1969

•April 14, 2011 • 1 Comment

I love almost all Mohammad Abdu songs, specifically the old Hijazy ones. This master piece has been an all time favorite of mine.

لاياحبيبي .. لاوربَّي ..
أَصحَك تِصدِّق .. يسلاك قلبي ..
عزَّزك عِندي وغلاَّك الغرام ..
ونزَّهك قلبي بتكذيبه الكلام ..
ماني مصدِّق فيك ..
كيف فيَّ تصدِّق ؟

ياللَّي عشانك حارت بيَّ ظنوني ..
من كثر حسنك أنا عاذر عيوني ..
ومن كثر شوقي إليك ..
حيرتي غارت عليك ..

ياما قالوا لي بإنَّي زَي لعبه فـ إيديك ..
ويا ما حكوا لي وياما شاوروا لي عليك ..
كنت أصدَّقهم و أكذَّب ..
صرت أقرَّبهم وأبعَّد ..

هُمَّ كِذا النَّاس ماخلَّوا لأحد حاله ..
مافي محب إلاَّ ويشوَّشوا باله ..
خلَّوك تتغيَّر تغِير ..
صرت توحشني كثير ..

تاريخ: 1970
كلمات: ثريا قابل
الحان: فوزي محسون

source

Aimless, No Compass

•March 31, 2011 • 2 Comments

Sitting on the balcony the view of the lake and the mountains would be what one would describe as breathtaking, however my stare is quite blank. I sip my coffee, my thoughts take me far, far away. Actually blank is what would closely describe my state not only my stare. To my astonishment the mesmerizing Swiss beauty brought nothing to my soul.

I feel empty inside, he had just left last night. I let him leave although I could have been promised the world. I knew better. My life and the bitterness many things in it have left behind taught me better. Made me the strong woman I am. He found himself here for no obvious reason, to me at least there was none. We did not meet, nor did we speak. There was nothing to be said. He said it all. All but what I wanted. I did not have the answer he would want to hear. So, I just left it at that. No reply. No decision. Nothing at all.

He left  with everything. Everything but me. I lost it all. He could have been my all. I have always been an all or nothing person and I do realize how bad that can be. The amount of damage this could cause.

It was still too early to go out after what I had thought was a decade. The misty weather is quite depressing for my taste. The calm cool breeze is something very foreign to the vibrant New Yorker I am. One used to smog in a fast paced city where the only sounds I get to hear this early are garbage trucks or police cars racing to get hold of someone somewhere.

I finish my third cup of coffee and decide to go for a drive, my mom will not be needing the driver nor the car for that matter for at least a few more hours. I walk down and wait for the driver, he hands me the keys while still insisting he take me himself. I grab them and giggle like an excited teenager and hope to god I just do not end up in Brussels.  I realize I did not have my ipod on me and decide against going back and getting it. I settle for my mom’s music which surprisingly enough is almost all Mohammad Abdu.

After several hours of driving aimlessly, speeding ridiculously with no sense of fear. – What is there to fear? I have never feared death ever. I am not suicidal but I do not have a fear of death. Nothing to lose and driving at that speed is definitely worth dying for. All the right reasons to live, but are they worth living? Are they worth missing out on the thrill for? Driving with the top down on a sunny day is one of them. – I head back. No compass to guide me, I have a GPS to help me get home but no compass to guide me from thereafter. What is the next step. A compass would show me north, would that be where I want to head? If I can figure all the other directions knowing where the north is, would I be able to figure where I actually want to go? More importantly, why?

My problem is far more complicated than having a compass.

Soul-searching is what I should do. Everything else will fall in place thereafter or so I hope.

A lot has happened, no place to be for the first time in my life. I have all this time to myself – at least this is the case after dropping a huge deal and ignoring even more. Now I have all the time I want but do not necessarily need, at least until tomorrow. As for now I am sure, tomorrow I may not be so sure. Till then, I have got until tomorrow.

Just as I stopped the car and took my seatbelt off this song starts playing, that one song you can never get out of the car and leave behind. I listened to it while fully parked then decided to grab the ipod with me and listen to it again.

I join my mom who was now out having her tea after I put the ipod on shuffle and placed it in the dock. We chit-chat a bit and she starts explaining some of her favorite songs to me as they played and what their lyrics meant. I completely and fully understand them. Nevertheless, I let her have her moment. I watched the twinkle in her eyes as she went on telling me about the nights my dad had to travel. Nights when they would stay up late talking over the phone listening to Allah yrd kh6ak ldroob khilanak – which is a Talal Maddah song I actually like a lot myself.

