هي

طفقت ابحث عن قلمي
و شرعت ألملم أوراقي
فعنها ابدأ حدبثي
هي وحي إلهامي
و لها ألحن كلماتي
أهدي اليها وجودي
و أفصح لها عن أحلامي
معها أكون نفسي
و لها يزداد جنوني
هي مكنونات قلبي
و أعماق أسـرارى
لها بدأ عشقي
و هي كل مرادي
اسمها في زفرات انفاسي
عطرها يعبق كياني
حالة حب في لمساتي
ترفعني من عمق اشجاني
هي حلم أيامي
و منتهي حياتي
هي....حبي

Blah!

*Sigh!* AHHHHHHHHH Shit, Shit Shit!!!

How many of us, said these words (or some other form) in an occasion or 2?

How many of us said these words of frustration and disappointment.

How many of us, feel that they are stuck in the wrong place, in the wrong direction, some even in the wrong time.

Wither its a job you don't want be doing, and everyday is like.....hmmph work! same shit different day!. Or a dream that seems unreachable; maybe its feeling so out of place with everything around you; or your just completely utterly bored to death.

We are our own worst enemies, we let our minds ruin our lives and excessive thinking just makes things worse, Our judgment is always impaired when it comes to matters of one's self, we never seem to be logical and many a time, we preach what we don't do!

And it's alright to feel so, we are after all human, but to let it linger, to have it effect our lives, waste our time, is just foolish and sometimes down right pathetic....so chin up, life is not that bad, contemplate and prioritize, set goals and work towards them, and try to be as transparent as possible with yourself.

Note: there is none......

.......منهم ولا

السؤال.... هو أنا منهم ولا..؟ يطرح نفسه و بنسأله لنفسنا كتير.
أنا منهم ولا لأ... و عشــان نفهم أكتر , لازم نعرف موضع الســـؤال.

الســؤال يا أعزائي.... بيتسأل كل يوم , في كل موقف أو حدث يحصل و تلائي الجمع بيتصرف بطريقة معينة تجاه هذا الأمر. و تجد نفسـك في أحدي الحالتين لرد هذا الســؤال.
أولهم, هو إنك تعمل ذي الجمع و تبئي منهم, أو متعملش ذي الجمع يأما عن إقتناع ( إنت مش منهم ) أو عن عدم مقدرة (نرجو إعادة المحاولة مرة أخري)
طبعاً الحدث يحتمل الخطأ و الصواب, يعني مش لازم يكون تصرف كوخه أو وحش, ممكن يكون واجب او اي حاجة من الحاجات المفروض تتعمل و معملتهاش.
أمثلة!؟؟....و مالو! لازم برضو لترسـيخ المعني....مثلا...مثلا... يا رب علي الفضيحة!!! معاكسـة بنات...مش منهم, فلرتي مع البنات...اه منهم 
شرب دخان...مش, مدمن بيبسي...للأسف منهم, أستغلالي... مأظونش, مجنون...بكل فخر أه, شريـر...نص نص منهم (فلهزار), منظم... مش منهم أخر حاجة, عقرب (البرج مش حاجة تانية)... منهم, وحجات تانية كتير بس كفاية عشـان الفضيحة!!

في النهاية الأنسـان عبارة عن مجموعة من حالات منهم او مش منهم, المهم تكون إنتا منهم أو مش منهم عشـان الأسباب الصح...حتي ولو ده مش الحال في جميع الأوقات.

هي الحياة

تســاقـطت أعبائي كغصن جفت أوراقه
وأحسـست بهرب أيامي كما القطار غير عابئ

فهي كصور في زخم الحياة تفاصيلها مكتملة
و وجدتني أنظر إليها فشاحت عني أنظارها
فتتأججت مشــاعري كطفل يبكي
وخرت قوأي بعد طول معترك

طفقت أقبل عليها فهمت هي بيا
إبتسـمت لها فضحكت فبكيت أنا
لا أبغي فراقها وقد قتلني ركودها

هي كانت كأحلام الواقع
فأبيت أن لا تكون واقع أحلامي

و أطبقت علي قلم جف كلماته
عله يجود علي كما جاد من قبلي

تفكرت فأنكرت وجودي
وقبلته فأنهكني إختفائي

و أبتسـمت و أنا أكتب كلماتي
فهي بلا معني و لكنها حالي

I love writing!

