the old woman who does not like me

 What if a person can vomit him or herself when going through difficult times? or vomiting when he feels disgusted by something. 

will it possible be a relief?,will it be a black dust as we see in horror films?, Or will it be a gel or mucus?, and what color will it be the color?; Black or blue or gray?.
I imagine that someone was able to vomit his/her self. Then do we call what comes out the hollow man?,
 Is he going to be alive or dead?, And how will the face look like?;
 So .. In the process of vomiting, one gets rid of human concerns, from the illusions in his life.
 How attractive and frightening this idea, ... but ... wait a moment!! ; What drove me to the this level of thinking?,
 And how could my imiagination drag me to imagine my body without the a soul,
 all i can still remeber is that i am siting on acatche  in the house of an old Victorian in the (West Hempstead)
 with an old blonde woman who does not like me.all what gets to talk to her is the rent that I pay her for my room.


you are  back to be absent-minded again , O miserable!!;
this how the old woman cut off the old "dark" thoughts in my mind, then added: I see you're living in your imagination more than reality.
This could be a big problem , you need to get rid of it quickly, otherwise I you are going crazy soon.

I Respond, saying: Insanity is the last thing in the list of my fears,
but sometimes I do I need to unload large shipments of pent-up energy.
Crazy people are lucky becuase they act without concerning about people's reaction.

she Says: You wish to become insane? ... Hah

I shall answer:  I just hope I get some privileges that the crazy crazy people have!!

privileges?!!!

I say: Yes .. privileges. Insane person is not interested in the opinion of the people,
and they do not pay attention to their reactions. he/she does not think of anything, and this in itself is a huge achievement!!.
The equation is simple, from my point of view; you either to overcome your fear and illusions and become wise;
or that you become crazy. It is also privileges becuase they have nothing to fear from it, or afraid of it.

and whichever you choose: to be wise or be mad?

I shall answer: It's not a choice; It is a faith! .I decide to hide behind this word because
I think that hard choices need to be something the size of fate to separate them.

the old woman did not say anything, but looked at me with combination of surprise , pity and resentment!!.
 Maybe now she is saying to herself, From which mine of cole this miserable object came from?.
Faith is  this huge horrible word. We deal with faith as it is something inevitable and it is our duty to obey, without protesting or arguing;

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Hi All

  I don't really know where to start but it's fair to say that I will never forget the past 8 months. I know I spend the first 5 months of the Libyan  revolution in Canada, but I was following every single step and moment of the revolution. I am in Misurata since August1, and it is so different in here. Giving the fact that Misurata suffered the most, the city is amazingly recovering. I am working with a French company called Acted. It is a non-profit organization and they are really surprised about how organized  Misurat is. Since Qadaffi forces were kicked out from the city, there are lots of new activities and magazines. There are about 14 news papers most of  which are bi-weekly released.

Some of the beautiful seen that I witness in here is whenever the freedom   fighters,rebels, gain a victory in the ground, civilians go on the streets crying, hugging each other and waving flags. Women and children sprinkle rose water over the cars that pass, which is a custom usually reserved for  the bride and groom at weddings. I attended 3 lectures aming to improve the infostructre of Misurata and one lecture discussing the new constitution. It feels like all these people were hidden till the revolution started. as if they all were waiting for the revolution against Qadaffi to do something  for the country.

 I know I lost my only brother for this revolution. He was fighting with the freedome fighters after Qadaffi raped and killed so many people in misurata. He was protecting our familes/children and women from being killed or raped. We all die ,it is the way you die is what matters. People here think of people like my brother as heros. There are so many graffic and pictures of them in walls and cars. The names of the people being killed are written on one big wall, named the wall of the martyr.

 people here work as one big family, everyone gets involved in doing something useful. There are lots of stories to be told, but I honestly can not describe the great environment and the high spirit in here.

  As some of you may know, any sense of Libyan identity and narrative has been hijacked by the nightmare of the Gaddafi regime. In fact it had been the programme of the dictatorship to capture and corrupt even the minutest details of individuals' stories.

   For the first time in our history the idea of democracy is a real, tangibl idea, not a fairy tale. Revolutions aren't about negative objectives, about simply getting rid of people. the world is  about discovering who we are; and what it means to be Libyans.
 