I comment on her ipod having almost only Mohammad Abdu and she mentions that was how she had gotten it. It contains every Mohammad Abdu song there is out there since he started up to the day she had got it. Guess everything is different in Saudi after all. An all Mohammad Abdu ipod. Now that is something I would not mind having myself.

Yes, I did think about stealing it and saying I forgot it in my pocket only to realize I had it as I was getting on the plane.

HIM

•March 31, 2011 • 2 Comments

This song took me back to Gia’s Perfect Latte. What had happened between Saud and I, a part I promise I will get to; sooner than later.

Other parts reminded me of him.

Weird how the same song can be a mix of both the past I have left far behind and the unknown future which I have decided was too scary to face.

A tide so big. Definitely too big to swim against. Especially knowing I would be swimming alone while he rests allowing the water to sweep him to shore….

Familiar… safe…..

While I am left alone… facing the unknown….

شفت خلَّي بعد غيبه .. شفته في حالة غريبه
ضاع من عينه الحنان .. الَّلي عِشناه مِن زمان
غيروا غيري حبيب .. خلاَّ حبَّي عنده هان
صرت بأساير ظنوني .. صرت بأحايل عيوني
صرت أترجَّى دموعي .. لاتبيَّن له خضوعي
ياما جدَّدت الأماني … في غيابك
وياما ردَّدت الأغاني … في عِتابك
كنت من شوقي إليك .. أحسب إنِّي بين أيدك
ولمَّا جت عيني عليك .. وبانت الحيره عليك
صرت أترجَّى دموعي .. لاتبيَّن له خضوعي
يالَّلي ذاتك في حياتك .. كل شي
ويالَّلي جودك مِن وجودك .. ماهو شي
الحُب في طبعك هوايه .. مش مِن الحُب الأصيل
والهوى لو كان هوايا .. ماتخيَّرتك خليل
بعدِ ماحقَّقت آمالك .. شلت طيفي من خيالك
ولمَّا جت عيني عليك .. وبانت الحيره عليك
صرت أترجَّى دموعي .. لاتبيَّن له خضوعي
مافي فايده مِن عِتابي .. الزَّمن بينك وبيني
لمَّا تِتذكر عذابي .. السِّنين بتوفَّي ديني
والَّلي حبيته يملَّك .. والَّلي عزَّيته يذلَّك
تِفتكر حبَّي معاك .. تفتكر ايَّام صفاك
تشتكي لي مِن أساك
تاريخ: 1975
كلمات: الغريب
الحان: محمد عبده
مقام: بياتي
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The End

•March 26, 2011 • Leave a Comment

This is not the end
This is not the beginning,
Just a voice like a riot
Rocking every revision
But you listen to the tone
And the violent rhythm
Though the words sound steady
Something empty’s within ’em

We say Yeah!
With fists flying up in the air
Like we’re holding onto something
That’s invisible there,
‘Cause we’re living at the mercy of
The pain and the fear
Until we dead it, Forget it,
Let it all disappear.

Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It’s out of my control….

Flying at the speed of light
Thoughts were spinning in my head
So many things were left unsaid
It’s hard to let you go…

(Oh!) I know what it takes to move on,
(Oh!)I know how it feels to lie,
All I wanna do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven’t got

Sitting in an empty room
Trying to forget the past
This was never meant to last,
I wish it wasn’t so…

(Oh!) I know what it takes to move on,
(Oh!)I know how it feels to lie,
All I wanna do

Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven’t got

What was left when that fire was gone?
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong
All caught up in the eye of the storm
And trying to figure out what it’s like moving on
And i don’t even know what kind of things I’ve said
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead
So, picking up the pieces, now where to begin?
The hardest part of ending Is starting again!!

All I wanna do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what i haven’t got…

This is not the end
This is not the beginning,
Just a voice like a riot
Rocking every revision
But you listen to the tone
And the violent rhythm
Though the words sound steady
Something empty’s within ’em
(Holding on to what i haven’t got)

We say Yeah!
With fists flying up in the air
Like we’re holding onto something
That’s invisible there,
‘Cause we’re living at the mercy of
The pain and the fear
Until we dead it, Forget it,
Let it all disappear
(Holding on to what i haven’t got!)

