The Day I Went Fishing

When I went fishing, in the middle of the sea, I could see no creature on the blue crispy carpet that extended as far as my sigh could distinguish, after the boat stopped its engine, I heard nothing. Silence- my friend- is a bless, and a horror as well. Swaying and dancing in the middle of nowhere is not the best feeling in the world, but at some times one feels it is a need to quit all the noise in the world, and to shun seeing more human faces. Very far from the boat, I saw a long stretch of tiny foggy houses and buildings. At other times, silence is threatening, when, you feel weightless, not to say insignificant. I felt so, that day. I was in a world, where creatures, which are just like us, yet maybe smaller, and smarter, live.

Do we really need the world to be quiet? Or we need to shut up a little and then go on again? I am not sure. But, like the sea, calm and tranquil when wind is easy. Yet, it is angry and devastating when wind rages. Why is our wind always raging?


I think we should ask the wind to have mercy up on us, really we should do this, very soon...

http://lizardbrain.files.wordpress.com/2007/01/20070127_038a.jpeg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Have you ever tried to live like the sea?

Some live like birds, some like animals and some like plants, but have you ever tried to live like the sea?

Like birds, some humans have wings, a variety of kinds of birds, robust hawks, vicious eagles, magnificent flamencos, loud parrots, sensual pigeons and silly penguins. To my surprise I found out that the same theory applies to animals, humans are exactly like the different species of animals, glorious lions, huge elephants, sly snakes, wicked hyenas and stupid monkeys. Have you ever thought about it? Even plants, same as humans, differ, harmful cactuses, ambitious palms, fruitful trees and graceful flowers. It is unbelievable to notice these similarities, for me.

Have you ever tried to be like the sea? Silent, but when it is furious nothing can stop it. When it is passionate, you find ships swaying lightly, lights drawing pictures of love and romance on its surface. And when it is cheerful, you see it dancing, with waves celebrating the event splashing water everywhere; it shapes its world. Still, when depressed, you see the sea sleek, calm, motionless and smooth, as if dead...

Have you ever tried to be like the sea?

Moran Thomas The Angry Sea

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

That is why we kill wild animals

Have you ever seen an angry Human being?

I did too. But, I never thought I will talk about it, because I -like any animal- get angry. As a poor observer, I look at The Angry being. When one is angry you see one's real carefully veiled animal, the one we hide all the time and try to cover it with one's joyful friendly attitude or strict formal demeanor. Look at an angry being, you will see what you never expected or explored before in a human being.

You see a scarlet face, as if blood boils and the whole body is about to explode violently splattering blood everywhere. Swiftly, everything progresses, sound raises, heart beats furiously like a raging sea, eyes quiver like a building during an earthquake, sounds blow from one’s mouth like gunshots. A hidden power creeps into the distressed body fueling it to push, bunch and hurt. You will be startled when you witness a peaceful human turns into a mad animal, a wild dog, a disgusting hyena.

Did you ever see an Angry Human Being? If you do, look at one closely, observe one's movements, features, actions, only then, you will know why humans hunt wild animals…

http://www.samitabasu.com/images/Angry-Man.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Smells

I am sure -by now- that clothes can amend looks, that might be as pleasant, but they can never cover faults and deformities in one's personality. I am guiltily not proud to have a nose that can detect humans' hideousness. It is a shame. I swear I can smell envy, even if you do not believe me, I smelt it many times before, it smells like rotten fruit. Hate -I know- smells like dead animals, not just any dead being, just deceased animals. You know, a dead animal differs completely from any dead being, yet they are all dead, all have vanished, all smell and all are there no more. Anger has a strange odor, it's like smoke, a very thick smell. But, to smell these flaws, they require a good nose and an alert mind. You might find it weird or amusing, but I find it unpleasant, for when I walk among a crowd, I feel attacked by these smells, they even get stronger as if in rivalry with each other, at these moments, I look around sharply, yet I never witness anyone sharing my repugnant feeling, no one, but wretched cats and street-dogs.

