Wafaa's fear

Today has made it pretty clear. The me not being connected to anywhere, belonging to nowhere. No identity, no existence; utterly naught. I have known it for long now, but still, it hurts as if I have never. I fear a day comes when I can no longer ignore it; a day when memories of the past pass away, and nothing of the present may fit instead. I fear a day comes when life is what it now seems; a day when hope has no room in a territory of fake glories. I fear there will remain no more dreams to be. I fear there will be no more days to come, when entities are entities regardless of race or religion or possessions, and when countries are one country regardless of the made-up names or lines called borders. And between the shadows of such fears travels a youngster who has lost trace of time. One who has been blown away and overpassed on the way back. One whose journey was crippled due to an unpaved path. One whose love blooms even when watered with sorrow, and whose hope keeps shining as long as breaths are still to be taken.

Wafaa

Dedicated to Oslo/Utøya martyrs

Don’t stop, don’t help me, I’m already gone.
Don’t call me, don’t text me, I’ve already withered.
Don’t cry out for me, I’m taken.

Evil decided to silence me,

It's wicked; the sound of terror disturbed the song of my democracy; when she bothered him, he didn’t like it, forced me to stop

Stop? I won’t stop; my soul cries freedom from above.
Don’t wait for me, I won’t be back, but I’ll stay.

I’ll stay in your past, and the future will bloom thousands and millions of me.

As Warm as Snow by Wafaa

As dawn carefully crept in, embroidering the hill tops with golden canvas, not daring to disturb snow from its nap after a night of hard labor, tranquility governed. Creatures retired each into a secret corner, availing peaceful moments as such. Out of silence depths, the landing of snowflakes played a pleasant melody as they basted their perfect white gown, while the wind stood still, frozen by nips penetrating it from every direction. How would it feel like out there, being no one yet everyone? Would the smell of snow sweeten the breaths I take? Would its cold outshine the chilliness overwhelming me? I gazed longingly at that hypnotic view, desiring bits of its serenity; but a recurring cheep echoed through my sighs, luring my attention towards a forlorn swallow. His shivering feathers glittered in my tears, and his agony shared mine its root. How similar we looked at that moment, the songbird and I; for we were both captives of memories that have gone too far to overhaul.

Hide and seek by Wafaa

Yesterday night, as I gazed at the sky, I couldn't help but feel jealous of how peaceful it looked. I was lured back in time to long-gone childhood days, where I opted for a memory of us as children playing "Hide and Seek". The sole concern that stewed our minds then was losing the game. I remembered how we could have easily cheated then but our dignity inhibited us. I remembered how we never chose the same place to hide in during one game. I remembered how we helped one another in finding a good shelter. I remembered how we took turns being the seeker. Many times we argued, yelled, and even stopped being friends for ten minutes or so; but it never banned us from settling things and starting a new game the next time we met. I thought of what a wonderful place this world would have been if people's minds stayed as innocent as a child's. I was grateful for the few we still have as such. As for today, I see life as another game of "Hide and Seek"; hiding our fears while seeking light through a dark way; hiding our disappointments while seeking hope on times of depression; hiding repeated faults in seeking new opportunities when old ones dispirit us; hiding our agony in seeking faith through adversity; seeking wisdom in our decisions, love in our actions, kindness in our relationships, and self-satisfaction in how we choose to live.

What a wonderful world

20% of the world’s population consumes 80% of its resources.

The world spends 12 times more on military expenditures than on aid to developing countries.

5,000 people die because of dirty drinking water. 1 billion people have no access to safe drinking water.

Nearly 1 billion people are going hungry.

Over 50% of grain traded around the world is used for animal feed or biofuels.

40% of arable land has suffered long-term damage.

Every year, 13 million hectares of forest disappear.

One mammal in 4, one bird in 8, one amphibian in 3 are threatened with extinction. Species are dying out at a rhythm 1,000 times faster than the natural rate.

Three quarters of fishing grounds are exhausted, depleted or in dangerous decline.

The average temperature of the last 15 years has been the highest ever recorded.

The ice cap is 40% thinner than 40 years ago.

