it's just that the needs can differ amongst us. In this light, there are probably an endless number of other groups that people fall into.


What group do you think you fall into?

Make life make sense

Today as I stepped out of work, I breathed my weekly sigh of relief. Finally it was the weekend. It is amazing how long the weeks are becoming. I thought that keeping myself busy with work would make the week shorter - but it's not working. The weeks keep becoming longer and longer. Ironically, the weekends are becoming shorter (since some work is seeping into them as well!)

As I put my earphones on and turned on the music, I decided to go for shuffle. There are over 2000 songs on my iPod so I'm bound to be surprised. It's interesting when you try that out and you get little signs. As the song played out, the first line of it send me thinking for many hours to come. The song starts like this:

It's down to this,
I've got to make this life make sense
Can anyone tell what I've done
I miss the life
I miss the colors of the world
Can anyone tell where I am

The words hit the nail. So many times when I'm walking alone or something I feel like the colors are seeping out of my life. It's becoming so incredible mundane - missing the vibes that have always defined it. Ironically, I did this myself. I forced those changes in an effort to find something that I once lost in my world.

It feels so strange when you build a world for so many years - you feel it is so incredibly refined and stabilized - then it's wiped out in mere seconds. The years sometimes fool us into a sense of security. We think we have created perfection if it last for so many years. The truth is, our worlds are created from our past experiences. They are built to resist the things we already know. But if there's one thing I've always known - it's that no one has known everything yet.

We build our worlds with layers upon layers of security against all the pains and faults of the past, but the moment something new comes along it can completely wipe out those worlds.

What I don't understand however, is why some of us are able to prevent anything new from invading their nurtured worlds while others have their worlds wiped out dozens of times. I squarely fall into the second category.

World after world that I have created for myself has somehow failed tremendously leaving a barren wasteland behind. It is not easy to start all over again. It never is. And the longer it is you've been creating your world, the harder it is when it comes crashing down.

So many worlds I created have been destroyed to be replaced by something new. It is just so darn hard this time around. This world was so intricately protected thanks to dozens of failures in the past. I have been creating and refining it for so many years. Yet all of a sudden, it comes crashing down. What is even worse is that it doesn't even leave and scraps with which to start a new world.

It's down to this, I've got to make this life make sense

But worlds - especially mine - strive on being senseless. That's the magic that holds them together. Does that mean that making sense of my life will make it vanish?

In the bathroom

Let me tell you an everyday story.

I was sitting in the bathroom doing bathroomy things. The bathroom, in my opinion, is a perfect place to speculate by the way :)

Now, sitting in the bathroom I saw something amazing. I saw a cockroach crawl out of the drain in the floor.

Now, like the next person, I hate cockroaches. And also like the next person in line, I don't know why I hate them, it's just an inherent feeling passed down from one generation to the other. Coupled with years and years of conditioning, I just hate the cockroach for unexplained reasons.

Sitting there I looked at the cockroach with hate. I didn't want it in my bathroom. I didn't like the fact we were sharing the bathroom. So I decided to get rid of it. I didn't want to get up and kill it. As much as I hate cockroaches somewhere along the line I decided to refrain as much as possible from killing living creatures, including insects.

Quick thinking on my side (that's me!) and I decided on the best line of action. I grabbed the detachable shower (thank God for detachable showers) and turned it on in the direction of the cockroach. Now at this stage some might wonder what the hell I'm doing. Well it's simple. My plan was to use the water to wash the cockroach down the drain again. Skillfully, I used the water to direct the sliding direction of the cockroach back to the drain. in less than a minute it was back in the drain. I smiled. Mission accomplished with no shedding of blood.

A minute later, the cockroach worked it's way out again. Persistent isn't it? I repeated the same line of defense, washing it back into the drain.

This was repeated 5 times exactly. Everytime it would work its way out of the drain, I'd wash it back in with the water. Then after much struggling, it would come out again.

It was at this point when I decided a change of action. Lets zoom all the way into the mind of the cockroach. I decided to see things its way. I decided to become the cockroach.

