Your heart believes that you are forever entrapped in what has already passed. Your mind clings to the memories, even the painful ones, refusing to let them go. You can sense the outplacement of revelry and the restoration of sorrow in your daily acts. You try. You fail. You keep trying ; far beyond the first try. You give in; you eventually forgive. You grasp yourself letting go without even noticing. I forgive you.
Stop thinking of how good the past ought to have been and accordingly, where better place you could have been today, stop worrying about what the future will bring and where it will take you, because the thoughts of yesterday and worries about tomorrow are nothing but shackles that hold you…
One of my life-goals is to be able to eradicate sexual harassment from Egypt, in all its forms. I am really enthusiastic about this picture and very impressed that some people are finally taking some action. What we need is to get to the people in the street though, because the internet community is probably aware of this problem by now. We need to reach the other classes of people who actually represent the majority of the harassers. I suggest that each of us prints this photo and puts it in his/her street. If we all do that, well, we can’t guarantee that things will change from the first day, but we will make sure every person is aware that this is a problem. It is a crime.
You are either too optimistic that all you can perceive is a bright future, or too pessimistic to look forward to anything and can barely keep the hope alive. You either want to stay and make a change, or you wish it was that easy to runaway and leave the entire burden on your shoulders behind. You are either tremendously content or proud for winning a football match, or awfully distressed of the hardships we’ve been lately going through. Your feelings to the motherland are extremes; you can never catch yourself as an intermediate. With all the highs, all the lows and the few things in between; you’re a pure Egyptian.
It’s the time of the transient breezy spring days taking place right before the dusty hot weather takes over. The time of changing closets for the warm weather; for a relaxing vacation, for spring plans and a long to-do list that doesn’t necessarily own a plenty of crossed-out items. A time to breathe easy; a time to change. A time to blossom.
Cants=Cans; Dreams=plans :)
Did you know that the Egyptian pyramids lit up blue on the 2nd of April? a unique global initiative to help raise awareness about the growing public health concern, that is autism. Iconic landmarks including the Empire State Building in New York City, CN Tower in Toronto, Sydney Opera House; as well as businesses, communities, schools and homes around the world lit it up blue to show their support on the fifth annual World Autism awareness day. I’ve worked on autism disorder for a certain time for my high school psychology project. I’ve read and researched about the syndrome, talked to a psychiatrist and on a different circumstance, witnessed a live autistic case.
Mostafa, a young boy wearing blue sitting all alone rocking back and forth in a corner in a kids playing area where all of the other children were engaged in games and competitions. He doesn’t respond to his name nor to cuddling and repeats words and questions without eye-contacting instead of answering. I still hold a photographic memory of him; clear signs of autism. Mostafa lived in an underprivileged, temporary housing orphanage where 30 children lived in three rooms and a small outdoor area. The uneducated - yet very kindhearted- nannies there had no idea he had autism, or better yet, had no idea what autism is.
I listened to his story, it was disappointing to know that he isn’t an orphan, but a child whom his own poor parents couldn’t meet the expense of raising him up and couldn’t afford or deal with his actions so they dropped him by to this orphanage. At the beginning they used to stopover once every month, but then they cut it off. All they referred to here was “weird actions” of him. They never knew that these weird actions are considered a disease that needs a special care so it doesn’t develop into a more severe one, which I believe it already did. They weren’t attentive either that underlying these bizarre actions was a genius mind, a beautiful soul that needs a concern. One in eighty-eight children have autism; so no, it’s not rare and it’s not only about Mostafa nor only about autism. There are millions reminiscent of him with autism disorder and other billions with other syndromes living somewhere where nobody is aware of what they have or what they are passing through.
In our country, we aren’t really aware of psychological or mental diseases. We aren’t even responsive to them, though they’re much more excruciating than the physical ones. In fact, Mostafa isn’t considered as one of the most sufferers of our country. At the end of the day, he has a roof on top of his head at night when others extremely below the poverty line are with no homes and others in slums and run-down areas around Egypt. If we ever think of becoming a civilized country, one of the main fix-ups is taking into consideration the people who can’t get even a small fraction of their human rights, to overcome the extreme state of ignorance, unawareness and emptiness of minds that the people of our country have reached. If we ever want our reputable revolution to end up as success, we should revolute first against the empty souls, the shallow brains and the diminished morals of ourselves.
In my hard times, I’ll hide my depressing thoughts. I’ll conceal my aches. I’ll be all ears to get to the bottom of your problems, my friend. God have granted me that ability that I’ll wisely use. For besides easing your problems and relieving your troubled heart, it lightens me up; it fixes us both.
The passion. Because It’s all about the passion.
If you’re the type of a person who walks an extra mile for everything, the type who puts “giving up” as the last - if not an absent- choice, the type who tries all his best to keep away from the day or the situation when he gets to blame himself for not doing all what he could have done, know that this doesn’t make you weak, nor fragile. It rather makes you a human being, a mature grown-up who would rather stick to their dreams and bend over backwards to reach their goals than simply giving in; those people effortlessly win me best. Because nothing is unconditional, letting go sometimes makes you weaker than holding on to something you have always wished for. Even if you failed at attaining that very something, later on those remarkable moments would be the icing to your cake, the moments that jog your memory; reminding you of who you were, what you have badly wanted, what you have failed at and what you have finally arrived at. I proudly, walk an extra mile.