I might certainly be dead wrong, but I am sure these smells need a good nose and an alert mind...

http://vultus.stblogs.org/centre04.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Hating one's life

Me: I hate her Zarn. I hate life. I hate myself.


Zarn: I hate you too.


Me: Do you? I thought you are my loyal friend?


Zarn: No, I am not your friend. I hate you.


Me: Even you Zarn. I am shocked. I do not want to live this life. I want to die. Do you really hate me?


Zarn: How can I befriend someone who does not value himself!


Silence


Zarn: Have you ever seen a cat that has its back crushed under car wheels pushing its squeezed body by its front legs looking for food?


Me: UGH. What an ugly image. Yes, I once did.


Zarn: I respect this cat more than someone who hates himself...

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

World has turned into a jungle. Oh, no I used the wrong image.

World has turned into a jungle. Oh, no I used the wrong image.

In a jungle deers are not always fighting for grass. Birds do not destroy others' nests to prove they can do so. Flowers and trees grow everywhere in the jungle not within the lion's den only. Monkeys shower tigers with rocks fearlessly. They are not killed for making fun of these monsters.

Spiders build their homes wherever and whenever they want. They never wait for rats to dig the ground for them, or ants to plan their life for them. Even ravens have a life in the forest, they are not persecuted because of their hoarse voice. Bulls fight with each other, yet when a predator approaches, the herd run like one body regardless of their internal conflicts. Air in the jungle is wide open for all kinds of birds. It is not dominated by eagles. You never witness eagles soaring all the time, you always see birds of various colors and kinds conquering the free sky recklessly. Lions and Eagles maintain their superiority, yet all animals have a life. They are not oppressed. Snakes are not killed for being venomous or dangerous. In a Jungle, even ants have their community. They are significant. Every species has its role.

Never say that the world has become a jungle. Never compare between sane animals and insane humans. Have you ever seen animals in a killing-frenzy? Humans have seen this twice in their short history. See, never say that the world has become a jungle.

http://www.desktoprating.com/wallpapers/nature-wallpapers-pictures/fog-forest-wallpaper.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

And Love !

Me: I loved her.

Zarn: When?

Me: What? I cannot remember. Maybe when I first saw her. Love at the first sight.

Zarn: When?

Me: Hmm. Well two weeks ago. It was on a Sunday. I was ...

Zarn: [Interrupted] When?

Me: Cannot you hear me? I said on a Sunday. It was about 11:00 AM

Zarn: It took you two weeks to realize that you do love her. Will you say so after two more weeks or after two years!

Me: I will always love her.

Zarn: Will you love her more than your children?

Me: [Hesitant] It is different. I will love them both.

Zarn: Mother and father?

Me: [Puzzled] I will love them too.

Zarn: Yourself?

Me: I love me as well.

Zarn: That is a big load of love to give, I wish you can deal with it. I have once known about a woman who has died giving birth to a dead child...







http://bristollifedrawing.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/peri-bristol-life-drawing-class-2.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

How can a race be that perfect?

I believe Angels are ... Well. Maybe I do not believe in Angels. Can a whole race be always good, always pure, always "complete". I never knew about an angel who once in its life behaved recklessly or even sinned. Why? "Because they are angels" that is what I get. My crippled mind never comprehend this fact, that a race is that faultless. They might be like humans; impressive façades. Can a race be that flawless?

I am not "dissing" Angels or any one? But, this is just a thought. Angels are good, devils are bad, Humans are neither good nor bad, aren't these stereotypes funny? I hate it when someone describes a little child or a beautiful girl as an angel. Have you ever seen one yourself? "Yes, heard about them, read about them" OK as you like, but think about it more you will find it dubious -or may for me only. It is striking how quickly can one's mind jump to conclusions.