"Coming out of the drain, I hit heaven. Life is so disgusting down there. I hate it. But this place is amazing. It's so huge and the ceiling is so high. There are many places for me to crawl to. It's clean and it smells so good. Finally I find a place like this! I have worked so hard climbing out of the slums for this place."

Now zoom back out, and you have me hit the cockroach with water to push it back down the drain.

"Oh where is all that water coming from?! I can't hold on...it's taking me back to the drain but I don't want to go back there...I worked so hard to be here and I'm not going to be denied that! I want a better life that's all."

Mission accomplished. Cockroach down the drain. But it decides to crawl back up again.

"I want a better life. I will not give up. Even if I'm pushed back to where I started I will just gather my strength and go in stronger again. I have seen a better life - I can't settle for the sewers anymore. I know there's better out there. I must try again even if it kills me."

As it crawled out one more time, I understood.

The cockroach wanted just what I wanted. A better life. It hurt to be denied that. Just like it hurt me to be denied that.

At that point I decided I'm not going to kill the cockroach. Others might not appreciate the fact but I can't do it anymore. I can't deny others what I yearn for.

I got up and left the bathroom.

I learned from the cockroach what many people will never understand.

The Dreamers

I have lived in millions of worlds. I have seen the most incredible of things. I have known things that would sweep minds away.

I have been a pirate and an astronaut. I have ruled the whole world as the most benevolent of kings and as the most wicked tyrant.

I have walked amongst the ancient pagan gods in their heavenly palaces. I flew across the world on golden wings and surfed the underwaters with no air.

I talked to every single animal, insect and disease and lived their lives in every detail.

I met aliens from thousands of different galaxies and traveled to every corner of the universe with them.

And that is just the smallest glimpse of some of the millions of worlds I have visited. Every single one of them created with ultimate love and care. I made my home in the land of imagination, where everything is perfected like I want it to be. I have dreamed up my own existence.

Some people argue that it is all false - all lies - that it is not there.

To me, each one of those worlds is as real as the real life. I love them and I have a full community going on there!

The key lies in imagination. Such a magic word. A world-opening word. I believe that everyone is born full of imagination. If you want to see the complete magic of it, watch a few kids playing. Their imagination breeds the most interesting and strange games. They will create a game out of anything, even an old cardboard box or some crushed tin cans. That is the beauty of imagination. Wherever you look, there is something more than what the dullness of life offers.

Somewhere along the line as people grow, however, they start losing their imagination. I don't know why it happens. Maybe the rigors of life kill something inside of us. Maybe maturity and imagination cannot co-exist. Whatever the reason is, 99% of people lose their imagination as they grow up. They end up in a dry, materialistic world where nothing that you can't see with your two eyes exists.

But a trickle of people don't lose their touch with imagination. They grow up with it and it becomes part of who they are. They live every moment of it like they did when they were children. I call them the dreamers. They are responsible for everything in this world.

From the greatest scientists to the greatest playwrights and artists, imagination is the thread that led to everything fantastic. They dreamed up flying, traveling to space, Lord of the Rings....everything. They set the trend that the others - the non-dreamers - follow in. Their imagination is the spice of life.

I choose to be a dreamer - and I refuse to have it any other way.

While many dreamers from Einstein to Shakespeare have affected my life, I will forever be indebted to sir James Berrie, the creator of Peter Pan. Berrie found the world of Peter Pan when he became a child among children. He lived life their way. It was the purest type of imagination - the imagination of a child - that gave us Neverland.

Of all the worlds I have created in my mind, none is as special and unique and beautiful as Neverland. Thank you Berrie for all the years you've taught me how to see Neverland.

For all it's worth, to me it was perfect.




Are you a dreamer?

Respect

Today is World Environment Day. I decided to do something good about the environment so I took the train to work instead of my car. I reached the station and went to get a ticket. While standing in line to buy one, another guy came in and cut the line in front of me. I politely pointed out there is a queue.

Apparently the guy didn't like what I said. He turned around, cursed and swore at me, and decided I was stupid because I was "half standing in the line". To be honest I still don't understand what that expression is. However, my deduction is he meant that I was leaving a little space between myself and the guy in front of me in the line. Seems that I have to be sticking to his butt in order to be part of a line that our insulting friend would accept.