 

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MASOCHIST

•March 19, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Giving up is a crime. Crying begging me to stay. Crying asking for my forgiveness.  I have never been one to forgive. I just choose to forget. I try to. I normally succeed.

I am not one known to wear her heart on her sleeve. Yet, this huge mess happened. It was so wrong in every way and far from ideal. I guess I was delusional just like I had convinced myself all along of having the upper hand in this situation. Truly believing I could never get hurt. Until my heart caught on fire. Never had I thought it was all in my head.

I found out too late when nothing could be done. I discovered this after I had failed terribly to think rationally and compartmentalize. I made a mistake of failing to run a simple test before proceeding further in performing this execution. I did however perform a mini trial which was just as painful if not more. I should have given it time. I could have gotten bored. It could have faded on its own. Such is life. It would have I am sure it would.

In all honesty it was too valuable to watch die on its own. I prefered to kill it. Just like a bitch would eat her own puppy if she fears it will not make it.

The aftermath is too much for me to handle. The sadness although sometimes with no tears is far more than I can cope with. Things I knew all along but never dared to say out loud were repeated everyday for my ears to hear and eyes to see. I did not want to know about your thrilling life nor sexual escapades. A life complete without me. A life where I am pointed out to as an expansion. I was constantly calculating my every move. Even during the most intimate moments. I was not happy. I was sad. Thoughts were rushing through my head when all I should have been feeling was love. Unlimited everlasting love.

I ignored unconditional which is what I deserve exactly like the love I had provided. Love that was not an ounce less even after learning the truth. Truth that I had known part of all along before allowing myself to even get close. Truth that I saw was more than enough to make the situation undesirable and serve as a high fence my heart would never dare to jump over, or so I thought.

You said you loved me and still do. You should have lied to me. You wanted me forever and still do yet you chose to tell me the truth. I constantly encouraged you to lie. You should have lied. You should have done just that.

I felt pain rip through my heart. Only to gather the pieces, put them back together and love some more. I allowed myself to continue and indulge in the most painful situation I have ever encountered.

I must be a masochist of some kind.

Three Minutes on Royal Street

•March 19, 2011 • 1 Comment

I swore I would not cry and I was doing so well. Up until three minutes ago, I saw something that made my eyes fill up with tears. I guess it will take time. It just felt so good to be strong and have control. So I thought. I do not.

I was walking down Royal Street in New Orleans going back to my hotel on a chilly night,  I had just passed The Supreme Court around the address 410 Royal St. After walking three minutes on Royal Street I decided to cry no more. I decided to bury my heart right then and there. I thought I did at 610 Chartres St. I even took this picture to remember where to come back to for my heart; in case I needed it to survive. It felt so good to make a decision and be able to do it in three minutes. I could have sworn I succeeded until three minutes ago.

Never had I thought about truly ending it up until that moment. That exact night; after I felt I had completely lost control. I was sure everything would be downhill from thereafter. The pain I was feeling was not the pain of growth it was the pain of suffering and being lied to.

I have never cried over love that ends. I am a true believer that every time you fall in love and think this is it. You fall out of love only to find love once again. I do not believe that one finds love and lives happily ever after. I believe that when there is love which happens without one having control over, one has the choice to make it last forever or simply walk away. So once love comes along it is in your hands thereafter, to nourish and let grow or to step on your heart and end it. The latter in my case has always been easier.

I always wonder what people who cry love are about. Why cry if you can do something. If the situation is out of your hands then why are you wasting your time thinking about it knowing the other person does not think it is worth it. I do not believe in situations that neither have control over. One might not be strong enough to overcome the obstacles; that is when the other knows the love is not strong enough. Love which can easily be defeated. That is when you are supposed to let go. When you stop investing time and emotions without further delay. The longer you wait the more bitter you will feel, even about the silliest things in addition to the time you have wasted.

The happiest moments will never occur to you. If they were real one would hang on to them forever. I think of love like many think of superpowers. It takes over you and possesses you. It makes you do the craziest things and laugh afterwards remembering why you did them.

