It’s November, the weather is still hot but it will surely get cold on the end of the month. I can’t wait to start studying again. Everything was pure on a day before sunsets, and I’m trying to restore that solid moments of happiness. The leaves are fallen and prepare it self to a new cycle. I’m going to write with my tears, I don’t have other time to live. It’s time to bring the best in us, live wholly and truly. We are still young and I want to age gracefully, shine brighter through the years. It’s a vision that I created for myself, I want to live through pressed flowers, lavender breath, sweet November air with smells of books and fruits on a rainy day. It’s the sensational life that we observe first and what lie a head it’s a reflection of the mind, in its essence and its complexity. I want to write so I can see myself on papers; diagnose myself and find my identity between the letters. It’s for you who I write and me who I see. So, open your eyes gently and breath under the oak tree, you’re the king of your path. It’s you who I dream of, your lips presses against mine, you smell of oud and umber on jasmine, you told me you will never leave me, you told me I was like honey, years gone by now and I knew with time as it passes by that I will never here your voice again. Here I am covering my eyes with one hand in an empty room full of only darkness, I don’t want to hear voice, I don’t want to hear a voice.
Thursday, 17th of August, I have always seen myself as a kid with big hopes and secrets, and I couldn’t handle the worn beliefs nor the rotten beating heart of a human being. In my early years of consciousness I loved my experiences in reading philosophy, I remember reading for the first time to Schopenhauer and later to Nietzsche and I’ve followed blindly what they’ve said although at times I had different opinions. I can’t deny my love for Jesus character, his elegance of being a good man and I’ve sadly wanted to hold a cross necklace one day to represent my appreciation and love for such a great tortured soul. I’ve born in a strictly Muslim family, my father is religiously fanatic and my mother too. Since my childhood; I’ve never found the answer in religion nor praying and I’ve abandoned questioning god. Saturday, 20 of August “kiss me hard before you go, summer time sadness” it’s just the perfect time to say goodbye to summer and this line is from one of my favorite songs of all time. Don’t worry darling, enjoy your days and remember they hate you because they cannot be you, they harasses you because it’s the stupid way of human nature. Don’t worry, you are different, you are pure and beautiful and with this beauty you can create and change the world around you. Tuesday, 22nd of August, I realized that anger leads to no where and noise comes from an empty mind. There’s no way to control our future but through planning, caring about your surroundings is a necessity and do not forget nurturing your soul with knowledge. In my hospital days, I became more and more silent, you almost can never here the heavy sound of my breath, my silence is something many people that surrounds me noticed it. As much as I liked silence, I loved hearing different voices, one of the patients in hospital was singing a strange song, she always repeated it and I kind of heard the sound of the universe in her tunes. Thursday, 24th of August, I don’t want to be smart nor clever, I want to be dumb, dump human being, I want to be stupid bravery and integrity. I don’t want your evil intelligence! Sunday, 27th of August, I was living in a society that full of flaws, I raised in an environment where women’s are attacked harshly and disrespectfully when she does any mistake. I see myself grows as a perfectionist and literally didn’t want anybody to get to me, I failed in many ways.
It’s 12:26 pm Tuesday 11th of April and I’m drinking coffee and listening to La boheme by Charles Aznavour, thinking about my mom and how she reached a level where we can’t provide any help, sadly to note that she totally lost her mind, she gone insane and I didn’t want to talk about that in my diaries but I must let it out and just speak about it. She imagines that she is eating bugs and filthy things, she thinks that everyone comes around our home is a magician or a witch and they want to hurt her. Wednesday, 12th of April 2:33 French melodies in my ear again, drinking green tea, time flies, years gone by, the memories are the only thing that remains. I don’t know what to do for my mom, of course I won’t tell her you are insane! But I will try to be diplomatic always, and do whatever she wants me to do, if it makes her happier and satisfied, I don’t know if I mentioned this in my previous journals but I started working for oriflame company, it’s Swedish and they produce and provide us with 100% natural cosmetics and skincare products. Thursday, 13th of April, I realized how much I changed through years, I’m not who I am when I was 17 or even last year, I became more aware of art and beauty, I started enjoying music more, searching for painters and loving Vilhelm Hammersoi paintings while I was a mad communist in my teenage years! I feel me in every detail and tune, I feel myself when I’m around the sunshine and seas surrounding me, I feel who I am in every deep breath and existential moment.
