Friday, April 21, 2006

Forgive me


I want to watch the sky with you
Scan the stars for lighting thoughts
Draw Pegasus in the clouds
Count the starts around the moon.

It will be warm with a little breeze
That draws us closer and closer.
The world will melt, and oceans freeze
so much life but time will cease.

We will know us
There would be no doubt.
Some ancient memory

We will wake us
Take us dreaming.
The curtain will rise

We will see us
In white light, then silently
Like leaves

We will hold us
Then will fall asleep
Honored and at ease.

Huh, wishful thinking.
While were sinking
In our misery
Thick dark cloud
Blocks out the sky
But I would crave
That edge of madness
That blissful fall.
Deaf, blind, and dumb
Hovering in mortality.

So like some bloody hunter
I stalk your footsteps
Right behind you unseen

Then suddenly
At a street corner
We will meet
Face to face
Heart to heart, And nose to nose
The doors will close
And we would be imprisoned by
Our suicidal love.

Forgive me for not reacting to
Those sweet, passionate eyes.
I could not afford the pain of your love.
For the sake of both our lives.

AAA 4/21/06

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

The concept of time?

everything has a begining and an end, then where is the begining and the end of a circle?
If the time concept has a starting point, and an end point, then why the start and the end point of a square are the same? are we to go back to the point of start? Then what?
What if you can sneak a look at the future, without time travel? Instein never said that you can't look into the future, but he did say that physically, you can never be in the future.

Some researchers look at the time concept as a wheel, and the fact that with the correct energy (theorotically), we can get out of this wheel (like quantom physics). But many researchers fail to relaize one thing.

Thats is :what is the concept of time? here is something to scratch the surface of this issue. Is time, the turning of this wheel (i.e. revolution of earth...) or it's something else?

Well, imagine that you stopeed this revolution, hence, the time is stuck now, say at 5 pm afternoon. Now, 20 years later, would you look the same as you do now? Keep in mind that we stopped the physical revolution of earth. Or you will look 20 years older? If the answer is the latter one, then time is being missunderstood. It's not the revolution of earth, but something that we don't understand, yet we feel, and live every day. It's something that you can not control.Think of it this way. To control time, it means that you will control all things that are assoicated with it, such as the day and nigh; and the aging process. Can u stop the aging process?

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

The blind heart.

The phone rings. Who could call at this time. Hello, I said. I could hear crying on the other side. Hello i said, again. She is still crying with a little hello she replied. "I hate bad news" I said to myself. Yes, who is there. She replied with her name. a name I could easily recognize. What happened now. Why the crying? Are you alright? I bombarded her with a question after another. Her reply was........."he is dead, 7ammoodeh is dead".

Suddenly, I felt conflicting emotions. Part of me was happy that he died, yet another part was sad. Before you judge me on such reaction, please walk with me in the past to see the roots of such emotions on my behalf.

This woman married some years ago. We know her, close friend of the family. Her first child was a beautifull boy, and she named him mohammad. He was adorable. Healthy. Always running around. Beautiful eyes, and a magical smile. At the age of about 18 months, he suffered a heat stroke, and his temperatures shot up high. He was taken to the emergency room, where he was treated. Sadly, it was too late as the stroke damaged his brain some how.

Since then, muhammad was acting differently. That child doesn't run anymore, and even, he can't sid down no more. Then his parents noticed the symptoms of damag of the brain. His mother was devistated with this. This was her prince, hopes, and pleasure. Now, all those dreams that she had for him, shattered like a cheap glass window.

She had a couple of more children afterwards. Both healthy, but muhammad kept her agony. She never lost hope, allthough we may all do.

11 years later, mohammad died. And I honestly felt happy. Time to move on. She suffered alot for her child. She never seem to loose hope. What hope? marriage? starting his own family? education? Yet, when many of us may loose hope, she never did.

Back to the present. I told her "sheddy 7eelek emm m7ammad, inshalla ra7meh, wkhalleeh yertaa7 weyrayye7" Thats when she got angry and I could tell that her crying got worse and worse. "but who told you that I was wishing for that, thats my son" she replied. I tried to explain to her that he is now in good hands, an angel in heavens, and that Allah has chosen that he departs. Still, she was crying as is she really had hopes. Oh no bo3bo3, who are you to judge her if she didn't have hopes. She lost her son, nomatter how brain damaged this child was, thats her son, her flesh and blood, 13 years of cinstant sacrifices on her behalf, where some of us may simply give up way too sooner.