The funny thing is he actually got the ticket before me, and not a single person said a word. No one was bothered that they were all disrespected and not just me. The moment he ignored their rights and decided he should get a ticket before them - even though it's their turn - he effectively disrespected them.


All I ask for is respect.

To respect and be respected. However, it seems that this is asking too much.

I want my privacy respected, my rights respected, my morals respected and most importantly I want my humanity respected. Am I asking too much when I ask for respect?

Why does it feel like such a natural thing inside of me when everywhere I look it seems so alien?

I don't want to feel disrespected every time I step out of my house. It sometimes gets so frustrating that I feel like I just don't want to go out anymore.

I will not succumb to the temptation to give in.

I refuse disrespect and embrace respect. Respect for every single thing in the world.

I choose it all throughout my life and will fight for it. I know I'm not alone, there are others out there like me and we will get through together.

I will respect until I am respected; either in this life or in another.

At least this way I will die with dignity.

But who am I kidding? Of all people, I know pretty well that there is no dignity in death.

Loneliness

It was just another hot night.

Dusty polluted air filled my lungs every time I tried to take a deep breath. Why is it that some nights feel darker than other nights? How come there is darker than dark? It doesn't make sense, but the night was darker than normal.

As I stood there, surrounded by everyone in the world, I couldn't see a soul. As I reached out, all I touched is the warm and moist air.

How can one make sense of the senseless? That has somehow become an eternal quest, a struggle I have to endure. Unlike pretty much everything in my life, this was not particularly my choice either.

Everyone is talking and smiling but I can hear no one - and no one can hear me. I get up and leave. I walk away from everything. I'm off to search for something else. To search for something that makes sense. Normally, there's sense to be made even in my most confused state of mind. There's always sense to fall back on, to feel safe with.

But somewhere along the line, I lost that safety net.

As I walk out into the night that is darker than normal, I struggle to breathe the think air. I wish I at least had a shadow to keep me company. Yet at the same time I'm savoring in the loneliness resulting from the world disappearing. Does that make sense?

I'm so excited. My excitement creeps slowly over the depression of the loneliness.

Yet there is something that I need, something I search for. Something - or someone?

Flashing lights of cars passing by, horns blazing away, a plane scopes closer for the landing. Slowly the world is stripped away from all that. They're there - but they have already disappeared.

Or I have disappeared.

Yet I want to be with someone. I want to feel her life for the rest of my life. To drink of her dream as long as I dream. I just need to get closer.

But when the world disappears - what will still remain?

I take more steps into the ever darkening night. And as it all disappears, I smile.

The less there is, the more there becomes somehow.

I've never been so alone - and I've never felt so alive

The Smirk

So life is not perfect. I have come to terms with that. We all have all kind of shit to deal with. We go through a long long day at work, go home looking forward to a good night's rest, only to be bombarded by disaster after the next.

We all have methods of dealing with our problems, some more successful than others, but we all work something out. This is how we get through life after all. The problem isn't having to deal with the problems exactly however. My main problem is having to go to work again the next morning.

It's bad enough dealing with all that life throws at you, the problem is pretending you're all right when at work. Now some people would jump and say "you don't need to pretend you're ok, everyone knows we all have our problems".

That statement is not true.

You see, as 'understanding' as people look, nobody will bear to deal with a person who shows up EVERYDAY sulky for a month or two. We're ready to deal with the occasional sulkiness of our fellow workers, but to a limited degree. Then there's the second problem, no matter how good you're performing at work, you will somehow end up being labeled as "under-performing" and will eventually get to hear a little lecture on "leaving your problems behind when you go to work" from a rather 'understanding' boss.

Bottom-line is you just can't afford to show your true feelings at work to your co-workers, even though that would be really comforting.

For that reason, people devise the perfect plan to counter this problem.

Imagine you have a horrible night (for any of the diverse reasons we have bad nights for) and go to work in one of those horrible moods. You go to the coffee machine to get some early morning coffee, or maybe you're going to pick some papers from the printer, and you get to meet a fellow worker.