The ravishing thoughts of a once live mind now dead, echoed with the deafening sound of a heart that bleed and as the soul laid down to waste, the mortal coil got set to be erased

You must be thinking, woooh! whats up with the gloomy start dude?

If you are, then continue on to know why, and if not, well just enjoy this all the same :)

Go over these two sentences again, how does it make you feel? is it a poem, or are they just words, maybe it was never intended to be so, but came out never the less as is.....

Still confused, asking what the hell am i yabbering about;

Then sit back for this is a first seat view to the insight of why i sometimes write what i write these things above..

One of the reasons i write, simply is to put a word i like or have been thinking about, onto a page and into a sentence, i would build up a whole story or an article discussing whatever issue, so i can just use that one word (can be more than one), getting the pic now?

If not, well let me try to explain more; can you figure out which word in the above two sentences i like and thus created these two sentences to be a crib for this word? comon give it a try, shouldn't be that hard, at least it's not a bloody story or an article this time :)

I genuinely love to write, i remember my big stupid smile, when i was asked to write the press release for an event the company was holding, how happy i was when it got published the next day in the local newspapers (of course not under my names, but still were my words); and a shout out to that friend who helped me do so.

I undeniably love to write, when i read works for my friends, and feel how beautiful the written word is and how strong, and that i can be a part of that world, and another shout out to all you out there (yes yes you know who) who write and i read for, keep up the good work fellas.

I absolutely love to write, when i read the comments on the stuff i wrote, those words of encouragement and support, friendship and love, proud and envey (goood one) where it all connects, writers and readers alike, a big shout out to those, keep the comments coming guys

I truley love to write, because in my writings i can say whatever and not give a fuck, i can thrash ppl, critise thoughts, fall in lovel or make up a sci-fi; i can thrill ppl, i can make them sleep; and i can alter lives, i just love how words can alter lives.

I evidently love to write, because i challange myself with the game of words, would think up a word and then i would try to build a piece around it, as i have done many times before and as i have done just now in the beggining of this piece

I love to write, simply because i can, i may not be the next Najeeb Mahfouz or Ahmed Rajab, i may not be good at all, but i believe it's something i can do, and if i can then i enjoy it and this one particularly.....well this one i just love.

The River and Me...

As i stopped to grab a breath and look around me, i saw that everything was the same;
The world was colored the same, smelled the same, even tasted the same.....

All Grey, I couldn't see anything form the thick forest of fog and mist, i extended my arms, only to get swallowed by the mist.....it was getting thicker, and the more i stood still, the more engulfed by the clouds i became..i had to move, had to keep going on.....

I then closed my eyes, concentrating on enhancing my hearing, i had to bare the fog, now almost up to me chest....i listen, still listen....i could hear breeze, then i heard water.

Opened my eyes and took one last look, before i started moving out in the direction i thought i heard the water come from; as i washed away the fog from me, i picked up speed, and while still trying to listen to the water, i followed the gust of wind no starting to blow.

I stopped, and again closed my eyes to listen....'It's that direction' i said to myself. I started to move towards the sound again, this time clearly hearing water, a running stream it seems; as i keep on moving, i notice my body doesn't feel heavy like before; 'is the mist growing lighter?' i thought; i kept my course steady and went on...and the suddenly, sun rays hit my eyes, blinded by the sudden exposure to light, i held my hand in front of my eyes for while, trying to slowly welcome light back into me again, i can feel the warmth building in, the feel of sun of my skin and the breeze on my face; slowly i open my eyes...