Saturday, 15th of April, and back at home again after one day spent in hospital with my mom, hope she will be fine as soon as possible. She’s old know and needs tens-full caring routine, hope I would be able to return a little bit of what she have done to us all this years, I love you mom although you are horrible and unbearable sometimes. Sunday, 16th of April, hearing an excerpt audio recorded of a speech given by Noam Chomsky in June 1998 in Canada, its incredible and absolutely helpful in my field, after that I watched a 1:55 hour conversation on privacy, between Noam Chomsky, Edward Snowden and Glenn Greenwald, revealing all secrets of government behavior against its citizens. I don’t ask for help from anyone, I’ve never done this and I will never do it. I won’t expect something from anyone, even the closest people to me, my father, the closed minded, thus he will never understand what a human being is and what does human rights means, or what’s the horrible actions that was done by our government, he will never understand the right to a free mind, privacy like Snowden said once. I will be able to stand on my own feet one day stronger. Yesterday, I finished a book for Mikhail Niamey and it was so beautiful and beyond description, I can classify it under philosophy but it’s more than that and I learned from it a lot.
Thursday, 27th of April is a very special day to me, today I met my first love, my one and only, the love of my life, a page that will never be folded, no matter how years pass and no matter how we grow old and our memories grow with us. On this day last year, we talked, and we kissed, we made love and we left ourselves to be carried to the unknown. My dearest love, wherever you are, I send you warm regards as the sun’s heat over the ocean.
Days ago, I’ve been instantly surprised by a confession from a friend on the internet, he’s 26 years old, Taurus, writer and poet, and he lives in Alqatif, Alsharqiyah, Saudi Arabia. Give me a chance with you, he said, I want to be with you, he said. I told him: I’m not ready for a relationship at the moment and I will be around if you wanted to talk, he wasn’t satisfied with that and he said: I want to see you, I told him: I send you pictures of me it’s not enough? And he replies with yes, it’s not enough! And I am now in a very embarrassing situation, I don’t know what should I tell him, I don’t want to break his feelings or his heart and he already knew that I don’t care about him! I will let things to go and to take its normal place through time, I’m drifting in this life, I don’t know where to go or what to seek.
Wednesday 8th of March, Here is gone a week now, without writing a word, I want to discuss the meaning of home this month but I don’t know if I will actually do it. Sometimes or a lot of times I’m totally bored, during long periods of the day. Sitting, watching tv programs and sometimes movies, playing chess or on social media apps in my phone. I didn’t meditate from a month maybe, I lost some weight and I feel thinner and lighter. My diary title this month is inspired by the usual smell of our home that we live in daily. Thursday 9th of March, Today marks the birth of a legendary chess champion and a big inspiration to me. Bobby Fischer we love you and you may Rest In Peace. Friday 10th of March, today was calm and sunny, I got up early, drinking hot green tea and listening to an old Bahraini folk song. I’m currently searching and watching pictures of many palaces around the world, home decoration inspired by the Victorian lifestyle, it’s fascinated me specially, that I’m a big fan of the minimalism movement and everything came later from contemporary arts and cultures, and I seriously want my home dreams to be Victorian and almost like a palace, and who doesn’t? Saturday, 18th of March, I had a vision of completely wonderful words, yesterday before sleeping and I totally forgot it when I got up. It’s just a line or maybe a sentence but i totally forget it, I’m trying to remember know hopefully it will come out to my mind later. Days are calm by the air, listening to killing joke for the first time from a while. Love them, and they will always be my all time favorites.
