Taste My Shit…Pie. (A Post Guaranteed To Make You Feel Better About Your Life. Unless You Live In A Cardboard Box, Not Sure What Would, Actually.)

I have been out of it for the last month or so. By it I mean life. And I have been out of blogging for quite a long time, it seems.

When your anxieties come back to bite you in the rear end after months of freedom, will, it sucksbad.

But when you anxieties come to bite you and you fall in a state of unwillingness to get out of bed, or to go to sleep, or to do anything, productive—or unproductive, for that matter—it sucks, like, big time.

School’s just around the corner, and frankly, the mere thought of having to spend a period of time close to ten months around a number of devolved, sloppy, smelly and idiotically uneducated—the blame falls on the educational system, but also on the stupid students—teenagers, is just…so…disturbing.

I don’t even think I’m going to make it through the semester. Especially with my lack of sleep, and all those extra classes.

Plus, Egypt’s going through one hell of a ride…that only goes down. Only adding to my emotional Shitpie. (Yes, I’m reading The Fault in Our Stars for the third time. Also adding my pie.)

So overall, I’m most probably—Worst Case Scenario—going to have a mental breakdown accompanied by an out-of-place panic attack in the middle of second period. Or—Best Case Scenario—going to have the same things, only at home. And then shut everybody out for a week or so.

Please, if you have any means of uplifting my screwed up emotions, share. *Whispers to himself: Please let it be Harry Potter and Kittens..*

 

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Just My Luck!

Today’s Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year (in the Northern Hemisphere). How are you taking advantage of the extra hours of light this time of year? Do you like it, or do you already miss earlier sunsets?

The Daily Post

According to Wikipedia, Egypt is actually part of the Northern Hemisphere. Which is something I had never known until today. Geography is one of the things I simply couldn’t—physically or mentally for the matter—care about less.

The longest day of the year, is a summer day. A hot, sweaty, sunny, boring summer day. I hate summer, I hate every thing about it, the sun, the heat, the pests. Everything.
So, honestly, I couldn’t care less about the length of this day.

An Insomniac’s Decleration

Recently, I’ve not been active at all. I’ve missed Blogging U assignments, I stopped writing the daily prompts, and I’m not even working on my novel in this wasted time.

This probably due to the nervous stress I’m going through; sleeping is now one of my ex-best friends, he comes by at about 5 am. and leaves at 1 pm. And although this is eight hours of sleep, they’re not comfortable and I’m pretty sure they’re not counted as sleep.

But, yesterday and today I’ve woken up early and I’m trying to fix my sleep cycle.

Pray for me.

And may the odds be ever in your favor.

Not Your Occasional Teacher. Unless You Occasional Teacher’s The Most Famous Invader In History

You can choose any person from history to teach you any topic you want. Who’s your teacher, and what do they teach you?

The Daily Post

There are so many answers to this prompt, I’d love to see many notable people in history, and I sure as hell would want to learn tons of things from them.

But, right now, I think, I’d want to meet Genghis Khan. You know, that guy who they portrayed in movies—at least in my  country—wearing a tiny metal helmet, with a huge body. Yeah will he was Asian. He was tiny, only he wore huge armors lined with fur and whatnot, so he only appeared huge.

Just for the record, he was born Temujin, not Genghis Khan.

I’ve been studying a book called (DISCLAIMER:This is not an official translation.)The Struggle Of The Egyptian People. Which pretty much talks about all the wars and invasions Egypt has been through, and due to the destructive Egyptian educational system, the Mongol invasion in Egypt has been a little—more than a little, a lot—exaggerated; it seemed to me that we ended the rule of the Mongol Empire. But no, we were only saved because some Mongol guy died, apparently.

But, in studying this, I came to…not like, just, I just felt their Halo. So, dark blue, old, and mighty.

I’d want to meet Temujin, and ask him, as the ruler of the largest contiguous land empire in history, what did he feel, how did he get the nerve to actually rule all those people? What made him what he became? And why did whatever made him Genghis Khan make him think of ruling the world?

Not in anyway is he a good person, and not in anyway does he deserve mercy. But you’ve got to give it to him, he did what almost no one could do, in his 60 years of life.

There are so many dimensions in each of our lives, and history can only capture so much. And although I won’t be learning anything from him directly, I think I’ll filter one or two lessons out of his life.

God, I’m weird.

Just…Stop Talking!

Since I started this blog, many of my posts—I’ve come to realize—have a part in which I complain about the superficiality of humans. And listening to Lorde‘s A World Alone, I thought Yes, people do talk too much.

So, I aked myself ,why can’t people shut up about themselves or other people?

Because, humans feed on self-appreciation, earned or supposed. They either talk about their achievements only—you don’t see a man talking about how he lost his job or his wife—or they talk about other people’s failures.

