Mutual Careless Care

“In a coffee shop in town, i sit in a pretentious posture, listen to music i hate for people i loath. I sip on a bitter sweet coffee i order before, disgusted before, but it’s the lesser of all evils. Just double shot of bitter coffee, one shot of caramel, low fat, no cream, on other though extra shot of caramel for future diabetes and 2 other pretentious words that i like to say to you.
Pause a moment and look around see what the cool people are drinking now.”


Some quiet alone time, divorcing myself from everyone and everything. Just me, my coffee, my notebook, a long worn off book and the shadow of my thoughts.

Curled up in my own corner writing words that no one may ever read, just running a light blue ink on clear white paper.

I sit here as my eyes swing from one face to the other as fragments of life unwind right in from of me like the threads of a tapestry, one thread at a time.

How people unravel themselves unknowingly. How their every rhythmic move, prancing walk, the way their hands brush their hair, even the clicks of their shoes say more about them than words ever will.

I am not a reader of people. Nor do I know about what’s behind their flesh’s façade. All I know is what they absent-mindedly whisper, from their unconscious to mine.

I sit here on an uncomfortably comfortable leather sofa wondering how many innocents, animals and humans, were killed to make this. Life is that worthless to many!!

I sit here analyzing every piece of furniture and creature in the room, and they gaze back at me trying to know what I see, what I write.

Tell me more, you stranger, why you carelessly care, innately judge, how dynamic is this to you?




منتصف الطريق

وصلنا إلى منتصف الطريق. لا نعلم أين نحن. كيف آلت بنا الأيام إلى هنا. إلى قارعة الطريق التي أجبرتنا على إتخاذ قرارات لا طاقة لنا بها.

“إلى النهاية”~ قلناها لبعضنا.. رددناها على آذاننا و نحن نهم بالرحيل. هناك حين افترقنا في منتصف الطريق. حيث تركنا آمالنا و أحلامنا تموت.

“إلى الأبد” سنظل في قلوب بعضنا البعض.

In Me…

There is a tear in my eye that has fought too long. Too many wars not cried. Too many losses not grieved. Too many scratch on the flesh and the heart. Yet it stays, my tear stays in its lair. Unspilled.


There is a chocked silence in my throat. Too laud for words. Too hurtful to ears. Too much for my loved ones. And it stays here, my words stays loyal to me. Unspoken.


There are stories in my chest. Too old for memories. Too fresh for histories. Too close to me. It pillows my heart. Untold.


There is a spirit in me that aches in misery. Too weary for the world. Too heavy on my soul. Too liberate for this dungeon. But it stays here. Free.


أين أعيش

مما خطه قلمي…

في بلاد العرب أعيش مغترباً

في كنف الوطن أعيش مكفناً

في عين القريب أعيش مذلولاً

في عين الغريب أعيش بطلاً

في عالم الأحياء أعيش ميتاً

في عالم الأموات أعيش خالداً

في عصر التقدم أعيش متخلفاً

في عصر الجاهلية أعيش حكيماً

photo 2

just an urban myth

After reading this sleep, if you can ;)

This is your bedtime story . . “Silence”screeched an unearthly voice. Low, strong, shivering voice that came from nowhere. But you heard it, you heard it loud and clear, and you wonder, was that your mind playing tricks again or was it the terror of reality. You stop singing but you hesitate to leave your bed or reach out your hand to light the pitch black room. Your senses were never so awake. You can feel every movement of the hair in the back of your neck. you squint at the corners of the dark room lying under your blanket to the shadow of the unknown. “Is it a mirage?” you wonder, and you hear it again. This time you hear the shadow inhale hard as if it sucked the life out of the room. A gurgling sound tickles the shadow’s throat and motionless the shadow speaks “Silence my slave”. You see the shadow approach you and take you in it’s black clock and you were nothing but a memory among the mortals, just an urban myth.


.. The End.. . .
Nighty night hope you have pleasant dreams *evil laugh* 
photo 1

A Mute’s Lullaby

Hi Readers,

Some of you asked me to post the 3 part series of the 2 sentence story I wrote on insta on my blog so here they are :: ENJOY


Part 1:

“I was born without a voice, so I let my heart sing my baby to sleep night after night” she wrote in her suicide note.


Part 2:

“I gave birth to six boys. Yet only one remain in my hands and sleeps on my chest night after the other, oblivion of what is coming for him. But I was determined to fight tonight, I will not let it take my last child to the other side.”


Part 3:

“The floor creaked as the devil crawled towards us and darkness bestowed upon my child… I chanted my prayers against the devils calls but I woke up next to six empty cribs and the horror of the devil who took its children from their mother.”