31.3.07

of my psychosomatic dream.

woke up around dawn this morning, dont remember why—might've been duty calling or thirst. anyway i go back to bed and live one of the most deranging real-like dreams ever.
i usually can awake myself from freaky moments, but this time i was completely immersed in it, thinking it was true...
it starts with an image of reality; i am (still) watching my tv that notoriously stays on all night long. a spectre takes shape in front of it, slowly, from a kind of see-through mist to a clearer suggestion of full limbs into a physical solid form of an upper body i don't recall a full body... i'm seeing it from the back, the figure turns suddenly towards me, screaming, it looks like an asian/japanese woman with an eery manga like face, disfigured by anger and rage. the spectre runs towards me, i am still lying in bed, and starts stabbing me in the chest; each stab is more and more real, i actually feel pain and incredible pressure on the chest. i want to scream and free myself, and as always can't. feeling my body completely trapped in paralysis, while in my head i'm climbing up the walls. i am desperately trying to scream but am completely dumb. i also remember wanting to call my dad's name while usually, in circumstances like these, i call out for my mother's. at that moment, i remember feeling that there's no point in fighting it, and that i should better give up, it is then that the angry spectre disappears.. i actually think am dying. i feel another presence next to my bed, in the same misty form as the angry jap bitch. strangely, i am in deep belief that it is my brother. the misty form starts materializing from the hand, to the upper arm, without really fully taking shape. i reach for the hand, and it is feeling real; it is my brother's hand, skinny but strong with its characteristic protruding veins... it feels so real, i am actually holding his hand... and then i wake up, heart beating erratically, sweaty, alone in my room, the history of rock'n roll lightening up the room.

28.3.07

about politics on facebook.

There's an ongoing debate on facebook whether Palestine is a country or not; and reason for this, is because really the debate is whether Palestine should figure in the Country listing in Facebook. The debate led to another on whether Kurdistan should be added as a country on facebook, obviously.
An unexpected turn of events, from a purely social/socialite (la2 7akkeh w nassnasseh) site to one with deep (haha) insights on geopolitical debate.

27.3.07

seriously...

lady, what were you thinking?

22.3.07

about inland empire.

yesterday went to watch the latest David Lynch. hence the pondering.
and i slept in the middle of the movie.
but from the half i saw, am willing to watch it again. although me sleeping in it would raise the obvious question whether it was boring or not; i would say it wasn't. guess i was tired.
his camera work, editing, film quality is gr8. i personnally loved it. he seemed to be having loads of fun with it. the sound was gr8.
i think i'll watch it again.
although most of which who went out of the movies yesterday night, were not willing to go thru it again—coz the usual level of creepiness and story entaglements were slightly (to say the least) enhanced.
no no. definitely watchable.
one little detail though, i was surprised that some of us expected some moments/details of the movie... which could be quite disappointing if you really think about it...

7.3.07

my post-war tension tourism idea was not so far off.

info sms of the day!


is this taking advantage of the situation or just a brilliant marketing strategy?
a penny for your thoughts...

1.3.07

ain't this cool?

i just love men/women/men and women holding hands.

(probably some student project spray-painted) around in hamra.

27.2.07

woohoo.

mou and rudz are coming to town!!
and aya is in town now!

woohoo.

26.2.07

about stupid american awards.

anybody else felt that yesterday/this morning's best director award was a pity oscar? as if the academy felt bad on never letting scorcese win any awards knowing that he was nominated more than 6 times—if i'm not mistaken—, and for cornerstones of the american film legacy such as taxi driver (palme d'or, mind u), raging bull, the last tempatation of christ, ...—need i go on?! as if they finally gave him one just to be able to stick him a life achievement award in a few years...
seriously. getting spielberg, lucas and coppola to hand it to him. enno, seriously, did anybody think that anybody else was gonna recive the award after getting those three aligned on stage?! to get all the directors that were of the same "generation"(in the history of film at least) and that beat him to the statue. pity oscar... that sucks.
And, granted, the departed is awesome, but for it to be the film that got him the oscar, the recognition, what da fuck!?!