Teusday 21st of March, Depeche Mode released their new album ‘spirit’ this month and its absolutely incredible. I loved two songs the most from the album, the first is going backwards and it talks about technology and its bad use against humanity and how we’re going back to ‘man cave mentality’ by this, and it’s reminded me of what happened with me on hands of my government and how Edward Snowden reveals this secret project, I don’t remember it’s name and I don’t have a lot of information on USA’s project but in my case I know that they know everything about me. The second song is titled as ‘so much love’ and it talks about other human interactions, sufferings, pain and how after all this, there is no love. The album has the usual Depeche Mode atmosphere with a lot of electronics sound, after all, I gave it 8/10 rate. Monday, 27th of March, calm mornings, reading a lot of poems in the early hours, for Sylvia Plath, Anne Carson and Ted Hughes. Wednesday, 29th of March, at the end of this month, lovely moments are spent on learning French, listening to classical music, Dmitri Shostakovich precisely, and watching romantic films such as Lolita and An education and here is some remarks of Nabokov’s incredible classic, Lolita, beside fragments of the film’s script that was released in 1997.
She was “Lo”, plain “Lo” in the morning…
standing four-feet-ten in one sock.
She was “Lola” in slacks, she was “Dolly” at school…
she was “Dolores” on the dotted line.
In my arms she was always…
Light of my life…
fire of my loins.
My sin… my soul.
Gentlewomen of the jury…
If my happiness could’ve talked…
It would have filled that hotel with a deafening roar.
My only regret…
is that I did not immediately deposit key number 342 at the office and leave the town, the country, the planet, that very night.
“The Lord knows all, the Lord sees all, the Lord forgives all.”
Despite all that… I was in paradise.
Paradise whose skies were the color of hellflames.
But a paradise, still.
I looked and looked at her,
and I knew as clearly as I know that I will die… that I loved her more than anything I’d ever seen or imagined on earth.
She was only the dead leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago, but I loved her; this Lolita, pale and polluted, and big with another man’s child. She would fade and wither, I didn’t care. I would still go mad with tenderness… at the mere sight of her face.
Away from romanticism, there is a book I’ve always wanted to read, specially after reading ‘Chaos: making a new science’ to James Gleick before, in translated version of course, this book is breathtaking and brilliant and it’s titled ‘ The information: a history, a theory, a flood’ I’ve searched many websites to find an Arabic PDF version but unfortunately it’s not translated yet, so I was reading few remarks from the book and here it’s.
“For the purposes of science, information had to mean something special. Three centuries earlier, the new discipline of physics could not proceed until Isaac Newton appropriated words that were ancient and vague—force, mass, motion, and even time—and gave them new meanings. Newton made these terms into quantities, suitable for use in mathematical formulas. Until then, motion (for example) had been just as soft and inclusive a term as information. For Aristotelians, motion covered a far-flung family of phenomena: a peach ripening, a stone falling, a child growing, a body decaying. That was too rich. Most varieties of motion had to be tossed out before Newton’s laws could apply and the Scientific Revolution could succeed. In the nineteenth century, energy began to undergo a similar transformation: natural philosophers adapted a word meaning vigor or intensity. They mathematicized it, giving energy its fundamental place in the physicists’ view of nature. It was the same with information. A rite of purification became necessary. And then, when it was made simple, distilled, counted in bits, information was found to be everywhere.”
“Logic might be imagined to exist independent of writing—syllogisms can be spoken as well as written—but it did not. Speech is too fleeting to allow for analysis. Logic descended from the written word, in Greece as well as India and China, where it developed independently. Logic turns the act of abstraction into a tool for determining what is true and what is false: truth can be discovered in words alone, apart from concrete experience. Logic takes its form in chains: sequences whose members connect one to another. Conclusions follow from premises. These require a degree of constancy. They have no power unless people can examine and evaluate them. In contrast, an oral narrative proceeds by accretion, the words passing by in a line of parade past the viewing stand, briefly present and then gone, interacting with one another via memory and association.”
“The macromolecules of organic life embody information in an intricate structure. A single hemoglobin molecule comprises four chains of polypeptides, two with 141 amino acids and two with 146, in strict linear sequence, bonded and folded together. Atoms of hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, and iron could mingle randomly for the lifetime of the universe and be no more likely to form hemoglobin than the proverbial chimpanzees to type the works of Shakespeare. Their genesis requires energy; they are built up from simpler, less patterned parts, and the law of entropy applies. For earthly life, the energy comes as photons from the sun. The information comes via evolution. ”
“Evolution itself embodies an ongoing exchange of information between organism and environment …. The gene has its cultural analog, too: the meme. In cultural evolution, a meme is a replicator and propagator — an idea, a fashion, a chain letter, or a conspiracy theory. On a bad day, a meme is a virus.”