Thats when I gave the phone to my wife hoping that she comforts her a little. Now I feel sad for emm m7ammad, for she is a mother who lost a child. period. a child, not a brain damaged child. Who am I to deprive her from the moment of sadness for the departure of her son, regardless of his mental health. Who am I?

Suddenly, I realized that I didn't fully understand the heart of a mother. When we see things, we tend to analyze matters based on materialistic things (in general). yet, the heart of a mother is blind. It only sees the flesh and the soul of the child that the mother held for 9 months inside her body. She cared for this baby. So who am I to deprive her from a normal reaction any mother would have. Thats when I realized I've done wrong for such emotions. This was muhammad, and whatever dreams and hopes she had for him, are as pure and legitemate as they can get.

The above was a true story that happened to me about 2 years ago, and the mother and the child are real. God bless your soul oh muhammad, and God bless the heart of this great mother. Nomatter how hard we try to describe it's greatness, we always come short to fully and fairly describing such heart.

Monday, April 17, 2006

The Blade of Trust


blood is falling down the wall
I've lost it all, yes again
my sanity has hit the floor
and my thoughts live agony and pain
I slip into the stain down the drain
to see the blade cut me loose
I am fallen , yet again


This is my underworld
overwhelmed with darkness
It's all I have
The shadows always come alive
and take the pain away
the sky splits, opens wide
and thunder is my only music
and i'm taken down my submission to the dead


Fall away , hide, fade
there’s nothing left of this mind
I’m getting closer and closer
to falling off the edge
my loneliness, is my only comfort
the voices, have started to stray
and I can feel fading away

can you help me out of this ?
can you wash away these years?
can you save me from this?
the pain, sarrow and all my fears........
can you see this dream i see?
can you shed blood tears, just like me
you wouldn't know this to be real
Can you save me……..
from the blade of trust

I have sinned

yep, I did. I stand in front of you all and seek forgiveness. I seek forgivenes from my wife and my son for I have sinned the big sin. But I also want to express my weakness, not to give myself an execuse or justification. Damn it, I have sinned.

I never thought I'll ever make such sin. I know that I am weak, and I know that I can cave in for pressure, but to commit the great sin, I never imagined myself doing so. So i stand before you, weak, naked from any mask or cover, and ashamed of what I did. Have I gone back in time, jut 2 days, i would have never sinned. But a weak bo3bo3 is typical in our days these days.

I have sinned, a sin that many of you would feel strong against. Yet, my macho manhood, or that "guy thing" song I keep singing failed me.

But before I tell you my sin, I ask all of you to not view me based on this sin, but to view me based on what you know me with. For a moment of weakness shouldn't be the basis of judgment.

I have sinned, forgive me all, specially my wife and my close ones. I declare that I have failed you, when you were looking at me to lead. I have failed you when you rely on me to stirr the ship. I have failed you when you have your total trust in me.

I have sinned, yes, I did. I am drinking a decafe coffee now after all those years of macho manhood of full thrust of cafien dose, so will you find it in ur hearts to forgive a weak soul, like this one?

Sunday, April 16, 2006

What makes you more jordanian than me?

Recently, I read a post for hareega somewhere, about "who is a typical jordanian", that stirred up some emotions and feelings in me from prior experience.

You see, there are two facts here, one the fact that I'm orginally from palestine (granpa born in palestine, and dad in jordan). the second fact that I feel just as jordanian as any one else who can trace his/her ancestors to the land of jordan.

Now, why am I writing this? Well, some time ago, my jordanianism was questioned on the basis that my grandpa was born in palestine. That troubled me somehow, becuase many people missunderstand the name "jordanian".

So I turn the table around and ask "what makes you mkore jordanian more than me, him, or her?". Seriously

Does the fact that his grandpa was jordanian, makes him/her automatically jordanian?

Thats what lead me to this analysis that may back fire at me. We tend to take "jordanianism" for granted simply because my grandpa had sex with grandma in jordan, and taraaaaa, bo3bo3 is born a jordanian.

To me, one should question him/herself about this term "jordanian". It;s not a lable, but a responsibility. The respnsibility to love (for good and for bad) this land. To bare arms protecting it from the enemy. To participate in activities and actions that makes this land and it's people move forward. But to sit back, relaxed, and claim this honorable name, only on the basis of where grandpa was born?