That person, all bubbly and happy, gives you his most perfect smile and says "hey! How are you doing this lovely morning?!"

This is when we jump start the perfect plan into action. The smirk.

It is that beautiful wide smile you force on your face and you feel it's nearly ripping your face because it is so incredible fake but you still pass it on.

With the best smirk on your face you turn to your co-worker and go "Oh I'm feeling great today! It is indeed a lovely day!"

You mingle around a little at the coffee machine or the printer, then you turn around and go back to your room/workstation/cubicle. The moment you turn around you of course lose the annoying and face ripping smirk right away. Phew! Another well managed encounter. Now you can go back to sulking alone, in peace, happy to have managed to pull off the smirk. You can regain your energy now for the next time you're going to the bathroom or something.

At this point I'd like to point out that there is an incredibly high chance that your co-worker (the one you met at the coffee machine) was also putting on his lovely smirk. No matter how much we all 'love' (ahem ahem) our jobs, they are not exactly the place we feel all happy and bubbly in.

We all need to appreciate the power of the smirk. It is so powerful that everyone has at one stage or another practiced it. Some people get so good at it and adopt it that this is actually how they smile. These are the people you feel like you want to slap every time they smile (and don't tell me you've never felt that way!)

As a matter of fact, the smirk is being taught now! If you've ever taken a customer service training, chances are you were taught how to use the smirk by a rather professional smirker (probably one of those who have adopted it as their smiles.)

The smirk has become so incredibly widely adopted that everyone has formed his own trademark smirk. I am working hard on perfecting my own right now.

Meanwhile, let me share some wonderful smirks with you now!

Either a really bad smirker, or a beginner. Only time will tell the potential of this one here.

Priceless smirk!

Typical idiot smirker!

I don't know what to make of that smirk. It just leaves me speechless. How can someone use such a stupid smirk -and get away with it - is beyond me!

Meet George W. Bush. I personally think of him as the king of all smirkers. He's had that smirk on his face for so long, it's genuinely built into his features now.

What kind of smirker are you?

The Day Humanity Failed

It was just a day like any other day. Scorching heat - but that's normal in summer right? Mood swings from really happy to really depressed for no particular reason - again totally normal for me these days.

Yet as I snaked my way around the cars in the traffic trying not to suffocate of the smoke pollution, there was something different about me. I walked to the train station like normal but as I entered the platform to take the train from, something felt wrong. Something rotten was brewing in my head and I didn't like that.

I stood there and did what has become an enjoyable hobby of mine on the train - I looked around. I look at people mostly. There is so much to learn just by looking at complete strangers. To imagine that everyone of them has a life - an existence - just like mine, that runs regardless of mine. We'd never cross paths again but that moment could be so profound...yet that is a story for some other time.

I went over my day to try to pinpoint why I was in this mood. There was a lot of killing today. Wars have erupted all around and in other places, people were dying in much more tragic ways (such as in Darfur)

As my thoughts went to Darfur, I couldn't understand how something like that could be happening to humanity. I mean - we have had so many opportunities and time to evolve into this highly intellectual race. We have developed arts and movies that bring us to tears yet such a genocide gets a mere "tut tut" from most of us.

As I stood there on the platform I heard noise. Now I always have my iPod on when I'm on the train, I like to filter everything out and just enjoy the music. The noise, however, was coming from a song on a screen on the platform. What a horrible song! Yet people were hanging around the screen thrilled with the song...people who have not been thrilled with anything all day long were thrilled by this degrading use of art. But art is different from one person to the other. Maybe I'm just ignorant of the new arts.

Finally the train came and by a stroke of magical luck, I got a seat. It's been years since I sat down in the train, I felt spoiled and I loved it!

I got out my New Scientist magazine and began to read this article that I started earlier that was keeping me thrilled. Quantum physics always thrills me for some reason. As the song on my iPod was ending and another was starting, I realized that a couple of younger guys were making fun of me because I "was reading English". I thought about jumping into one of my stances on how science is to be thanked for all the progress humanity has made...but I didn't feel like it.