A Chinese philosopher who is called Lao Tzu was once walking with a friend of his down a desert road and suddenly, they saw a skull. His friend expressed his pity about the dead skull. Lao Tzu retorted "How do you know it's bad to be dead?"

How can a race be that perfect?

http://jaymeemerald.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/angel-of-the-morning.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Looks and faces make me think

Looks and faces make me think.

Looks that are as sharp as bows ready for war, or maybe bows that are not determind to fight but still they try to fool other worriars. I saw them fill the streets like posters glued to the the dingy walls. Curious, hesitent, fearful, daring. Looks that are ready to be accompanied by words at some cases and by silence at other. Ready to criticize and ready to meet any invading glance.

I think a lot about these looks and faces, and never cease to do. I look at these looks that may depress one and may make another one feel superior.

An Old man looking at young faces that are full of recklessness and unexpectedness with a tearful now-red eyes. A young girl slyly looking at handsome boys while bypassing their hungry deprived perverted looks. A woman -obviously mother- weightened by burdens helplessly concealing her fatigued eyes. A man observing the streets mindlessly shooting aimless arrows at random faces with no purpose - no purpose at all.

Wisdom is gone and life is still there, have you seen the dirty trees? Have you seen tiny rocks and ants? I have seen all of these, but I still have not seen everything on the same streets that I walk down every single day. Every day I detect plenty of new things that challenge my wondering mind, plenty of looks, plenty of phenomenans, plenty of scenes...

Yet still, looks and faces make me think.






http://www.iamshotaro.com/images/wondering.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Women can either Marry, or become Great Women

"Women can either Marry, or become Great Women"

This statement can easily put an eluded woman to rage. A line that can stoop at their regular believes that are by now a full grown mind. But before surrendering to the perplexing common reaction, and before jumping to conclusions, read my whispers through this note.

How many married women made history? Ok, ok, that was not a good start. I will start as calm as a soft breeze. A girl is born in majestic hopes of a sacred -not from the religious point of view but from the traditional Middle-Eastern view- matrimony that fill the hospital's air. Every cheering face that meet with the round-faced-piece-of-precious-meat perceive nothing but a grown girl accompanied by a man who can "care for her".

That introduction is also a bit slow-paced. Let me start over again; this time with concrete views. Man -GENERAL RULE AND I MEAN ALL MEN. YES I AM GENERALISING- in all societies, all places, all countries, all races and all planets -I believe- is and will be as dominating in his views as a king who speaks about being just and from-the-people. History like a flood has successfully wiped all traces of equality. Of course -like pulling ancient monuments out of oceans- some speckles of equality come to light throughout the last decade –and still women congratulate themselves with them- but they are never completely equal. Maybe, as some will succumb to the rusty perception which is that women are not like man physically. Well, bravo, they are not. But, what if they are equal mentally? Why does one still find some actions "improper" if done by women? Enough fooling ourselves!

I tried by all means to be as serene as a calm passer by who tries to explain the directions. I have always known that men are not ever going to shake off that luxury of inequality from their minds and their behavior. But, what I never knew is that many women refuse to have their "irresponsible" freedom.

Man has the seeds of inequality in his mind why do women water them, why?





http://mountcope.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/effects_of_abuse_.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Words ...

Have You Ever Noticed words clearly?

Cold

Can you feel this word? I can. I feel it aching. Gnowing at my bones, at my loneliness, at my dreams, at my world.

Old

Can you feel this too? I can. I can see it, but can't see me old. I can't visualize me bent, with white hair and no teeth, no hope, no dreams, no world, but Death

Death

Can you feel this word as well? I can...


http://www.jiscdigitalmedia.ac.uk/images/flickr-words.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Conversations With Zarn

SILENCE

Me: What is life?

Zarn: What life? What made you think you are living?

Me: Life is trees, animals and humans. That is life.

Zarn: What life?

Me: My life...

Zarn: What life?

Me: I am alive. I breath, eat and drink. Don't you know anything about life?