———
w ba3den, why do all best actor/actress awards have to be given to the ones who had characters that existed in real life. enno, if you want a score an oscar, get a role that is based on a true life story (you stil have to do it well, though; but still half the work is done for you)
It's true that whitaker is a gr8 gr8 actor, but he only got the recognition when he took a role based on a real human being. helen mirren for the queen. Phoenix and witherspoon for walk the line. roberts for erin brockovich. theron for monster. swank for boys dont cry. smith for ali. kidman for the hours when she played virginia woolf. hoffman for capote. foxx for ray. halle berry also for monster's ball, no?!. anyway, anybody seeing a pattern here?!?

———
stupid american awards.
guess i'll always hate'em ever since they let saving private ryan win over the thin red line.
never forgive, zoozoo, and never forget the great offenses of the stupid american academy awards.
stoooppid.

22.2.07

20.2.07

in the bus, on my way to hamra.

we always nag about the fact that we live in a highly consumerist capitalist culture, we moan about the bourgeois, the rich, the unsympathetic elite, the conceited, the vain and the narcissistic egocentric asses... and i realised that if they did not exist what would we do? how would i entertain myself? where would i spend all my energy?
enno, yeah, we do sometimes have things to say about shampoo, car, clothes, ... but we often have more interesting passionate things to say about the bourgeois, the rich, the unsympathetic elite, the conceited, the vain and the narcissistic egocentric asses. we hate them better than we hate shampoo, cars, and clothes. had we been in a world exactly as we wished it would be, we wouldn't have anything i3tiradi to say; no objections, no defiance, no resistance... we would be either contributing to the hegemonic ruling system or drowning in speechlessness for lack of reasons to rebel against any outrageously selfish behaviour.
i guess tonight, before i sleep, i will thank the almighty for the bourgeois, the rich, the unsympathetic elite, the conceited, the vain and the narcissistic egocentric asses; and hey, while i'm at it, why not the michel aouns of the world... or i may be pushing it there... because after all, i love having things to bitch about more than anything else in the whole wide world.

18.2.07

about musketeers.

was trapped in traffic in front of the monroe hotel on thursday morning. nothing new. happens to me everytime i try going to hamra. am sitting in the cab, on the passenger seat next to the driver who has to keep both the radio and his transmitter on at all times; hence creating the unique mix of nerve-wrecking, head-turning pandemonium that would make any sane human being wish he could drop dead and go fry in hell rather than stay in this god-forsaken cab.
and as usual, i try to calm my nerves by first applying the mind numbing psychotherapy trick à deux sous, and allow my eyes to wonder in the cars next to me. it is then that i saw him. i couldn't believe it. it was Athos. u know the wise musketeer, of the 3 musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. U know, the hottest one... the one who is smart, cool, fiery, old and mature... the one with a secret. and u'll never believe it, he was driving a cab! a musketeer in a cab. the situation had been so bad in good old Richelieu's Paris that Athos had to leave the force to come drive a cab in Beirut. can you believe it?
not only were we settling for a lesser beirut, and lesser versions of ourselves, but Athos had chosen to drive a cab. not that i c anything wrong with cabs, and cab drivers. any profession is a good profession—including the oldest the world has ever known, which btw has witnessed the earliest recorded money transaction in the world. layssa min 3amalonn 7akeer wa lakin honak onassonn 7akiroun. and i am no 7akira. but for a musketeer to turn cab driver... it must be really really really bad.

———
later that day, t and i were in a cab driven by a english-speaking foreman turned poker joint owner who was thrown of out of the states for some shady reason. if i remember correctly, i think he also told us that Mr. Nabih B.'s wife used to get trashed in his joint. no musketeers there...

cab drivers... can't live with 'em, cant live without 'em...