Then I realized that all those past days...I have RARELY seen a single person reading on the train. When I was abroad, everyone used to read on the train. But here 99% of the people don't. There's the occasional person reading the crappy reports in the newspaper but that's about it. They spend hours commuting in utter boredom rather than read...now there is something that doesn't make sense to me.

Something was utterly getting wrong with the human race but I couldn't pinpoint it.

I finally got home more depressed than ever. As I sat at my computer to do some quick work before I eat, I heard lots of shouting and applause. I didn't know what was going on until someone told me there's an important football match today. It's a match between the two biggest football teams in Egypt. That explained why the streets are deserted. Everyone is at their homes watching the match. That explained the miracle of me getting a seat on the train.

A football match is enough to energize people to change their lives - even if for a single day.

A few men running around a green field pursuing a ball has become enough to move humans, while the daily deaths of thousands of their own race is - at the best case - met with a shrug (usually it's completely not noticed).

That was the day - that was the moment - I knew that humanity has failed.

Darkness

Be brave, be strong
It's not easy when the sky is coming down
Please be gentle with me
There's not much I can do anymore

For you, I tried, to change the world
But I didn't count on the sky coming down
Battling beasts of pain, gargoyles of sorrow
For a change, just get out of my head

Divided inside
A witness to the war of titans
Interlocked horns in the eternal battle of me
That was never how it was supposed to be

Just let me sit back and give up
I deserve that little peace
Even mountains sway in the wind
And steel yields to the heat

The eternal battle is not over
Though the battlefield has been scarred
As I walk around I shed a tear
For a place I hardly know anymore

Broken and scathed, I lay back
This is not what I wanted to be
I close my eyes and embrace
Darkness

-Written by Breathe

Confusion Abound

They say that sometimes, when certain strongly emotions episodes take place in our lives, the world stands still.

For example, the moment you meet the person you love, time does stand still. I believe in that because sometimes, you'd meet that person in the strangest of places and instantly you'll get a strange tingling feeling. That's how it feels when time stands still.

Bad feelings can also make time stand still. When you hear about the death of a loved one life actually stands still. You feel like you're thinking about how life will be without that person, the truth of the matter is, you ARE living life without that person - maybe in a different reality but it's happening. Time stands still, you live that life and then you come back and pick up from that moment.


For me, however, something very different is happening. Somewhere - somehow, life stood still...and that's it. It's stuck somewhere and I just drift along in another life. It is that moment that I gave up and lost control of my life. I lost control of what was once - in my opinion - the most controlled life anyone can ever think of.

I have known for a while now that life is just not all rosy. For quite a while, things haven't been going the way I wanted them to. Partially, that could be because I didn't know what I wanted.

Ignorance is bless

Yet now I'm not ignorant anymore, the effect is not what I expected. I am not more focused and my vision is not clearer.

I'm more confused than I ever was before.

How can you make sense of things if you are not allowed to see the future and you only get one shot at life. It would've made sense if the choices were clearer or if the variables were less...but as it stands now, it may just be too overwhelming.

Walk On

excerpt from an old Frank Sinatra song

When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the Storm there's a golden sky
And the sweet, silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone.
You'll never walk alone.



What an inspirational song. Thank you Sinatra. Those were the best days...

This part of my life is called "catching the train"

Some people call it the train, others called it the subway and others call it the underground. For the sake of familiarity to myself however, lets call it the train.

This part of my life is called "catching the train" and I bet you that it was tougher than most parts of Chris Gardner's life (if you don't get this, go watch Will Smith's Pursuit of Happyness, it'll do you a world of good)

Now this is, to many people, a rather normal step they take everyday to get to work or when coming back or whatever. But the train here, in Egypt, is a TOTALLY different experience.

I am one of the lucky people who got a car when they were 18. It was not the newest car, but it is a lovely car. So when I decided to take my lovely 14 years old car for serious service, I knew I will be stuck with the train for a while. "It's all right" I thought. "How bad can it be anyways?"

Well, back then I didn't know the answer to that question. But now I can safely say: Really really bad.