Zarn: What life?

Me: Why are you repeating your words?

Zarn: Because that is life. Repeatition.

Me: We are all alive. Look at our bodies. They are a drawing.

Zarn: Pyramids are a majestic drawing as well, does that mean that Pyramids are alive?

Me: I am confused...

Zarn: That is exactly what life is...

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Lightning

All fade in a thunderstruck. I have seen life in that heavy electric bold. All in one strike, all in one shot. Life, I realized, is like a thunder bolt.

Ideas come to me in a lightning, a sudden shock that lasts for seconds and then they disappear quietly. I sense them approaching then feel them penetrating my mind. They come in vague forms, and they are sometimes uncensored, untouched and up normal. These are never conquered or blocked. Have you ever succeeded in blocking an idea or a thought? If you can, I can assure you that you can stop lightening.

The problem is that the heaviest thunder can never light the dark forest for long. I can easily press fast forward while watching a 2 hour movie on my PC. What if life is a 70 or 80 year movie? But, what happens when I press fast forward for 1 Billion humans 70 or 80 year movies at the same time? There lives will seem like various lightnings that strike at the same time in a wild dark forest. The forest will shine massively I am sure, but after seconds it will be back to darkness.


But, what can last long enough to shine the wild forest forever?



http://www.crystalinks.com/lightningsunset.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Can we stop the wind?

If we all stood in a row from east to west, as wide as ocean and as high as the pyramids, and as huge as mountains, will be able to stop the wind?

If yes, can our bodies bear the merciless wind? My mind encounters a much more hidden but slightly apparent question, will we tolerate each other's smell? Won't we feel squeezed with a collective way of thinking and no identity at all? How long will we stay that way? When will we collapse?

If no, will we lose faith in being a connected body hard enough to block the wind? Will we lose faith in everything? Will we all be crushed by the atrocious wind?

If we all stood in a row from east to west, as wide as ocean and as high as the pyramids, and as huge as mountains, will be able to stop the wind?





http://www.treehugger.com/denmark-wind-turbines-080903.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

A Day

I cannot call my past or present or future happy, or even sad. You as well, must not do that-I think. I believe happiness and sadness are moments not days. One can enjoy thousand happy moments in a day that is full of misery and tears. I once laughed at a funeral and cried at a wedding. It is not a queer fact to see a smile in the worst day, or to see a flower in the atrocious wind, or an empty seat in a crowded train, or heart in a distasteful body. It is unfair to see the day as a whole treading over the various emotions that one has felt during the day.


A day is a life of its own, if you really think about it...


http://homepage.mac.com/skingsley/xemaybe/C1498175286/E20060524113251/Media/raining.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Blindness

Hold both hands and swear like I do. We are humans and animals too ...


Zarn: It is not darkness that makes people not see. It is the excessive light. Truth is everywhere but unfortunately we are either blind or we prefer not to look.

Me: I am not blind. I see truth. I feel that I have touched a lot of things.

Zarn: Only the blind uses his hand to find his way.

Me: I am not blind.

Zarn: I once said so...


(Zarn is a fictitious character from an uncompleted novel that I have written long ago)


http://www.artoftheprint.com/jpegimages/wise_william_thebutterfly.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Rain -I think- is the tears of the world.

Rain -I think- is the tears of the world.

Thunder -I think- is its groans...


Yesterday, I felt depressed when I saw people running from "Its" tears. Running vehemently as if it hurts us to watch it crying. I stood for some time to see cars moving harshly over the remnant of the tears that filled the patient street. Tears that filled the world. Full of pain accompanied by anger and groans. But, I saw people running as if the drops of water were drops of coal falling from hell. What hell? Have they ever seen it? But, they saw the tears and ran from them. It kept raining. I bent and tasted the water, it was salty. Exactly like our tears. Human tears.