There may be at least 200 million climate refugees by 2050.

facts based on the documentary Home

It's December, Next Comes January By Wafaa

When the traditional fuss starts over the year’s last month, the exile I feel glitters the most. A few passing years have been deficient in fervor which used to mesmerize me by the end of each year. It bugs, being aware of it but unable to change it. New dreams mourn their lack of ambitions; new hopes suffer a dearth of igniting sparks. I miss smiles that once reflected deep relief. I miss spirits that once scattered warmth through the coldest days. I miss promising eyes that once sparkled among the darkest ways. I miss me –a while ago- when my determination shaded a tough reality. I miss my homeland, my grandma’s house, my family gatherings, my friends’ gossip, and the listing is infinite. So another year is about to set off, but despite the commotion that fills the universe with colorful images and joyful sounds, it still feels gloomy and stagnant. For me, this time of year, with the auspicious optimism it is supposed to convey, has lost its individuality between others. Years pass by as if they haven't; no remarkable significance or development indicates their existence. I am more cognizant but less certain. I am more mature but less content. As I grow a year older, my hopes and expectations grow a year ashier. Years have had their mark on my age, my awareness, my maturity, but not on the concept I chose to live; hopefully, it will be actualized one day. I wish the dictator be cured, and the tyrannized be rescued. I wish the agonized attains ease, and the expatriate finds home. I wish morals exceed materialism. I wish love heals what abuse shatters. I wish peace pervades spirits, and unites the world to one nation; a populace believing in equality, respecting freedom of mind, and appreciating the reward of living.

** May This Month Apprise of a Blessed New Year **

Words from Billy Elliot

Dear Billy,
I know I must seem a distant memory to you, which is probably a good thing. It will have been a long time, and I missed seeing you grow.Missed you crying, laughing and studying.
I will have missed telling you off.But please know that I was always there with you through everything. I always will be, and I'm proud to have known you...and I am proud that you are mine.
Always be yourself....I'll love you forever.
Mom

A bullet

I need a brush to paint a smile on their sad faces.

I need a fast car to escape my desires.

I need a bully to remind me of my childhood.

I need a halo so I can look better in photos.

I need some attention to keep stabilizing my ego.

I need anarchy to revolt against my anger’s authority.

I need a bullet to shoot the evil that strangled my innocence.

Thinking loud

Why do I have to carry that cross? What about some “Simon” to help me on the way?

It bugs, it burns when Michael doesn’t stand for his beliefs.

“I will save the world”, what a joke. I can’t even save myself.

I’ve made 10 rounds around the sun, but it feels cold.

I doubt the rules of my physics: Mike has much potential, but null Kinetic.

Once upon a time there was an idea, a gift free Christmas and… “Much fuss about nothing”…..The end L

Giving a hug can sometimes turns out to be a painful experience, is that normal?

I don’t regret wasting some time watching “Jamie Oliver”.

I think Jesus won’t make it this year; there are too many boxes blocking his way.

I asked Wafaa and she answered:

A friend asked me the other day if I sometimes wonder about the reason of my living. I have to admit he chose a perfect timing. With everything circulating, I was dreadfully searching the answer to that. Well my friend, every time my circumstances rule, that question troubles my mind. Every time despair imbues my whole being, I think of it. Many times I have slipped down to the fisrt step of the ladder that took me ages to scramble in seconds. I find myself starting from naught again - blowing away my dreams and collecting the wrecks to start building new ones. And then, endless thoughts invade me; I even doubt if it is worth trying at all. If chances have ever failed you repeatedly when you needed them the most, you would know what I mean. I usually believe there must be an ingress behind which hope is waiting, but this belief is shaken on such times. You might judge it a pessimistic attitude, but I can do nothing about it; not as long as the world moves on while I am stuck inside a loop, stupidly moving on a track with no shifts. To say the truth, I am exhausted; I am sick of giving up my dreams and expectations again and again. I wish you have given me the answer instead my friend, because up to this moment, I fall flat finding it.

Casper & You: And Wafaa wrote

http://wafitta.blogspot.com/

And Wafaa wrote

You are the voice that provoked my stillness in its depths. I was staggered by your humanity. You have released me from being so caught up inside myself. While my turmoil overshadowed my thinking, your kindness sneaked in and eclipsed my anguish. Despite the scars that life has handed you over, you refuse but to keep on giving. Although you know that wounds embeded in you are yet to heal, you continue writing new aspirations on the wind, with a growing hope they be blown and rooted in a vigorous nation. Notwithstanding the conflicts overrunning your mind, you able to paint colors on a blackened base. You faced down the demons of your suffering to work for a greater good. With a spirit as yours, it is worth peering beyond one's own being. You have taught me the meaning of persistence and the blessing of giving. You have become an inspiration to me, as I believe you are for many others. You are so beautiful to exist in a blind world like ours. Looking up to you is of my supreme ambitions. Your exquisiteness blossoms hope in the vicinity of despair. Keep on shining, for the beam you have ignited is never to be quenched and your brightness will find the way to set the darkness erected on life to light.