 
 
   Munir
 

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Libyan revolution in Misurata

I don't write to about my community often, but this year is special because it's the Feb 17 revolution baby and many people don't know much about it.
 
Let me tell you a little bit about my story. I am living a couple miles from Tripoli street, and I was the kind of person who thought  local community doesn't matter anymore if we've got the internet and tv. The only time I thought about my neighbors so seriously was when I hoped they wouldn't bother me with nonsense.
 
When the Tripoli street fell, I found myself talking to more people in the days after Feb 17 than ever before. People said hello to neighbors (next-door and across the city) who they'd normally  ignore. People were looking after each other, helping each  other, and meeting up with each other. You know, being neighborly.
 
A lot of people were thinking that maybe Feb 17 revolution could bring
people together in a lasting way. We didn't know if it would work. Most people thought it was a crazy idea -- especially because Qadaffi regime was designed to make people distrust one another and stay distanced  .
 

After the success of Libyan revolution, people in Misurata who were partners in the battle field are often happen to grow businesses and bands together, they teach and
motivate each other, they babysit each other's kids and find other ways to work together. They have fun and find solace together. They make friends and form powerful community. It's powerful feelings.
 
It's a wonderful revolution in local community, and it's thanks to everyone who sacrificed their life to stand against Qadaffi brutal regime.
 
 
Qadaffi didn't make us too scared to go outside or express our feelings to "strangers". Feb 17 didn't rip us apart. No, it was meant for us for building new community together!!!!
 
Qadaffi fell, but we rise up. And we're just getting started with building a new democratic and and just state.

I am loving in it!!

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Take a handful of dust from Misurata

It's six thirty in the evening, I'm in a coffee shop in the center of Ottawa Downtown .In Ottawa where I lived, worked and studied for over 5 years. The heat of the few days of the summer in Ottawa made me remember the hot breezes of city of Misurata. Often a question wraps around and presses my body ,my soul and my heart, when will I see the tyrant vanishes away on my dear homeland, so I can breathe freedom after it has been washed with the blood of martyrs' bones?.

The tyrant prepared a war machine led by his criminals sick children, along with tens of thousands of mercenaries from all quarters, mainly Africans, occupying, destroying, burning and raping following the orders of  Muammar Gaddafi to hurt his Libyan's people. All revolutions the Arab regions faced violence, but a revolution in Libya had a uniqueness to it. This is based on the uniqueness of Gaddafi's bloody dictatorship personality .Gaddafi was superior to all of the giants and tyrants, for the first time in history, waging war on his people.

The youth of Misurata raised the pyramids of blood and spread the fragrance of freedom. Misurata the steadfastness and the confrontation, Stalingrad of the century and the icon of freedom. I walked in the spirit of life, and wrapped her[Misurata] name on the conscience of the world, and chanted to the conscience of human grandeur. O soul of a national song, O my age, and chills and sentimental, I send you a call of love, Loving you is a sign out of respect to you and magnifications. My love, you donated blood, flesh and soul, engraved the crown of your freedom your. Misurata you are an expression of rejection of the occupation and submission.



Thanks to our young people rables who pushed tyrant away and protect our women and children in Misurata.

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Sorry, "Pythagoras:" Libya is the difficult equation
Sorry, "Newton:" Libya is the law of gravity
Sorry, "Descartes:" I am a Libyan therefore I exist
Sorry, "Da Vinci": Libyan girls are more beautiful than the Mona Lisa
Sorry "Edison:" Libya is the lamp/light of the world
Sorry, "O morning:" Libya is the sunshine
Sorry, "Plato" Misurata is the utopia
Sorry, "Rome": All roads lead to Libya
Sorry, "Gaddafi":: Libya is us all


I am loving in it!!

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In the presence of the right conditions.

 

In the presence of the right conditions.

A necessary disclaimer to be said

When the right conditions are to be fully grown, you will feel you are alone for a moment of pride. Then take your thinking in much tenderness and honor yourself.
..............

Yes, he was a person characterized by Staleness ,but he had a few atoms of love and care saved them for her alone. 

 
Yes, he was a person characterized by fear of humans, but he possessed something of trust placed it in one of the pillars of himself and wrote, there is comfort in waiting.

