Are we the result of what we learn?

We learn in the past, but we aren't the result of that.
I mean we do suffer in the past, love, cry, laugh in the past, but that's of no use to the present.
Present has its own challenges, its own good and bad side.
We can neither blame nor be grateful to the past for what is happening now.
Each new experience has nothing whatsoever to do with the past experience. It's always new.
Again I talk to myself in the forme of talking to other (as if someone is actually here)
no one ever stays the same.
people who quickly get this obvious fact of life are more alive than anyone else, they don't expect people to behave as they did when they first met, nor do they want people to stay the same as when they found each other.
People aren't used to that way of thinking. They want everything to stay the same
And the consequence of that is pain.
We aren't ever the person people wish we were. We are who we decide to be.
yes it is easy to blame others, but honestly our successes or failures are entirely our own responsibility.
And at the end even if we try to stop time it will be complete waste of energy.

ظاهرة عامة

حالة تجتاح الجميع من حولى فى هذا البلد التعيس حالة من الغوغائية والهمجية والانتهازيين والطامعين، حالة لا تفرق بين طبقة عليا متعلمة ومقتدرة واخرى جاهلة ومطحونة وثالثة من المجرمين والبلطجية كبارا كانوا ام صغار،
حالة مثيرة للغثيان والاشمئزاز مما تثير له الاوضاع، من التناقض.. من اللافهم الى عدم الرغبة فى الفهم الى مجرد الرفض للرفض او لعدم قبول الاخر/المختلف.
حالة مشجعة بشدة على الانكسار والانهزام والتقوقع ورفض التواجد فى هذا البلد اذا كانت هذه المهزلة وهذا الواقع هو فعلا واقعة.
لم يتغير شئ.. ولن يتغير شئ بعد سبعة الالاف عام اخرى، لست متشائمة ولكنه الحقيقة بدون محليات.
لم اعد اطيق العيش هنا، اصبح الهواء يخنقنى وكل ما حولى يسبب لى تلوث اخلاقى وبصرى ونفسى وسمعى.
تبا لكل الافكار والاحلام الفارغة
وليحيا الجهل والجهلة
وليعيش البلطجية واللصوص احرارا
ولتمتلأ الادمغة بالسموم
ولا فرق
لن يتغير شئ

It grown to be what I do best..

Years of writing thoughts, feelings, life experiences, articles, posts, poetry, short stories,
years of saying proudly words is where I belong,
words is what I know how to do best..

years of writing emotional, philosophical equations that no one including myself can solve.

Of the paradox of getting older

ageing does bring confidence and a growing sense of self and certain rash what the hell, but, oddly at the exact same time, I may feel Absolutely no different when I were 17, I understand, in the good logical part of my mind, that this is not precisely the case.
I really do know more than what I did 10 years ago, I can sit down and make a detailed list of all the things I know now, its literally so, but there are times when it doesn't feel so.
The powerful irrational part of my brain is urgently telegraphing that all those things I've learnt are somehow irrelevant, or are no more than figments, or count for nothing: the truth is that I am just still feeling like a teenager who is masquerading as a grown up.
I do believe that the defining feature of humanbeings is their bizarre ability to hold two opposing ideas at once.
The aspect of ageing is a perfect example.
I know I am gaining knowledge and wisdom and savvy and all those good things, I have the scars to show for it, because I have learnt the hard way (I wonder if there's any other way ! Does anyone ever say I learnt the easy way?!)
I have a perfect pension fund of emotional and practical experience, ready to be drawn on.
Yet there are moments when all this count for nothing and I find myself at a loss, convinced that the growing up police or something are about to tap me on the shoulder and say I am busted

I wonder whether this is because somewhere along the line, someone in a book or a movie or even IRL laid down a template of what an adult should look like! If I don't fulfil this picture in every aspect I must feel I can not be the real thing.
I hope vainly that I can go on perpetuating the illusion, I pray that everyone else is so preoccupied with their own mad simulacrum of adulthood that they won't notice the paper thin aspect of my own counterfeit.
The only way I see around this paradox is to accept it.
Some days I feel really old indeed, that I only fit for reading the columns and pondering my pension, on other days I am filled with youthful folly and want to go put glitter in my nails and eat jello for breakfast.
Age is mostly a state of mind, and I know for sure that my mind is fervid and unpredictable, there's no perfect template for being a grown up, no secret prescription written down somewhere of how I should feel or behave or even be.
So I'm embracing all my scattered inner selves, and won't bow to any misguided imperative.

