Lie awake until the morning
Then sleepwalk back into the world
Time won't ever silence the haunting
The dream won't leave until it's heard

You know we're waiting
Don't keep us waiting for you

We're the ones who chase the sun across the sky
To feel the lasting light,
And we leave it all behind in sacrifice
To feel the lasting light.

You know we're waiting
So don't keep us waiting for you

I wish for so many things....... I need alot more than what you think I do
Hollow inside

The business of who I am and whether I'm good or bad, achieving or not. All that's learned along the way.

It's just a ride.

And we can change it anytime we want. It's only the choice.

I realised I had the game wrong. The game was to find out what I already was.

Miss USA

Regardless of the fact that she's an Arab-Muslim, Rima Fakih is a silly shallow girl who dances on a pole and wishes for world peace... and HELL NO she doesn't make me proud!! She represents nothing from my culture or religion.
And shame on those who called her an "icon".
This makes me angry, irritated and very disgusted. (I'm only half Egyptian, but even the British half of me is enraged!)

Charlotte

I heard a story from Charlotte, who was the sort of friend I had in my childhood. My friendships then seemed both intimate and uncertain. I never knew why people told me things or what they meant me to believe.
I had gone to the hospital that day with chocolates and flowers. Charlotte lifted her head with its clipped and feathery blonde hair, toward the roses she said, “Huh! They have no smell!, not to me anyway. But they’re beautiful”.
“You must eat the chocolates yourself. Everything tastes like tar to me. I don’t know how I know what tar tastes like, but that’s what I think.”
She was feverish and delirious. Her hand, when I held it, was hot and puffy. Her hair had all been cut off, and this made her look as if she’d actually lost flesh around her face and neck. The part of her under the hospital covers seemed as extensive and lumpy as ever.
“But you mustn’t think I am ungrateful.” She went on, “I appreciate the gifts. Sit down. Bring that chair from over there- she doesn’t need it”
There were two other women in the room. One was just a thatch of yellow grey hair on the pillow and the other was tied into a chair, wriggling and grunting.
“This is a terrible place.” Charlotte said. “But we must just try to our best to put up with it. I’m so glad to see you. That one over there yells all night long. “She said, nodding toward the window bed. “Thank God she’s asleep now. I don’t get a wink of sleep, but I've been putting the time to very good use. What do you think I’ve been doing? I’ve been making up a story for a movie! I have it all in my head and I want you to hear it. You will be able to judge if it will make a good movie. I think it will. I’d like Jennifer Lopez to act in it. I don’t know, though. She doesn’t seem to have the same spirit anymore. She married that mogul..”
“Listen.” Charlotte said before she began her story. I sat and listened. Charlotte would lean forward, even rock a little on her hard bed, stressing some point for me. Her puffy hands flew up and down, her blue eyes widened commandingly, and then from time to time she sank back onto the pillows, and she shut her eyes to get the story in focus again. Ah, yes, she said. Yes, yes. And she continued.
“I know how it goes on,” she said at last, “But that’s enough for now. You’ll have to come back for more. Tomorrow. Will you come back? “
I said, “Yes, tomorrow.” And she appeared to have fallen asleep without hearing me.

The "question"

I made my usual late entrance to the party that night.
I quickly sweeped the place with my eyes. I couldn't see him.
Something inside my heart sent a thug to my stomach to calm down the butterflies that almost reached my throat. I tried to ignore it.
I smiled. I talked. Danced, ate and mingled... like a floating leaf on an autumn morning. I showed nothing of how I felt inside. Like I was wearing a mask hiding my disappointment that he wasn't there.

My heart skipped a beat. I heard the mention of his name. I turned around. My face felt hot and I put down my drink. His name rang in my ears once again and my eyes lighted up this time coz his familiar deep voice followed. My little heart danced around in my chest as everything around me slowly disappeared and all I could see was him across the room. His presence in the same room as me simply melted away all the troubles, aches and fears.

I promised myself I'd never let this happen. But its too late.
I broke the promise and I only realized this tonight as I sat in the dark re-thinking every momment of that night. Only as I sat remembering that feeling.... his cologne and his gaze, most of all, his touch- Only then, did it hit me....

Now the only question is... will he? or will he not?

Her voice

Her voice.
I miss her voice. The warmth and love that poured from her words, like sweet honey soothing a wound.
My mother's voice.
I have no complete sentences. Just the longing feeling and some tears....

To my mother in her language I say:
Ya Mama, wa7ashteeny awy, el donya mn donik msh donya, enty konty kol el donya. Wa7ashteeny.
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