Yes, I don’t like humans. And I unfortunately am like any other human. I like to talk about my ups, not my downs. But I’ve been working on embracing my mistakes and flaws.

Humans look at everything from a wrong angle. People have been dreaming of world peace since forever. They say they want to end wars and unite the world.

Tell me again, HOW THE HELL are you supposed to stop wars while brothers are mocking each other ‘s miss-achievements and mistakes. And for what? Just to feel better about themselves.

I resent us humans. Therefore, I’ve decided that next Monday, I’m going to start my very own first Day of Silence. A day for me to talk with me, about me.

Paradox #2: All The Time In The World

No time.

I run down the stairs, and storm through the door. Mom calls on me, but I don’t look back; I haven’t got anytime to waste.

Besides, She probably wants me to have breakfast with that fat hairy creep she calls her husband. As if!

I sprint on the side walk, my heels clicking against the pavement. I can still make it in time. I slip on a little puddle, but I grab the neighbors fence for support. Dirty water splatters my skirt.

Shit! I whisper.

Something catches my sight, a paper, a sketch half dipped in the puddle. Someone had sketched a beautiful fairy, sitting on a rock in a river. I don’t why but I tuck it inside my Burberry tote, and pick up my pace.

The steps to the school’s door are wet with man boot prints. I walk up them and I leave a similar trail.

In the hall, all the boys look at me. As usual. And all the girls envy me.

And I realize, I just can’t be late; I’m the diva of this school, and I’ve got all the time in world.

“Oh my God Izzy! What happened to your skirt?” Stacy Brown. My closest friend says as she syncs with my pace.

“What?” I look down at my skirt. I remember the splash when I see the brown smudge on it. “Puddle! I’ll go wash it of.”

“But class starts in a minute, you’ll be late!”

“So what? I’ve got all the time in the world.” I say matter-of-factly. And give her a smirk and a wink.

Storming through the bathroom door while looking at my skirt, the last thing I was expecting was the sight of a boy surrounded by shards of glass and with a bloody hand. But it was exactly what I saw.

 

 

Well That’s One Missed Up Pair

Me being me, couldn’t just let it rest. I had to dial his number, and talk about it.

He picked up after three rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey it’s me.” I said, although I knew he knew that it was me; he had assigned a specific ringtone on his home number for mine.

“I know.” He says knowingly.

“Then why did you ask?” I asked. And again I knew why; because he’s pissed at me.

“What do you want?”

“Well, I’m not saying I’m wrong-which I’m not-but I don’t like to sleep on bad terms.” I replied.

“What makes you so sure you’re not?” He asks. Sounding annoyed.

“Because I know.”

“Yeah well I think I’m right.” He said. “have you ever considered looking from my POV?”

“Of course I did.” I said matter-of-factly. “And I found I was right.”

“You’re just. So. Arrogant!” He said.

“I’m not arrogant. I’m just practical.”

“We’ve been friends for years now,” He said. I rolled my eyes. “And I’m telling you, you have issues with not being right.”

“Well, you have issues with taking critique.”

“You should have let it rest.” He said.

“You know I can’t do that.” I replied.

“See you tomorrow.” He said. “Bye.”

“Bye bye.” I waited.

“Bye.” His voice came to life.

“Bye.” I laughed. And I hung up.

I really don’t know how can we be best friends.

Nostalgia? Not Quite

My father was always doing everything he could to make us happy. And I was always grateful.

But now, my father has passed. It has been six-years since I’d seen in him in that hospital room. They’d shaved his moustache; for the nasal cannula. I was eight then and the first thing I felt once I saw that, was that they took away something precious, something I thought was untouchable. He was-to me that is-a lion that had his mane shaved, involuntarily.

He died there, in his coma. He didn’t feel a thing. I cried, a lot. Just once; I never cry more than once over a dead person.

But honestly, I don’t remember him anymore. Not his face though, I know that. And not only from photos. But no specific events, just his halo, his presence.

He wasn’t always around; he was usually travelling for his job. He was as a Chief Steward in the hotel Le Meridian Makadi Bay formerly. Now it’s Tia Heights Makadi Bay.

There wasn’t a year we hadn’t spent at least a month there. I’d spend the whole day by the pool; the warm water enveloping me, the sun landing on my slightly burned skin, Watching people’s legs moving in slow motion in shades of blue underwater. We had  this secret place ̶ that wasn’t really secret ̶ under the little wooden bridge connecting the edges of the pool, where me and my sister would stand, and watch ̶ At least I would ̶ the reflections of the sun’s light on the water, on the bridge’s damp insides. Making all these beautiful light blue shapes. Like tens of shards of blue mosaic glass.