And Lamiss wrote

Childhood is a package of morals- twisted or straight. Religious education and stories, school education, self esteem studies, complex psychological growth full of hesitation, opinion and decision, suppression, etc…all lead to form what we call character. During youth, such elements are put into action and are enhanced with time; in addition, swinging confidence enriches lacking the ability to decide or being afraid of stepping further, as if one does not have the right to. And who the hell decides what my rights are? My society, my family, who?

Now as a grown up, I-with widely open eyes- raise a lot of questions in a new society and culture in an attempt to find myself.

As for the society, it is titled by: “keep your morals to portrait and seek the power to keep on growing”. This what makes one respected. The power is the scale. By default, I love knowledge and studying. To people and society, this is the power even though my scale is morals. With a childhood package as mine, I still can’t decide. I feel I have to do what they want before doing what I want. So with my passion to knowledge, I find myself connecting both: using my educational status and family pushes to what they want, to finally build my shield and achieve my own goals.

Eventually, everything seems to work in harmony, even though it may take a life time. It turns out that things always happen for a good reason and what is impossible in the present become definite in the future.

Another facebook episode

It’s some hours before lunch, she has just woken up. The kettle is speeding up the electricity meter and the cigarette is glowing. She adds some of her “First Price”* coffee in the mug and let the boiling water force the powder to change its mood. (I don’t have anything against First Price products; on the contrary, they have a good variety there).

“Gosh, I am stressed, I haven’t been on facebook for hours now and I am definitely missing a lot”.

Her careless soul and big bum give the chair a hard time and she thanks Bill Gates for making her life easier. Gates is cool, but he is not as popular as Zuckerberg. Mark is the man. Facebook is the new heaven.

Her best friend has made a strong statement on her wall, so our friend pushes the like button before she even reads and then she adds:

“I am proud of myself, getting on well with my diet”

“Congrats (like)”

“I ate a whole pizza with whole wheat bun, rich toppings and a glass of DIET coke”

“Good on ya, I should start mine soon” our friend replies and keep in mind that all is happening on the public wall.

“You’ll manage, I think. What are your plans for the weekend?”

“Big ones, getting drunk”

“Like”

It might sound shallow to read such a story, but it is an example of what many who are doing nothing other than infecting the way we now communicate. It is unfair to generalize; however, the majority thinks that mainstream is the solution.

There are ways in posting comments and updating the status on facebook. It is cooler if we achieve that by using iPhones and the fruit of that is proudly shown”sent via facebook for iPhone”. The other fact is having more that 500 friends and we communicate with only few of them. We meet someone on the net, in a pub, on the bus or in bed and we become facebook buddies.

Facebook has turned the communication situation upside down. We can’t ignore the fact that it is a platform where we express many of our frustrations, support, love and hate, but some are turning it to a measurement for our faith like “press like if you like Jesus” or ”join the group if you are an atheist” etc. If you are not a member of this giant network then you are doomed.

Nevertheless, doesn’t the “like” button govern no matter how bad things are? It reminds us of the “red green coalition “that’s been ruling Norway for some years despite the majority's loathing…

I have had that love/hate relationship to facebook. I admire it and I hate it. To commit a social suicide by deactivating the account could be a solution, but I will always remember my really true friends whom I cherish deeply.

*First price: a low range with a variety of affordable alternative.

Keep the promise

The stoning

It is interesting how the Ultimate power works when it needs to deliver a message. Yesterday, when checking Amnesty's web page, I decided to be a member. It is not only about paying the annual fee, but it is about acting. It is about shouting for the sake of human rights until the voices wither. It is about fighting for justice even if it will shed blood.

It is interesting how yesterday I was reading about the stoning of Iranian Sakineh Mohammadi Ashtiani whose case has shaken the world showing the primitiveness of the Mullah regime. A rotten system overdosed with religious testosterone.