It’s not like reading poetry in English, I really need an Arabic version, I re-read it few times so I make sure that I understand what he’s saying but I can see that’s well written for an English speaker and I wanted to read it, specially that the subject is very interesting to me. Hopefully, they will translate it in the few coming years.
I must hurt you so good to reveal all this madness and ugliness. some people feels the insults deeply and they can’t forget when they get hurt. I get punished once for insulting someone for 3 years of my life, and I don’t know if he will still keep punishing me. First days of this month I was blogging a lot of shit on tumblr and I read many remarks for Hermann Hesse and Vladimir Nabokov. I’ve watched the danish girl it’s really beautiful and deeply breathtaking, so romantic and peaceful and the real painter Einar Wegener is a true hero. Monday, 6th of February, the weather is cold and sullen today, 14 degrees in the morning. Me, drinking coffee and touching my glasses and I feel like a real writer, I want to buy a typewriter one day so I can complete the image I’ve drawn in my imagination for myself. I want to write a thousand word in this month and hope for every month, just like September of 2016. It’s not a word race more than a mind trace, I want to organize my thoughts and experience writing many words on a paper and finally I’m finished for today. Tuesday, 7th of February, I was talking to an Egyptian man on Facebook, from long time I didn’t talk to someone and he’s a civil engineer by day and music producer by night. He made a beautiful song dedicated to me and he named it ” Ode to Somayah” I really loved it and he’s absolutely talented. We’ve shared photos of each other and I was shocked because he was black and I’ve never been in a relationship with a black person, although he likes me a lot but I’m sure that we will never be more than friends since I have enormous troubles with a black guy I’ve mentioned before in my previous journals. Saturday, 11th of February, today, I’m breathing and happy that I’m a live. I’m going to enjoy these small moments and I’m going to live in the moment without worries of tomorrow. I’m not going to carry the past for I’m a new person everyday, I’m not going to ask for more or less, I’m going to avoid distractions and I don’t want anything to disturb me in my journey through life. Tuesday, 14th of February is a rainy day with lots of memories and laughs. I read many citations for the poetic of space by Gaston Bachelard and this book is on my reading list. I remark, “We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world will never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.” And here he said: “And all the spaces of our past moments of solitude, the spaces in which we have suffered from solitude, enjoyed, desired, and compromised solitude, remain indelible within us and precisely because the human being wants them to remain so. He knows instinctively that this space identified with his solitude is creative; that even when it is forever expunged from the present, when, henceforth, it is alien to all the promises of the future, even when we no longer have a garret, when the attic room is lost and gone, there remains the fact that we once loved a garret, once lived in an attic. We return to them in our night dreams. These retreats have the value of a shell. And when we reach the very end of the labyrinths of sleep, when we attain to the regions of deep slumber, we may perhaps experience a type of repose that is pre-human; pre-human, in this case, approaching the immemorial. But in the daydream itself, the recollection of moments of confined, simple, shut-in space are experiences of heartwarming space, of a space that does not seek to become extended, but would like above all still to be possessed. In the past, the attic may have seemed too small, it may have seemed cold in winter and hot in summer. Now, however, in memory recaptured through daydreams, it is hard to say through what syncretism the attic is at once small and large, warm and cool, always comforting.” I’m in love with his poetic language and atmosphere, since we’re in Valentine’s Day, philosophy seemed glimmering in a new uniform; in his words and works. Monday, 20 of February, “you get ready you get all dressed up to go nowhere in particular, back to work or the coffee shop doesn’t matter cause it’s enough to be young and in love” Lana’s new single, I didn’t like it that much, she actually released it on 19th of February. It has her touch and like most of her song’s lyrics: young, dressed up, party dress, cruise, blues, crazy and so on. Hope I can complete more than 20 book this year, I usually read around this amount per year but this time I want to raise my attic.