Mind you this is not my first time on the train. But I guess when driving has been your sole mode of transportation for 7 years you tend to forget what public transportation can be like. That, or the train has grown much much worse than I remember.

So to make a long story short, I went to the train station, I got myself a ticket and went through the checkpoint and was standing there waiting for the train. It was late. That is not a problem in itself, but as I wait, more and more people kept gathering waiting for the train. I was unlucky enough to be standing in the front with a mass of people behind me.

Finally the train came.

On the ground, there was a green arrow pointing towards the train. I knew by my amazing instinct that this meant this is the door I use to get ON the train. I smiled at myself for being smart enough not to stand on the red arrow pointing away from the train (which I deduced in my eternal smartness was where you got OFF the train)

So the train comes to a screeching halt and....all hell breaks lose.

You know when you were young and you played tug-of-war in school? It was a fun game. But I always thought that everyone enjoyed tug-of-war except the rope. It probably never enjoyed tug-of-war. That is me, always considerate of other things - even if they are inanimate.

When the door to the train opened, it was something similar to tug-of-war, except instead of PULLING, it was about PUSHING. And I was the rope.

There were tens of people trying to get off the train. At the same time, there are tens of people behind me trying to get on the train. I was sure I'm standing on the green arrow but...I guess that didn't matter much. Amidst the chaos, I saw that the same thing was happening at the exit of the train marked with the red arrow.

They couldn't even agree to allow each other to pass. Each group, the exiters and the enterers, as I will choose to call them today, kept pushing as hard as they could. I really wanted to get out of it at that point. I mean, I remember thinking I can just take the next train but that was not an option. I was the buffer being pushed in the middle. I'm glad I didn't fade out, but I do remember the air becoming extremely thin. I was doing incredible effort to breathe.

Finally the 2 groups were able to break through each other. Only one problem though. For every 1 person who got off the train, 4 got on. In a matter of seconds, I found my face stuck to a wall and I was lucky to have 2 feet on the ground. I sooo didn't want to be here, but I was pushed by an incredible mass of people.

The train started to move, there was very little air to breath but...it was moving...I was on my way home. I mean, it's only 13 stations to go right? Only problem is 2 stations away was the most popular station on the whole line...

At this point I would like to make an observation. When I was in school, I was told that gases are easily compressible, liquids are barely compressible and solids are incompressible. That piece of information is wrong. I can finally disprove it. Solids are actually compressible.

The train was completely utterly full. Now, when I say full it doesn't mean there are no seats or there are many people standing. I mean there is absolutely no air inside the train cuz people are crowded so close that I literally had my face stuck to the wall because there was no space to move a single inch.

When the train stopped at that station however, at least - at the very least - 15 people got on the train. How is that possible? That's easy. Humans are solids, by the old wrong rule, they are incompressible. Apparently, humans ARE compressible, I saw it, they were able to compress 15 people into a completely full train. Like any compression attempt this requires tremendous pressure. That came in the form of 2 people outside the train who were helping push the extra people into the train from outside. As the doors started to close they couldn't because people were still stuck there. So with some effort and alot of heaving, those 2 good people were able to compress the extra people in.

That didn't affect my breathing directly, I mean, there was no air to start with. But now, besides having my face stuck to the wall, I also had someone's elbow stuck to my chest and I lost ground. There was no place to put 2 feet down anymore, that was a luxury. I only had one foot on the ground. The other was in the air.

Did I mention it was an extremely hot day? Did I mention the temperture was 36 degrees Celsius? I probably forgot didn't I? Well, it was that hot. And people were sweating like crazy and...well...lets just say that at least 95% "forgot" to put on their deodorant in the morning.

11 stations later, I struggled to reach the door. This was my exit. This was finally my chance to get out! There were 2 other people getting off the train. I readied myself and as the door opened, I had to endure the reverse tug-of-war game again - but to a lesser degree since it is a less popular station.

As I walked out into the scourging heat - I absolutely loved it. It was hot, humid and stinky...but I absolutely loved it. Anything at all (maybe excluding Hell itself) would have been better than the train!

When I get my beautiful car back I will treat her better than my best friend!