it's one of this moments when you're happy in a way you can't explain to yourself
not the sharp joy , it's the warm and smooth satisfaction
it's for no particular reason , you're just feeling really fine
and it feels right , as if it's how it's supposed to be , like it's the default in everybody
and it needs nothing to get there , you just need to realize it , to touch it inside you
it's like a soft music all day long , you forget that it's on , you lose it in the crowded room
but when you really concentrate , it's still being played , and it will be
this feeling is completely free of charge , it doesn't ask you for a degree or your bank account
all it needs is some room in your head , to give it a space to grow or just .. breathe 

 I know that there's something about my life that isn't quite right
I can't point it out , but i just know .. like everyone know , but don't give it much thought
I can say that it stopped being a life for sometime ago , the scene has frozen , the words are repeated from the same hidden radio everyday in the same tone
I thought i remember , in the little book about life for beginners, i once read
"it's completely "forbidden" (in flashy red ink) that life should ever be predictable
so why is it violating this strict rule in my case?
why is it so stupidly boring ?
what ? has the beginner's book changed without anyone telling me about it ?
did we force (out of fear of the unknown) life to be predictable ?
did we kill the main reason why life is a life ! , did we kill "c'est la vie !" with it's beautiful exclamation mark ?

it's a very weird , or very brave action to write to yourself
cause that what's writing in a blog with 2 followers basically means :-D
it shows you how awfully you love writing , that you deny the fact that nobody's reading
it shows you that writing in itself is your medicine
that it's still enlightening , even if it's just turning on the torch for you alone in a dark room
that you'll still do it , no matter how stupid it may look
you'll talk to yourself , you'll squeeze your mind for the right word
because it feels so damn good when you find the right word
it's still rewarding , even with "zero" readers
so , dear" me" .. have a lovely night :-)

sometimes , to be compatible with your fellow members of the society , you feel obliged to need what they need , and do what they do
you feel obliged to be a silent copy , although you're a genuine version
it's a rule , you shouldn't be different
cause that's a big danger , especially in a society like here in egypt
everyone , i mean everyone is concerned about your life , and thinks it's his faithful job to advise you , regardless this precious advice is needed or not , whether it fits your situation or not
whether you'll accept what he accepts , believe what he believes
he/she just talks , and thinks it's his divine message to express his -totally unwelcome - opinion anyway
we're like a quality insurance observer on the behavior of everyone else except ourselves
we are members of the same society , because we live on the same place or share some similarities , color , language .. etc , but we shouldn't share all , we shouldn't be similar in everything
we shouldn't all be selling , ( the job that everyone end up working in one way or the other)
we shouldn't all be wearing skinny jeans , we shouldn't all be sharing the same religious beliefs
everyone should get enough free space to say , " well , i don't want to do this , and i don't have to explain why , i'm mature enough to know what's good for me "

sometimes it's hard to grasp this thought
that there're so many people out there , SO many , each with a mind of his own , dreams of his  own
foolishness of his own
so many gone , and so many are still to come
it's endless , massive maze of details
it leaves me feeling helpless sometimes , that however original an idea is ,it's hard not to think that there must be someone , somwhere , thought of this before or even at the same time as you did
it's hard to be new , it's hard to be unique or one of a kind in a world like this
but you won't have to be distressed about this ,
maybe it's a bliss that you don't have to reinvent the wheel , that you won't have to rediscover the dark roads
and it's definitely a bliss to watch the creativity of all these minds , at one point of a time , a bliss to watch all these differences
a bliss to observe that there's never a" copy and paste" in a feature or a smile or a print of a human being
we're different though we sometimes don't realize it , as we 've been packed in categories and stereotypes
but in a deeper level , you're not like anybody , you're you

you can still be unique in this huge, old ,played-all-the-tricks world

is it out of your hand to be who you are ?
to be who you want to be ?
is it your birth mark ?
or is it possible that we can challenge our genes , how we're raised , all the childhood mistakes
and build ourselves all over again ?
do we have what it takes to reborn ?

i still insist on writing , though no one is reading
but it's ok , let it be my dark room , here , i'll just le it be !
there're days , and in my case , they're plenty , when you can't tell if you're blessed or cursed
can't define if you're really miserable , or you made it up
don't know why you are in this place and stuck with these people
don't know whether you like these people , or you just got used to them , or simply there're no other options !
don't know if life didn't get your messages , or they were mixed up with someone else's
can't tell if you're too stupid , or too smart
then it gets hard , and really confusing , and you wish you don't have to deal with all these questions today
or tomorrow , and you'll get busy to distract them away
but you'll never get busy enough to escape from yourself

it's not easy , when everyone expecting you to be the good girl , regardless of anything
as if it's a default in the female character to behave according to society measures
even if it's tightly fitting her mind and soul
we have this rigid lines of wrong and right , red , flaming and unapproachable
we have one version of the good girl with no updates , and we often like to believe what we see
we like to read the story from a cover of a book , though all it holds is a vague title , and maybe it's the wrong cover even !
and why is it always expected of a girl to be good ? , if we were all good girls , who're the bad ones then ?

today , i realized that we have the predator instinct , like any other animal out there
we sense weakness , we smell fear , and we attack
it's so provoking , it's the chance to prove that you're stronger , that you belong to the lions ,not the lambs
we're ready to kneel down to power , however aggressive and tyrant , but we can't forgive weakness
we take advantage of it , we like to abuse the weak , it satisfies our ego
that's why it's often said , to beware of showing your weakness
beware of provoking the predator instinct in people around you cause it'll not stop , it's insatiable and fierce
is it ok to show it to the people you love ? i can't be sure about that , but they can turn to be the worst predators !
tip of the day : beware !

even if you didn't show it , even if you try hard to conceal it ,
you're worn out ( i mean me also , don't get distracted )
it's showing , whether through your weary smile , or the extinguished light in your eyes , or this weak tone of your voice
you're not you , you're the shadowy , pale version of you , the palest color of your colors
and it's turning to be a trend nowadays
we're definitely the saddest generation ever existed on earth ,
we think we have it all , but somehow we're losing it all
we're materializing our nature , we're been cut to sizes , heated , boiled , pressed , packed in boxes
we're adding stress and pressure on every little detail , to make it faster , to make it better , to make it now
every real human detail , is put aside and getting smaller and insignificant , like an appendix or a rudimentary tail
it's scary and increasing , and i don't want to be there when it reaches the peak

i believe it's ok to write , even when you don't really know what to say
this is one of my foolish attempts to write daily ,
i tried to keep a diary , but it didn't work , i confess , i have an insignificant life , so static , that i can literally predict every single moment
so it's not the course of my days that will concern me in this blog , it's the course of my thoughts , the common clouds that passed your head and my head
these set of feelings that we all possess , these unsolved question marks
i can't promise to be amusing , i can't promise to be wiser
but i promise to be honest