Some tears do not affect us, so never pretend that we Humans do care. Never do that. It is an illusion.

http://fireflyforest.net/images/firefly/2005/August/rain-on-table-480.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Hope

24th Feb 09


With hope we lived and with a smile we cried, who dared to tell him, that he was about to die ...






http://fineartamerica.com/images-medium/lonely-chair-g3393.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

When the Light Dies out...

Light. What will happen if all of a sudden the light that shines the world dies out? With no electricity to help or even batteries or anything, what will happen?

As to myself, I no longer fear darkness, but do animals understand this. Some animals wait for darkness in order to strike or hunt, and some -like us- will just hide waiting impatiently for the dimness to come to an end. I might not fear this dark-like-death atmosphere but lots of naive people -they will be called so- will panic. I can see them all fearful and uncertain. I can see them clearly. The world will become as dark as if the world in locked in a closed box. People may become more aggressive and more impatient. They might become intolerant, anxious and vehement. It is darkness that will be the reason for all this. Darkness that will make them feel their blindness and inability to be in control. This unexpected-by-them behavior will not be out of fear in general, but it will be out of the fear of the unknown. "What will happen next?" they will wonder, but they will receive no answer.

Some will swear they know the reason of all this, and some will be lured by their wisdom. Some will swear they can light all the world, and some will believe them. Some will just wait; wait for it to end...

Someone will take the initiative and light a match. This human will be called a god or a fool. Only then, they will be able to judge that initiator. Everyone will be able to see and inspect the exposed body. They will say this one is tall, thin or may be beautiful or ugly or a scientist or an artist. The match will eat through the fragile peace of wood until it burns this one's shivering hand. Then, one will also be called a fool or a fake artist or a crazy magician. In fact, they will also gossip about this "bastard's" faults and disabilities. "The bogus scientist is now stripped" they will triumphantly say to each other in the dark. No one will ever dare to light a match afterwards. It will only be darkness and loud whispers and humans and animals fighting...

In a world of darkness, no one is judged, only those who light a fire are seen, but they will hurt themselves. It is darkness that will prevail, darkness, the toughest force...

http://the-hidden-attic.com/sequential/darkness/mygirls.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Memories

Like the sweet taste, it lasts for a minute or two. Like that great taste that you feel blessed to experience. These are memories.


Once you fully digest that sweet taste or add a different one, you erase the remnant of that sticky distinguished aroma. You may try to extend the pleasure by chewing and chewing but chewing only makes food smashed more and more so that it disappears easily. Nothing is going to last. These are memories


Everyone tries to capture them; photos are a great way but who can turn the clock back? and who is ignorently silly enough to want to turn the clock back? I think some are ready to kill to turn the clock back, maybe I am the one who is "ignorently silly". Fantastic aren't they, these things that are called Memories? No matter good or bad, I believe memories are past, they are only made to be written and kept, never to be re-lived or cried over. Some are obsessed by collecting these bits and pieces, but remembering and trying to live these smashed past is like collecting broken glasses, yes, you collect some of them but you sacrifice cutting your fingers. Old books, old diaries, dead ancestors, works of art, statues, castles, laughs, moments, and pictures, these are memories...


We are humans. We cry when we lose friends. We are humans. We kill. We smile when a kid smiles. We hate. We sing. We swear. We flirt. We rape and get raped. yes, we are humans. Why should our past be as beautiful as our dreams? Yes, we miss those days when we were younger, but when we were younger we knew we were going to grow up and we could have never done anything to stop that, we are humans. My advice is, burn the house you move from. Kill those snakes of the past that will crawl and squeeze your brain from time to time, they will make you cry, they will make you sick. Kill these snakes, for those are memories.


They are made to be kept, but never recalled, for those are dangerous, for those are memories...

http://www.doublecrossed.ca/images/20051005011532_dxd_brokglass.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

The Day I Saw the White Giant

Stunning, isn't it that thing that is called sight? We never respect that gift until we wake up with red-eye or a blurry vision. But sight is a burden that is not endured by all those who can "see". I never was sure about this except when I looked at It that day.

