Wishes For The Kinder Hearts

Remember those lovely genies who grant wishes? Well, you’re one and you’ve just been emancipated from your restrictive lamp. You can give your three wishes to whomever you want. Who do you give your three wishes to, and why?

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Regardless of the fact that I’d be green, being a genie would be pretty badass. I’d have the ability of flight. I’d be able to have supernatural strength and much more. But I don’t think living in a tiny container for years would be that enjoyable.

If I were to be released from my lamp, I’d probably save my wishes for someone who needs it.

I won’t go giving a million dollars to my sister. And I won’t make my best friend the world’s top Olympic swimmer. No, I’d probably go around looking for someone who wants to eliminate disease. Or someone who wants to give every single oppressed person his/her freedom or dignity back.

I wouldn’t simply give it to someone, I’d seek someone who’s pure of  heart, someone who could perceive the value of the three mutters of I want.

Although I know there’s no one who’s pure. But someone who can think of other people, besides her/himself. Is pure enough for me. Someone who’s stories usually end with someone else. Who knows, maybe if s/he is pure-ish, they’d be in for a treat.

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?

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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.

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?

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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.

Stumbling Upon Myself

I haven’t really met anyone special year.

But on the course of the last and this year,  I’ve met someone who became a huge part of my life. Actually, he became all of me, and my life.

I met me.

There were a lot of changes in my life in the past couple of years. I don’t what it was, but I think I’ve grown, not the occasional teenager growth, something else.

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have seen things like I do now two years ago. And that’s normal. But, awkwardly, I’ve tried new things. I thinkI was always the Comfort Zone guy. I don’t really remember myself two years ago, which makes me think of how easy it is for us-humans-to change in the light of a few minor occasions. Or maybe they only seem minor.

Through the course of the last two years, many events occurred to me. They seemed minor at the time, but now, looking back, they seem to be some of the most influential things that happen to a person in a life time.

For one, my oldest sister got married. I was diagnosed with Panic Disorder, I started reading passionately, I started writing, I started to see people for real, and to perceive people. My sister had a son. And I learned that sometimes being the better-man isn’t good enough.

I started to be different, from the person I was and from every body else around me. But it’s just who I am. Even though it bothers some people. It’s just me.

And as hard as it was, I actually realized, that sticking with your ethics is very important to be a good person. But what about being a respected person? Unfortunately, nowadays, not replying a curse with another is a sign of weakness. But I’ve made a deal with myself, that I would never give in to the retardedness of the community. (Yes. I know that’s not a real word.)

Yes I’ve met me. And I’m still getting to know me. And I think I will never finish. There would never be enough time for me to learn all the aspects of me.

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. 

18 Minutes Of Thoughts. On A Bus

Enrolling to the Daily Post’s Blogging University was a very easy thing. Just type you’re E-mail address, your name and press join/apply/I really don’t remember.

But now, today’s assignment is about writing your thoughts stream. As don’t think, don’t draft, don’t plan. Simply type, and then publish.

But honestly, I don’t usually plan my posts. But I still have an idea or a little blurry figure figured out. But today, I decided not to have an idea; I’m trying to stop my mind from thinking. This is harder than it sounds, especially when you’re an overthinking teenager who thinks in his sleep.

I decided to make a blog, because I like to write. I’m not sure if I’m an amazing writer, or even a good one, I just liketo write.

I as all humans have always wanted to be known, I wouldn’t like to go by life and not do something. Life’s not about being noticed though, but since I’m here, I can do something with it-it being life-at least.  As long as I don’t overlook my duties towards God and my family, Why not do the things I love, and maybe get something out of doing them as well.

But really, I don’t think money can’t buy you happiness; it can buy happiness alright, but what kind of happiness? The real happiness, the one that lasts even after you’re broke or dead. Or the happiness that fades away once your net worth drops.

In the end, People go on with their lives, each on his own way. But when it’s all over, there will be no difference between us. We will all be one thing, mere humans. Only what you chose to do with your life is what will make you more than that.

Pray for me, as I do for you. And may the odds be ever in your favor.

The Four Seasons (Not Vivaldi’s)

The idea that the weather and people’s moods are connected is quite old. Do you agree? If yes, how does the weather affect your mood?

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Weather changes my mood alright. And not always in a good way.

I love Winter, for simple, and complicated reasons. One is that I simply like winter clothes, and I think they are way more stylish than summer’s. And then there’s the fact that I just like to feel cold. Not in a weird way, just the little chill on my nose. I like that.

And I think that it’s better to be cold than hot; I mean, if you’re cold, you can always put on more clothes. But if you’re hot, how much can you take off, really!

And I just like to stand outside my house, and feel the wind hitting my cheeks, and think about the meanings of life. And my purposes on it. (Way too cliché right!)

Spring is probably the worst season. Ever. I mean the weather isn’t cold,  nor is it hot. And don’t get me started on the allergies.

Summer isn’t always bad. But I just can’t stand the heat. And my clothes stick to me. But I always like to stare at the sun, and feels the warmth on my skin. God this contradicts everything I’ve said about Winter. Sometimes I find it hard to coup with my odd personality(s).

Autumn, I like Autumn. It rains in Autumn. I like rain, so I like Autumn.

But I like movie Autumn better, where the sky is grey and cloudy, and the trees are shades of yellow, the wind picks up the dead leaves and swirls them in the air. That’s the kind of Autumn I want. That’s the kind of Autumn I don’t have.

And all around the year, I try to keep a positive attitude, I try to always be happy, and to see the good in life. If it’s the Winter I love. Or the Spring that I hate, the Summer that vitalizes my Grumpy-Side, or the Autumn that I like better in movies. I like to stay good; because life’s a weird thing, and you just have to out weird 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!

MerManBird!

If you were one part human, two parts something else — another animal, a plant, an inanimate object — what would the other two parts be?

The Daily Post

Let us take a few seconds to obsess over the the brilliance of this post; I mean, this is one of my most favorite things. Humanoids, hybrids, and all those creepy things.

Back to business. Despite my six-year-old dream of growing up to be a…*Drumroll*…A giraffe. Yes, a giraffe And no, I was not a weird kid. The idea was that if I became a giraffe, I would be able to build really tall buildings so lots of people could live in them— I won’t be a half-human, half-giraffe creature.

I don’t really know what gave me the idea that giraffes can get into engineering school. Or that if they have the proper education, they could build buildings, or draw blueprints, with their hooves. Or that they could even direct workers, speaking their giraffe language. Yes, giraffes have a voice, even if you didn’t think so. They just don’t use it much.

But really, what am I going to be? Let’s see, Ilove birds. And I’d love to fly, and also I’d like to swim like a fish.

So, I’d be a human, with large bird’s wings. And waist-down, I’d have a merman’s tail, and the whole breathing underwater thing.

The animal extensions can be withdrawn, and I’d have the ability to produce bird sounds.

Then I’d be able to fly when I want. I’d be able to see world from above and enjoy the gracefulness of flight. And also, I’d be able to make bird sounds in class and make the teachers go bonkers.

And I’d be able to go swimming for hours. And also, as weird as it sounds, I like to watch the sun from underwater.

So, yes, I’d be a MerManBird, it’s kind of catchy actually.

Good bye, and may the odds be ever in your favor.