And then we’d go home before at about sunset. Passing the lobby, and the wide green garden, where the owner’s dog almost caused me a heart attack. And passing by the many complexes and the gardens in front of them.

There was this one spot, a few complexes after the one our room was in, which had a little swing set, and a little pool, and a striped shezlong. No matter what the season was, the huge tree casting the cool shadow overhead was always shedding yellowish, crunchy leaves. I would beg my sister every day to let us play there before going to the pool. And she occasionally agreed. I never actually found out who this belonged to, it was always deserted. Except for once. when a half naked old man was perched on the shezlong. Weird.

The lobby at night was majestic, its off-white color brought out by the yellow little lights. Turning heads with its round top against the purple sky. The inside was no less attractive; a pianist was always there, moving his fingers swiftly on the keys, like he owned them; the marble setting; the curved stairs. Everything about it screamed: Look at me, I’m marvelous. And you can’t dare leave.

We had friends, and everything, but the thing about that place, what made it special, was that it was special. It was our place. And I loved it. It was a part of my life. But it hasn’t been for six years now.

I’d like to go there now, go to underneath the bridge, and marvel at the patterns. And look at the sun from under the water. I want to go there, and go to our bathroom there, and take an hour long bubble bath. And I want to go there and stand under the lobby’s curved marble stairs, in the shadow, close to the pianist, but enough for him to see me, I wouldn’t want him to see me; he was something bigger than, he had to be; he produced such beautiful melodies, he had to be.

I want to linger on the little things, the ticks, the things that last in my head, and make their little imprint in my brain. The memories that are inactive for the longest of times until they’re triggered by distinctive smells and tastes, even sights.

Those are the things I want to remember. Those are the things I want grasp again. If just for a little while.

I don’t believe in yesterday. I only believe in tomorrow and today. But I amhuman, I still sometimes look back. Just for the heck of it. 

Make Up Your Mind, Brain!

As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? How close or far are you from that vision?

The Daily Post

I was still not over yesterday’s terrible prompt. But this prompt’s really interesting.

Now, I really am an indecisive person. To the point it’s irritating.

Through the brief course of my life, I’ve fantasized about over 12-13 careers. And to my surprise, only last year was when I decided I wanted to be an author.

I’m going to write about my career choices that stand out the most.

I’ve written before about my dream of being a Giraffe Engineer when I was six. So I’m not going to bother writing about it again.

And was my dream of being a Pediatric. Probably because my father-God bless his soul-wanted a doctor in the family. But I’m not sure why I thought to be a Pediatric.

And then I wanted to be an Astronaut. Because I liked space, or an Astronomer. I always liked to watch the stars, and outer space itself always intrigued me. And it still does.

Ones, I came up with the idea in which my family becomes some outer space scavenging team; because I always loved it when my family was together. The idea was that as my oldest sister is already a botanist, and my brother would be a geologist-he didn’t become one by the way-and my youngest sister would be something I really don’t remember. And I’d be an Astronaut. And we’d also bring our mother along to be team chef.

I had a wild imagination I have to tell you.

Then I was influenced by my sister’s friend who was a dentist. But decided that the craft had way too much saliva for my taste. (Not the best choice of words right?)

And then I wanted to be a full-time Chef.

Then a professional Animator, and work to for DreamWorks Animation. Now that‘s a long-shot.

I also thought of becoming a Fashion Designer. I still sketch dresses my family likes.

And then last year, I started to connect with books. I’ve been reading long before, but, I’ve never connected with books. It all went pretty fast actually, I reread the Harry Potter series, and then got sucked in the fandom life. And formed the connection.

And fandom, brings fandom, brings fandom. And then I read The Hunger Games, City Of Bones. And tons of others. But books started feeling different, giving me vibrant emotions.

And then I found out that I liked to write, and started writing a book. And then I decided to be an Author. And I surprisingly don’t think that it’s such a long-shot. I think I can actually get their.

But, for a couple of months now I’ve been thinking about become a Veterinarian; I love animals.

So yeah, I’ve imagined tons of scenarios, and I like some of them.

Pray for me. And may the odds be ever in your favor.

Where’s Your Head, Daily Post?

A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece – about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you?

The Daily Post

 

This prompt-to me-is very unpractical; it doesn’t give you space to be creative; you’re going to write three questions you don’t want their answers to be viewed publicly, but you’re going to write about them in you’re public blog?! Seriously!

But since I’m here, I guess the three questions would be:

-What’s your darkest secret?

Because obviously no one wants too tell their darkest secret.

-Who’s your most favorite friend?

Because that’s a very stupid question; many people would think they are my favorites, and you can’t possibly have 13 best friends!

-……….

Don’t really know a third question.

See, it’s unpractical!