It was a ship, that I always saw as "a ship" but that day it was different. It was a piece of a tree ruthlessly cut a long time and a piece of metal melt long time ago connected by man's viciously smart mind. I saw it a giant fish killer. Fish, who are like any other species, except that they are weaker. They are like humans, birds and animals, but as some reckless "human" explained -justifying killing- that only the strong survives. "It is just a ship." I exclaimed, but the white giant gazed at me arrogantly sailing calmly assured that those who see it as a massive killing machine -those who really "see"- were few. Thus, it was as proud as ever and blind people were as blind as ever. I thought about and I found that we indifferently eat fish, animals and birds, and birds eat worms, worms eat poor leaves, trees feed on water, water feed humans. What an abominable cycle.

Some call this evil sight, because those who see life in this way see humans' hideous deeds only, but what if we humans are in face hideous. It is that ship that we made that can fire rockets to kill humans. It can kill fish; lots of fish. A killing machine that is one of many products of evil minds.

It is not light that we miss, it is sight, real sight...




http://www.alaskafishing411.com/alaska%20cruise%20fishing%20ship.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Eleven minutes of observing the clock ...

Eleven. Only then I notice the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. Sluggishly it moves but how come it is so accurate? I look at it moving peacefully. Very Peacefully no worries at all. Tick. Tick. Ticks are firm, consistent and never faulty. How amazing the work of mind is! Ten. I decide to follow it for eleven minutes. Maybe I can learn something about life. It is a shame that it never misses its path, man-made path. Tick. Tick. But, our path in life is not Man-made -I think. Why do we miss ... Nine. Did you notice it? Two minutes have passed. They have passed already. Time is a fascinating mind-controlling tool. Tick. Tick. How can one think when one is followed by time? Time, as firm as mountains as controlling as shackles. Eight. Smoothly it moves. Very accurate, damn, how can anything be so accurate? Even our minds are not that accurate - I think. What if I put my finger before its path? It will stop for sure, but, what will happen then? It will be back again moving. Seven. Steadily it moves. Very steady and provoking moves. I am curious, who made you? and why are you so so so so surprising? Six. It is a tool. It is a machine. I start consoling myself. It cannot be that marvelous. At least it cannot see. Yes, it cannot see. "Hey, can you see me?" Tick. Tick. Tick. I think I am not sure if it cannot see by now. Its numbers are staring, threateningly. With a punctual movement like heartbeats. Four. Oh, I missed a minute. And a sound too. I am starting to re-organize my thoughts. What if the clock is nothing but a human, but more punctual? No Some people are punctual as well. Time. Time. I think it is an angry runner. Always running furiously not noticing that there are foolish people who have their lives depending on it. Its ticks define some aspects of our live. One. I missed another minute. See, it is even fooling me. Time is tricky.. Time. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Minutes and seconds -I am sure- constrain creativity...



http://msnbcmedia3.msn.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/070112/070112_doomsdayClock_hmed_5p.widec.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

My Shadow

Have you ever thought about it. Your shadow is your most faithful friend and the most devoted follower you have. It is there now. Look at it. Stare at it. Touch it and yet faithfully it will touch you back. Even when it is tired of following you all day long doing the silly things -I admit- we do, it never stops. It never quits. It never deserts you. Some days I become very angry to the point that I curse it, but -as always- it looks back as silent as a good friend; a great friend.

Have you ever had a friend who is your shadow? No, one "might be" but not like your shadow, because it is the most faithful friend ever. But, some days I get pissed and I scream "TALK. Why are you always silent?" Yet, my Shadow never replies. I even feel followed. You know sometimes you hate it when some one is always monitoring you, even your shadow, even your friend. But as faithful as ever it is always silent. You even step on it but your shadow is a friend who never complains.

One day I trusted it but when lights went out, it was no longer there. It abandoned me. I screamed "EVEN YOU?". I was appalled. Even my shadow can abandon me...