And because of those dark eyes that were not always disclosing the purpose of his quietness, she started to say every time she meets him, be patient girl , there is some care waiting for you .

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For the Sake of Writing

If it is possible to be going nowhere, then it is also possible to write without having an idea of what to write about. So, here, I am just writing only to practice the act of writing.


I feel myself approaching a revolution on my human relations. My abilities of guessing, interpretation and prospective almost stopped on perfuming. All this happening spontaneously at the beginning of the end.


There are different people, places and time and yet we keep having the same painful stories recorded every day. A new crime against the human relations. It is just a proof to the low value that people have when it comes to recognizing the soul, spirit and humans.


I should know very well that the loss may face me at any moment .It probably comes at the happiest moments of my life or probably comes at a moment of boredom where I was setting desiring anything which drives the inactive water in my life.


What annoyed me is I am left alone without being provided with a logical story to tell those around me. So I need to write without having a clear scenario to be able to tell a story and convince others that It did happen.


I Become well acceptance to the idea of fate and I become having a satisfaction to any result I end up with .But who said that the satisfaction of the pain leads you to forget the pain.


I became stronger, but I struggle. I learn, but I struggle. I ignore the bitter events, but I struggle: and I embarrass mixed feelings but I do not resort to interpretation.


I am loving in it!!

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It is raining blood

He is walking out of the house expressing sadness of the poisoned news, wondering: Why there are all these crazy fire?! . His feet led him away from the noise of the city..Flared in his heart grief sadness .. elevated the dirt on the road and walked faster in his footsteps .


He then drew his attention towards the dome of the sky calling God:

Why some people pursue a vision of directing others towards the abyss of hell? How is it possible for others to lead some humans to the volcanoes ?! 


The palm trees standing tall hearing his sadness while a refreshing air softly touches his dark sweaty face. The story began as a movie showing oppressed childhood, youth, and elders wasted by the black battles .. Ah .. Oh, Oh unjust battles! .. His body shows sign of concern covering him from head to toe. He was thinking of the children ,young people ,mothers and middle-aged and elderly people who their eyes share one common language ,tears .. Oh my tears! ..


Thousands of questions are boiling in his sad being. This is the entity that took root within his groans . The groans of millions of people who are waiting for death .. Ah ..  Burning questions conjoined spirit in the skies! .. He kept on walking while in front of him the picture of his smashed skulls of some old friends. He felt a shiver in the pores of his skin. He tried to close his eyes with his hands to remove the images of the soil in the skulls of his friends,but he could not. They are remained stuck in the depths of his memory. Full of worries and setbacks! . The most beautiful things and future goals faded away in front of him and turned into a mirage ..The visions began swinging between the fear of death of children on the side of roads, and the cells that were unjustly controlling the necks of millions from all sides.


O God send some rain!


While walking through the fields, he stumbled in his way and his head hit the trunk of a tree, which led to some angry sparks to start flying from his mouth.


Mutter: Damn you, O defeats and victories .. Then shouted loudly: victories is a one face of defeats, and defeats is having spoils at the expense of the necks of people! .. (Ah .. Ah and thousands of Ah) .. What is the point of victories if it brings defeats to the other human beings? .. Victories in this way is one of the defeats of the twenty first century. Then victories is a transition from a green oasis to a desert full of defeated human.


Continued walking in his footsteps shuffling ,then started to ask himself with a refracted heart:


Why do not we learn the songs of joy from the rustling trees? .. Why do we dive to the war and spends most of days and nights learning how to break the hearts of children who are between the arms of their mothers?


Suddenly he began repeating , I've found it .. I've found . An idea came to him quick and he felt that this idea was hanging its tails to the clouds so he needed to to pick it up from the heavy fog


After living more than quarter of a century, and after that increased of children 's crushed skulls I can conclude that Darwin's theory failed when stating : "The man was originally a monkey, and evolution of the monkey reached to be the human being that we know now!”.


That's what Darwin said, but he will say just the opposite: he now believes that that monkey was originally a human being before the evolution .. And the evolution of the human through the stages of a very long time led to become a monkey within the human that we are these days! .. Otherwise, why these human monkeys are increasing day by day to control the fate of most human beings on this planet.




I am loving in it!!