I know that the majority of jordanian do realize this fact, but there seems to be a minority that assumes jordanianism onloy based on birth. We all know that nearly 50% of jordanians are of foreign origins, syrians, palestinians, and iraqi's. But do we know how many of them held arms defending this land, while their blood quinched the thirst of this land to honor, protect and serve?

Being a jordanian is not a gift or automatic assumption, but a label that comes with responsibility. And what more than blood would anyone gives to protect the land and it's people. So, what makes you jordanian more than me, him, or her? Everyone of us should ask this question, and attempt to answer it.

I tell ya one thing. I am a jordanian, and so is my dad, and for the very small minority that think otherwise, I challenge and ask "what makes you more jordanian than me?".

Friday, April 07, 2006

Unheard screams

why is white pure, and black is evil?
Light is good and darkness is wrong?

How do come to such conclusion? Isn't things are relative? oh well, thats not the point. The point here is all about darkness, blackness, and it's beauty.

For so many ages, darkness has been the target of criticism, and accusations. Evil is associated with darkness. Yet satan was created from fire.

aaaah, darkness..if only people could see how beautifull it is.

If we let our minds and imaginations seek it's beauty. Darkness ....unknown, hidden beneath the shadow of whatever is blocking the light. Each one of us has two creatures living within, the person that we see (flesh, and blood) and the shadow of him/her. I learned how to appreciate this shadow, and sometimes let it express itself, as long as it doesn't hurt the others. Wicked thoughts, we all carry. Deep personalities that are beneath the masks.

Do this excercise. Write down your thoughts, without screening them, seriously, without any limitations, and you'll be surprised of what you discover.

Darkness is beauty, but we chose not to see it.

A satanic worshipper, I'm not.
A darkened soul, yes I am
Seeking the beauty of the hidden treasures
of the soulm the mind, and the fantacy

A satanic worshipper, i shall never be
for my crime is only self expression
For beauty is not for the bright ones
but for the dark ones, it shall be

and the years may have tought me something, that many will refuse to even hear. and that is:

darkness arrives and then it fades,
running through this awfull maze,
am I lost will I soon be found
running barefoot on the ground
a twisted soul that cannot sleep
save me now for soon I’ll weep
can you hear me as I scream
save me from this awfull dream
as I wake I look around
and darkness still is all around



The candle light reflect upon the walls as I
Look up at my cieling at night.
I can feel the sorrows of my life
Creeping upon me once again.
Fillings of pain and agony from my old life
Depression and sufering taking over my new life.

Memories of the past wont leave my mind.
Pain and hate running again through my veins.
Scares and bruises remind me of the pain I once felt.
As I walk I can hear the chaines that hold me to this life of mine.

Its as if Im a prisoner,
Stuck here for all eternity.
Know what life brings
And I really want out.

All life gives is pain and suffering
For all to see. Revenge is what I seek.
My life has been getting harder The older I get.
The pain I feel is locked up inside.

The sadness in my life is easy to see When you look into my eyes.
All I ever hear is yelling and screaming.
I cant even tell right from wrong,
Do you see it in my eyes?

Sunday, April 02, 2006

And so it begins

today is my first day in my new life/career. It didn't start nice. Sunday morning, I got up, gathered my things, suit case, books, and files, and loaded the car. Said goodbye to the woman I will never ever love anyone but her, and kissed junior a goodbye/see ya in 2 weeks kiss, and got in the car. The skies were sunny, but my skies were cloudy and gloomy. Today is the day.

Drove out quickly not looking back fearing a moment of weakness. I still managed to get a short look at my wife waiving her hands and I could see those small tears from a distance. Kept driving to my disteny. I normally smoke a half a pack a day, but the 5 hour drive made me consume a little over a pack.

The only bright side was when I got to indiana borderlines, and I saw that the speed limit is 70 mph. Pushed a little more on the gas to escape my thoughts.

Today is day one, and a new life shall be born. A new career. A new chapter in my greatest fear, lonlyness. Never liked being alone after I got married. The past 7 hours made me realize what value my wife has in my life.

I'm counting on sopranos to occupy my mind away from thinking of her. Her picture never departed my mind. A new chapter, and it shall bring out so many dark moments of my life, now that the greatest light is not around me at least for 2 weeks.

Life shall go on I guess.