Only then, in the skies of dark clouds, in the depth of nothingness, when I was abandoned even by my shadow, I touched my body calmly and smiled, I knew it I still exist, I am still there, I am my best friend.





http://www.quicksprout.com/images/shadowstandin.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Trash Collectors

They come at night, trash collectors. Yes, they do. This ensures them that they are unheard, unseen and uninterrupted by the people. Common people, who wake up early to go to work and return home at about 3 or 4 they have their dinner, nap, watch TV, phone calls, and sleep early to wake up early to go to work again.

When I think about it, I see this an effective way to deal with the trash. Maybe those people never think about the view of society, but who knows what alternative they have. If they saw it as inappropriate, well, it is still a job. What if these things are done by machines? Why do "Humans" collect other "Humans'" trash?

Their looks are depressing and inspiring as well. They are almost always looking down, they see what busy us never witness. They patiently scrutinize the road, land, asphalt, and park that we walk across or sit at indifferently. I believe they see things better than we do or will ever will. They see life in the dingy tiny pieces of handkerchiefs, empty packets, remnants of bread leafs, brownish-yellow-stepped-on leaves, twisted cans and used-to-be-important crumbled papers. We never notice these things because once we exploit a thing it becomes no longer important to us. We lose interest in it. It turns into past . We humans prefer to neglect our past, or to be specific the no-longer-important incidents in our past. Even if they are still there smashed and fractured. We are exploiters of purity and life as well, I believe. Only trash collectors see it. They see it all. But, to be accurate -unfortunately- even them, sometimes, they fail to see it. Even when you do not have a broom and a box you can be a trash collector, I am trying to be one...

We only take the new unexploited pieces of life, exploit them and they are no longer significant in our life...

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2248/2266926019_6a6e965606.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

Solitude

I think it not a mere word. It is a life of its own. Some love to lead there life abiding by its rules although it may seem absurd to the outsider, but we never understand everything. Solitude is much more than a person who sits alone and wonder. One lives in a dream all night and feels that this dream is a world with all its characteristics; roles and players and everything. In solitude, one can choose his own place. settings and characters. Only when acquainted with something, this something leads the world of one's solitude and it becomes the Big Brother. It keeps going again and again showing itself in every feature and manner. Solitude is a world, I am sure.




It is desperate people's only friend, the fearful worst enemy and the self-confidant's biggest supporter. I see Nothing when I am alone -with a capital N. I see things clearly. I believe when one is alone one is able to see things clearly. One is able to watch everything around him/her.




It is a bless for a wanderer and a nightmare for a coward...





http://www.multifoto.dk/linda/beach/solitude.jpg

© Ahmad Magdy - 2009

First Day Blog .. The Day it was born

I thought it was a good idea writing a blog as I am almost, always online. This blog is my world now and everyone of My Friends is welcome to take a peek at my World. . .

Search for Humans:

I look deep in their faces. Humans you know. Like me and you I think. I love looking at people which is kind of weird and sometimes I find a look back at me in anger and suspicion. We are suspicious. Arabs are suspicious. Humans are suspicious. I know it is not fair to judge but ...

I told my wise me 'tell me about life'. She answered 'life? Life is us'...

Us was always a source of amazment Us .. They told US. WE think. WE believe. But when I gave it more thought well yes we are life. We are the ocean, the sea and the birds. All are there. All al LIFE. Isnt it queer! it is.

You know I believe that eyes are not the only ID of the person. Features are tales. Detailed tales.. I can read them and I love to trace the route of life in them. They are the signiture of time and the lines of adventures. I see incidents in them. Days. months. accidents, quarrels, debates, wails, laughs, anger, giggles I swear I meticulously scrutinize all these tales. I feel it is life. We are life...

When you look at a person you think is wicked. Spend another moment looking at his/her eyes and another and another.

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© Ahmad Magdy - 2009