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The Old woman who does not like me (Part2)

This is the old woman (Margaret); clear and shocking, but at the same time vague and blurred. She gives you the impression that there are many things taking place under the surface. She also gives you impression that she knows everything. She is peaceful and very calm, but strict to the point the she brutality extract her rights from you. In spite the fact that she passed seventy countless years ago;she is still burning enthusiasm and active. For example, she is still perseverance to walk the morning for a full hour each day, and likes watering her garden every morning by herself. She actually does everything by herself such as shopping, cooking, washing clothes, and other works that it may not be possible to a woman half her age. Margaret calls younger women the "take-aways" generation. 

Where your imagination takes you, O unhappy boy?, So the old woman suddenly asks me.


I shall answer: I am still stuck with your last question, I am still primitive in dealings with others, and the instinct for survival still in control of my decisions and my actions. People for me are still either friends or enemies. 


the old woman tells me: the truth is that most people fall between these two labels, they actually swing between them. There are no permanent friends or permanent enemies. 


I say: you are back to hunt your favorite color, painting the world in gray


she answers : gray is the absolute true, a dominant color in life, where white and black are only an optical illusion and very harmful. 


I say: Do you really think that there is absolute truth in this world?. 


she answered without hesitation: Yes ... money. Money is the main driver of events in this universe, for which actual plans are made,hatched plots, and shed blood!!. 


I say: you are living for money, then?. 


She answered: I can say I can not live without it. 


I am lost in my thoughts again thinking : Oh God how I envy this old woman and the presence of her mental clarity and fiery, she does not even need to think about the answer to any questions I asked her about the beliefs and the way of understanding life and the definition of the world . She uses a few words, but large in its meaning. Oh God, I need these words in my life. In all my social surround which I lived in more than quarter of a century, I  was forced to call things by soft titles so I do not seem defiantly disobedient and do not hurt the pride of the conservative society. 


How can this old widow only become clear with the pattern of her life? How can she be confident of her own for this. And how she can permit those convictions in front of strangers without fear of any consequences? But how can anyone in the world be confident of of knowing what they want and what they need!!!(Continued)

I am loving in it!!

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The old woman who does not like me

She Says: What brought you here?.

I say: my destiny.

She Says: But I do not believe in fate. I believe in planning and work only.

I say: That's your problem, but I believe in that - or call it what you want - is one that threw me in your way.

She Says:Say what you like,as long you pay the rent, that will not hurt me even if you call me the devil.

I say, laughing: Yes it fits you to call you Satan, but dementia one.

she then answered me with a laugh as well: the demons - at least - have more clarity and integrity in making  plots more than lots of people.

I say: You are a believer then?.

then she answered: Sure ... I believe in working ... and in money! 

Suddenly occurs to me another question to ask her: Why do I feel sometimes you do not love me?

the old woman  answered in Brod: at least I do not hate you, I also do not like to hypocrisy you, sentiment is not another passion of mine, and you are a customer and for me I try to work with you professionally.

I say, arguing: you are a robot, then?.

she says: I do not care to switch to a light pole or a chair in the bus so long as it meets my needs.

I Ask: Where is your humanity in that?.

she says: I spent my humanity in my childhood, and what is left of it spent it on some passers-lovers who left me in search of more exciting adventures.

I do not know if I have glimpsed the tears in her eyes, but I felt deep emotion in her voice when she answered the last question. Few seconds of silence then the old woman got over her reservation to ask me: Why insist on personifying things? Why try to divide people as you want to loving and hating?. I think that life is more complicated than that.

I was not sure what to answer to her question, because I simply do not have the answer. I know for sure that life is more complicated, and people are more volatile. It is not wise to splitting up people into good guys and bad guys, or to angels and demons.

More importantly, I ask myself Why I am faltering in front of this old woman who still living on dreams of past Taled. Everything around her is old; her photos of (Churchill) and (Montgomery) are old, the old piano in the corner of the living room, and  the old phone with a disk ... everything?. 

(Continued)

I am loving in it!!

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How do summer and winter meet at the same time!?

Is When two conflicts feelings meet at the same time


When you have a lot to speak, But you can not speak
When you think you have the freedom to dream
But discover that you have no right to dream


When Believing that the imagination is a means to achieve the aspirations, but you are convinced that there are limits to your imagination


When you wishes of happiness, then Find evidence that happiness to others and not to you
I am loving in it!!