I felt hopeless and helpless. This time I cried. Love is not a word. Love is something that one might feel even in the most odd situations. I found it in the oddest situation of them all. If one wants this love and thinks it is worth it, one makes this love last for as long as these feelings last. Unfortunately there was nothing that I could do on my behalf. I was not even ready for this to begin with. It took me by surprise. Actions that did not translate the amount of love were what made me mad. Mad and sad. Afterwards, there was pain. Lots of pain. A huge amount of sorrow which no person can handle.

Why are you crying? I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Why are you crying if you say you love me? My love is not supposed to make you cry. Why are you making me cry? Why are you letting me cry? Why are you watching me walk away? Why are you crying while I walk away? Crying will not bring me back. When walking away is my choice. One I made when I had no other.

I fell in love and felt loved at least it sure seemed like it. My guards were down; I would have never chosen this situation nor ever imagined it happening to me in a million years. It felt so comfortable being close. I thought I was safe and there was nothing to fear or be afraid of.  I thought I had everything under control. I played with fire. I did not expect it to burn me. I knew what it was I’m playing with. Knowing how dangerous the situation was not enough. I had rules. I had decided to play by those rules. New rules which I have added specifically, in addition to ones that had always existed. It happened. My heart caught on fire. Raising my guards back up took care of everything. Everything but feeling bitter.

Listening to this song on my way to New Orleans had such a different meaning than it did on my way back.  At first I was singing about what I had or believed that I did have, on my way back it was all about wanting exactly that – which I did not find therefore I left behind.

Dying for who you love and dying without them is just in songs. Being alive yet not being able to live is my reality or was my reality. I never ask for anything that is just who I am. I never wait for things. I only want things I can make happen. If I have no control over the situation I walk away. I expect the person involved to do the same. If it does not happen then there is nothing to feel sad about or regret. I am a strong woman and I do not apologize for who I am. I tried ripping off the band-aid before New Orleans and failed terribly. I was in bed for two days and my brother was singing “maree9′ L ma7abah” thinking I had a lover in New York that I was missing during the two days I visited him. Little did he know my problem was far more complicated.

Posting the song a few hours ago felt like solid proof that there was non of that mentioned in the lyrics. The more I read them and sang along the more I was convinced. Posting it made me feel so strong and proud that I did in fact see things very clear. It took the charm of the streets of New Orleans to get me to see the light. Light in a situation that was not even dark at the time. The French Corner’s charm made me see everything in its true colors, then I saw a way out. More importantly gave me a reason to want out, to justify what my heart would call a crime. I had a few shoulders to cry on at the time. Luckily I did not need. I had cried two nights before and the day after until I thought I could cry no more. Up until three minutes ago.

I made the right decision leaving my sorrow in a city I love…..

New Orleans…. Where The Heart Is…….

What Have You Been Up To?

•March 19, 2011 • Leave a Comment

First off, thank you for the emails. I am replying in a post because this is what I was supposed to be doing before being asked in the first place. I will try to mention the positive things that have happened since I posted my New Year’s Resolutions all I want is to be happy post. I am very happy. And old. Happy and old. As I have blown a candle last night adding another year to my life. No cake just a single candle over a dessert we shared after dinner. Very me. A very adult like birthday with a close friend and a lovely dark maroon oversized clutch he got me. We saw it while we were walking back to my place few days before going to New Orleans but the store was closed. So cute of him. I can’t even remember where the store was. Well, I am old so that is normal I guess.

The birthday celebration had started a few days before. Driving through the Bible Belt all the way down to LA. Which I may or may not post about in detail. It just felt right to have Jazz and close friends during these few days I was able to take off before the busiest week. Yes, my life sucks this much, to the point I can’t even choose the weekend of my birthday to take off. It just had to be the few days before.

Work and school….. it is crunch time to say the least. Less than six weeks till the end of the semester and tons of deadlines that might not be met if I fail to get my hands on that transparent NZT pill. Then comes the Board’s preparation that I have been putting off. I have not even sent the letter back to confirm taking it this year.

Lastly, I fell. I fell real hard. It was like I was sleep walking. Woke up. Picked myself up. Stood up. Dusted myself off. Now I am walking. Soon will start running and will be back on track. By soon I mean tomorrow.

I just had the best coffee in my life. I will definitely have a post on it. That’s how good it is. Got it from my beloved NOLA. I will keep drinking until I get my hands on that pill.

P.S. I will finish Gia’s Perfect Latte. This song started playing on my Blip account the minute I was done editing this post so I guess it is only right to include it.