حالة من عدم القبول

لأمش عدم رضا
لأ مش سخط
انما عدم قبول..
عدم قدرة على الاستكانة
كل حاجة حاوليا بقت بتستفزنى.. وبتعصبنى.. وبكون عاوزة اصرخ او فعلا بقيت بصرخ
مش طايقة الغباوة بتاعت الناس
مش طايقة الحيوانات اللى ماشيين يعكسوا البنات
مش طايقة الشغل وملله و الختم والسركى وامضت المدير وموافقة سعة الوزير
مش طايقة كلام زمايلى الفكسان العبيط فالسياسة والدين اللى اغلبه غلط وهذى
مش طايقة المواصلات والزحمة والطريق من البيت للشغل
مش طايقة البلد وحالها اللى متغيرش ومبيتغيرش ومش حيتغير
برغم كل الثورات من سنة 1919
مش طايقة اقتراحات الناس وتدخلهم فى حياتي
مش طايقة الكلام الماسخ اللى مبيتغيرش فالبيت
بقيت بتضيق اووووووى لما حد يجى يتكلم معايا ويخدنى من كتاب فى ايدي او حتة مزيكا فى ودنى
انا مش سوداوية ولا مكتئبة انما انا بصة للدنيا من غير لوكلوك ورغى ومجاملات فارغة. بصلها من جوا الناس مش من اللى على لسانهم

الكوباية مبقيتش نصها فاضى او مليان بالنسبة ليا بقيت بشوف بس ايه اللى فالكوباية
ازاى كل حاجة حاوليا بقيت ممستفزه كده مش عارفة!!
كل اللى متاكدة منه ان دنيتى صغرت عليا ومبقتش طايقها
مش فكرة غرور ولا انى احسن ولا نيلة بس معرفش ليه مبقيتش قادرة اقبل عيشتى كده..
جوايا نفس قبضت القلب اللى بحسها كل ما حاجة تكون حتسيب علامة فى حياتى او تغيرها.. بس مجرد احساس

sent via Gmail for Android

Of possibilities

Developing a working philosophy of life- is everybody struggling trying to finding on or its just me?!

Once I were young and arrogant and aasumed I know all the answers, yet I didn't have the time to ask the questions.
I were busy falling in love with wrong people and shooting for the moon, I had no fear, I thought I know everything though I knew nothing, then I get to the age of knowing something, and I realise that I do in fact know nothing,

Sometimes I wanna go back to Rolling Stones song that says you can't always get what you want but sometimes, if youtry, you get what you need, I heard the perfect note of a universal truth.

Yet matter fact some people can read all the books, think all the thoughts, they can make mistakes and learn from it, they can even be too cleaver and learn from other people mistakes, they can study them newspapers and them talkshows, they pay attention and still they may not know what the hell ian it all about, I seen people like this, yet its sort of all right.

Here's what I believe is true: frailty and confusion are the human condition. And I admit to them.

---
"MY FORMULA FOR LIVING IS QUITE SIMPLE. I GET UP IN THE MORNING AND I GET TO BED AT NIGHT. IN BETWEEN, I OCCUPY MYSELF AS BEST I CAN." ~Cary Grant
That's the way I live it too Mr. Grant

يا نَفسى نِفسى احضنك

يا نَفسى نِفسي امسك إيديكى وإنت بتجري وأحضُنك
وأقعد معاكي اسمعك
واقولك اتكلمى
قولى ما فيكى..
وأهزلك رأسى قال ايه بفهمك
من غير ولا مناقشة ولا وتوضيح ورغى..
يا نَفسي بضمك من حيرتى
ايش اعمل معاكى لما بتوهى
وااااه يا نَفسى اد ايه نفسى احضنك!


Sent from Android Powered By Vodafone eg