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a CafeShop on the Crossroads...

There is a Cafe-shop on the Crossroads...
There are a stove and a fire...
My love and I wold smear it with secrets...
I came back and found inside.. two young lovers...
Sitting on out chair.. robbing us the Path...

O'Yellow(Autumn) leaves.. we are growing old, we are growing old...
Roads!, Houses! are growing old...
The world would come to and end, and only you,
O' My Homeland...You are forever a young child...

Like an arrow coming back after travelling through times...
I cross the streets.. not even one human smiles to me!!...
All my friends have grown old.. what was, is now no more...
they have become the past... they become the gold of oblivion...

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My Hometown

My Hometown is a lovely forest of sweet hills.
Its love is a long melody; its land is beauty.
Our house there, and flowers' fields, and tranquillity's calmness.
Arak grows leaves, and birds sing in its safe hieghts.
Its clouds are a spring, flirtatiously alluring.
Its wood are invincible on mountains's tops.
Whenever I wander between those hills and familiar gardens.
Flights of field birds toss in the green and well-grown meadows.
Those lowlands are imagination's birthplace; heart's nativ-land are those shadows.


I am loving in it!!

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It has been a wonderful journey…

I have completed my bachelor degree in Computer Science with honours degree in Software Computing. Yes, now I can finally breathe a sigh of relief and officially say that I am finished my undergraduate degree. It is hard to believe that four years have passed since I first stepped foot on campus and saw the O-Train, waited for my first bus at Minto Center and ate my first meal in the cafeteria. I can still recall so clearly moving away from my family, meeting people and being homesick, feeling excited and nervous at the same time. I feel as though I have barely begun to know Ottawa, I am only starting to really connect with all my new friends, and that I am finally fitting in – only to find my time here is over.

What strikes me most about my time at Carleton is how it has changed me.Coming from adifferent country,Libya, with few extra-curricular options, I believed that I could do everything. My time at Carleton has taught me that I have limitations: it is not always fair or possible to try to do everything, nor is it always desirable. I have learned that those people who are most successful, and happiest, are the ones who choose projects they are passionate about. With this in mind, I am trying to identify what is most important to me and I am trying to just say “no” when I am feeling overwhelmed.

This journey has been a very successful academic/life experience. I would like to begin by expressing my gratitude toward my parents. It is their care and unconditional love that has made me the person that I am. I dedicate this degree to them.

During my undergrad studies I have been fortunate to work with three different companies in the industry of Software development. I have worked with Infonium as a database developer. I also worked for Adobe and RIM doing Software Verification.

I am loving in it!!

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My Trip to Mexico City

To me Mexico City is one of the worlds great cities, huge, one of the world's most difficult cities to drive in, filled with exciting things to see and do, sinking, an energetic metropolis and just an incredible place to visit

Mexico is one reign of the world that has always fascinated me. Some like the Asiatic nomads of 35000 years ago and their successors or the Spanish conquerors of the sixteenth century and their successors came to settle and make their distinctive contributions to the evolution of Mexican culture and society. I noticed in my trip to Mexico City that the city has become similar to that in neighboring United States and Europe with lots of high rising building and fascinating museums

In my visit to Mexico city, I was introduced to lots of folk art traditions, mostly derived from the indigenous and Spanish crafts. I got the chance to see the great work of the painters Diego Rivera who became world famous for his grand murals, often displaying clear social messages where beautiful Frida Kahlo, his wife, produced more personal works with abstract elements.

I noticed that Mexico City's culture is the result of the mixing of indigenous and Spanish traditions, foods, music, religion, and architecture. It is a place where no matter where one looks, the old meets the new to create something unique. A good example of this is found in the city's traditional foods which include chili peppers and tortillas--flat corn-based breads that were eaten by the ancient Aztecs and which are eaten today at almost every meal. I immediately saw and appreciated the mixing of Spanish and native cultures there.

This trip has been a very successful traveling experience. I would like express my gratitude toward my friend Cesar and his family, Patricia and Thierry . It is their care and warm hosting that has made this trip one to remember.

I am loving in it!!

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