Today, I watched "The stoning of Suraya M", a movie, based on a real story, talks about the evil cooperation of male savages accusing of adultery an innocent mother of four. I nearly decided not to continue watching, blame it on nerves, but I did and a heavy load of silence paralyzed my ability to forget.

I do not know how to act, maybe a prayer will be heard or another will give me creative ideas. I will do what it takes to share my voice with those heroes shouting from above the tower of justice .

For those who haven't watched the movie yet, please do and tell me what you feel.

When she showers her voice on my soul, I fly.

When she tells me the world is wonderful, I wonder.

The strings of her instrument tickle my skin. She’s asking if I remember her when we walked in those fields. I can still feel the west wind touches my cheeks.

Sing to me, I want my troubles to melt away like lemon drops. Keep me imprisoned behind your words, your harmony, in your memory.

Songbird, chant for me and if I fall catch me. Let me shake your hand and say time might heal my broken pride.

Here I am, I see no true colors, but I’m eager to shout, swing and take off my stained cloth. I don’t know where the time goes, when we are leaving- Perhaps our seeds will bloom and the scene will be great, but you will always inspire me.

Cassidy, thanks for inspiring me, Eva, sing high

Berlin, the city that never sleeps

Berlin, the city that masters perfection, I fell in love with it.

I never expected to experience the beauty of every single spot that I looked at. I might exaggerate, but I really saw beauty.

Our hotel was located in the nice area Friedrichstraße. We arrived there earlier than expected due to the punctuality of Norwegian air (sarcastically the trip was estimated to be one and a half hours, but we were at the airport half an hour earlier).

Hotel Melia is a 4 stars hotel which we got for the price of 3 star hotels since we booked before Easter. It is highly recommended :-)

I have to admit that travelling with my best German friend Per made things awesome. We travelled to Barcelona last year and I didn’t have to worry about any maps to follow due to my lack of sense of directions. In Berlin things were the same, a German perfectionist leading a messy Lebanese. He was well prepared with plan to achieve, i.e. to show me around.

Every single place or monument we visited left the impression. The TV tower, the cathedral, the parliament (Reichstag), Sony center, Madame Tussauds and many more, made our cameras work hard. Perhaps one of the touchiest places was the Jewish museum and the Holocaust monument that made me think of the cruelty that attacked the peaceful humanity and still acting wild in our days.

Night life was fabulous, we enjoyed every single evening, we met folks from Finland and Spain. Turkka, the Finnish dude, suggested that we head to the biggest discotheque in Europe, there we waited and waited in what I called a UN cue. Hundreds of people from different nationalities have heard about that famous place that opens at 6pm and closes around noon day after…I have to say that we gave up in the end, took a taxi disappeared.

There is much to talk about, but I highly recommend Berlin and I will definitely go back again

And God created friends

You are my dearest friend, my wish that grew up in life’s womb. I was blessed the day I had you. I admired you, but you weren’t the chosen.

You led me to perfection and I knew you weren’t perfect, neither was I buddy.

You carried my secret, and you knew it would be my heavy cross. Together we walked on the way, you helped me through darkness, and I trusted you.

Time scattered us, the wind blew our seeds away. In a new horizon I’ve settled down.

You stayed there, a part of my past, a load that I carried to my present. I left my nest on that cedar tree the time when earth stopped moving. A still picture I could say, a world where people stopped moving, stopped growing old, but still there as I left them.

You are there and I can feel your power, let me tell you how much I miss you. Even if you might have shaved away my secret, I will never destroy my memory of you, not even your temple. I still love you and I will forever admire you my friend, my dearest friend.

Good bye or bye for good?

Have you ever looked at these two words,Good and Bye? I can't see them match together. To me, there are no good byes. I am not trying to be a drama here but it really makes me sad every time I say it to somone. Uff how weird, Today I told my friends at church that my life is a train station. People pass my life journeying on a train. People stop there, take breaks, and enjoy their stay. Some wait for the train of life, time will take them again, they leave with no return.Some promise to come back and they do, others promise but they don't. But all are special and all leave the meant impression.
The station is still there, gets older day by day. Why is it there? I don't know, but I know it is staying until the Great engineer decides to take it away . It will not forget any of this life's passengers until the time comes and we may meet again.