6.2.07

something in the air?

today in BBC, it seems the israelis are trying to stir sth up again.
i was hearing people saying that our internal feuds might attract our southern neighbours to meddle in our affairs again... i hope not... we are all tired of everything and bored of it all. i never thought living in beirut would ever amount to a life in hell... but we've been simmering for some time, and we shall be deep-fried in no-time.

———
was watching avalon yesterday... and am ashamed to say it but i fell asleep while watching it...
is really really good... has a very enki bilal feel to it...
will finish it today though... was good...

———
Hos' bday is tomorrow. he's in doobie though.
Ola Chica will be coming this weekend,
and the meeting yesterday went great,
i guess this is gonna be an awesome week.

———
am gonna go fry me an egg
yumyum

23.1.07

we'r on the news again

as usual when i can't work, i blog. i think i'm gonna cook too.

———
so my fellow countrymen (and women) are on the streets; cursing each other in a face-off or throwing stones at each other (like in mazraa for example), and i find myself wishing they could all be lynched down by the army. what ever rocks one's boat...

so we're on the news again. hurray. beirut will be more famous. we can maybe sell a new touristic image of beirut.
open a new tourism attraction.
After eco-tourism, sex-tourism, please join me in welcoming the latest edition of tourism:
the post-war tension tourism.
we offer at very attractive prices, tours to our demolished cities and trips to brainwashing rallies of both pro-government and pro-opposition movements. In addition to our guides to protests, we also give crash courses in throwing stones at opposing fellow countrymen, cursing your opponents effectively and of course, our favorite, burning tyres and trash in the middle of the streets.
Additional classes of moving cars from the middle of the street and throwing them on the curbs are given to people deemed physically fit.


———
on a separate note
Sleiman Frangiye 3am bi nashid bi ta3beer silmeh bala mouwejaha. need i remind him that yesterday he was threatening the people who were going to work today to be careful on their ways back home.
what an ass.

———
Brad Mehldau.
goddamn that man makes magic.

———
i truly am flabbergasted at the strength and power of denial.
Future tv is unbelievable. i think they live on a different planet.
ma ma32ool...
it's mind blowing...
"Mama Mama! 3am bi daffeshneh!"
"7ayete, ma t3abbero, 3mol 7alak ma sheyfo! hek bte2haro! se3eta byezha2 w bi fill..."
nasi7it el noss lira.



———
akrah loubnan wal loubnaniyeen. wa shookran.
am starting to think we were wrong in our Lawein.

12.1.07

it's been a month since i wrote anything substantial.
i can't bring myself to focus.

———
the trip.
it was so cool. so nice. so africa...
it was brilliant. it was fun. it was unforgettable.
it was one of those life changing experiences; not in a grandiose gesture, but on a very small scale. a trip that refreshes your perspective, makes you requestion your priorities, and eventually makes you want to avoid the reality of your life now... it makes you change the life you were leading, turn it into sth else—regardless whether for the better or the worse, change it nonetheless.

i didn't want to come back.
why would i come back?
the situation in the country is horrendous. evb is bummed out of his/her mind. evb is depressed—including the family who has been going through a rough 2 years, which sucks coz my famiy is the bestest funnest family ever. the work am doing am not necessarily happy with, or at least am not satisfied, so why come back?
and the "why come back?" question turns into "why stay?"

and really why stay?

i keep thinking am wasting time here. that i should take the situation as an opportunity to go do sth else somewhere else since evth is sucking here.
+ i don't like what am doing.
i hate waking up in the morning. i dont wanna wake up.
...
i may wanna be on a vacation all my life.
...
i may be a lazy blogger , Bored... but i don't wanna b lazy and i'm not gonna be.
Am gonna take over the world. or visit it. but i will be lazy nomore!!!

———
photos i took with my phone in Africa upon arrival



5.1.07

19.12.06

65 HOURS TIL I LEAVE TO AFRICA!!

woohoo
65... 65... 65... 65...
lalalla lalalla

can't wait!
can't wait!!

65... 65... 65...