Breath taken for moments, the view in front me spread vast as vision can reach, wide meadows of green pasture and brown sticks of tree and in the middle, a blue line of water; a painting so simple yet so obsolete, so refreshing and contradicting to what i was in before, i look back and i see green, where has the fog gone?

Not giving it thought, i walk towards the stream, and the more i approached the running water, the bigger that blue line became. In the distance i could make out a figure of an old man waving, was he waving to me? He must, there is no one around but me, so it's got to be me.

Making my way in the direction of the old man, i started to slightly run, i don't know why i did so, but it's that feeling of invigoration, the harder i run, them ore lighter i feel, distance closing in fast, i draw closer to the old man, his face becoming clearer, i can tell he held such a sweet caring smile, finally reaching the old man, i gasp for air..... hmmmph...pooof!

- Hi, where am i?

- Take a deep breath first, Hesham

As i inhale a deep fresh batch of air, i take a closer look at the old man, he had the figure that suggests he was well built when he was young, white silky hair and clear water like blue eyes, you can clearly see the marks of time on his old face, yet it all comes wonderfully to give you serenity unparalleled.

- How do you know my name? Where am i? Who are you?

- I am but an old man, and you are here in my land; he said with a smile

- Why am i here? i don't understand....

- Well let me tell you a story, walk with me.

- Long time ago this river you see here, was just a small stream, its beginning ways far from here, the river vigorous and young, it used to sweep down the shores, unrelenting and uncontrollable, this river used to dash through both mud and stone, setting to reach out its journey's end, but no matter how long the river ran, the path never ended.

The old man stops to look around, i can see a joyful smile as he takes the surroundings around him in, not wishing to interrupt him, i myself try to grasp whatever i can from the beauty around me, in my failed attempts i open my eyes to find the old man looking at me and laughing..

- Wish you could see you face, what were you doing?

- What happened to the river then? i asked, embarrassed to answer his previous question

- Ah yes! well the river started to get weary and tired of aimlessly flowing, and many times thought of giving up and just being a stream, maybe that's what he was always intended to be, nothing more, nothing less; and in the midst of his tired thoughts, he came upon another small stream, that little stream was young and crazy, flowing all around, she sensed the river was sad, approached him and asked, what is wrong river Sir? i am not a river (not yet) i am just a big stream, but a stream still and i have been flowing for a long time looking for my ocean, but i can't find it, and i have grown weary and tired.

- But river Sir, i see you have a lot of riches within you, waiting to flow and its the journey that counts, you get to meet other streams and rivers, like me; and your story is yet to be told.

- 'Maybe it is little one' Said the river, for now i have a path i must choose, and no matter what, i never regret what i have done before, lets move on and i know one day i will meet my ocean, and on my journeys i will make new friends, grow stronger with their support and flow faster.

- Years gone by and the river flows, making friends, choosing paths, loosing way, but always coming back, refusing to be just another stream, the river grow bigger, more stronger, much more richer and he was never along....then one day, the river met the ocean and a thing of beauty it was, you could swear you didn't see anything of the like, for the river has finally reached his goal, reached the end of his journey he has been on so long.

His story now over the old man stood still, closed his eyes, spread his arms and started to laugh
seeing how happy he was, i couldn't help but start laughing myself, as i slowly spread my arms, i rotated around myself, i could now feel it, i could finally feel the place.

After ages of moments, and holding on to breath from the laughter, i raise my hand to the old man and smile back at him, it was my first smile since i came to this place; thank you i thought, and as if he read my mind, he patted my back and looked to me, and i looked back at him, those blue eyes seems familiar to me, i thought to myself, where did i see them before.

- Has this answered your question, why and how?
With gratitude in my eyes, i nodded my head yes, whispering 'thank you, my old man'

As he turns his back and starts moving away, i can only stand there, feeling heavy yet satisfied,
the fog around me started building up, and i was rapidly loosing sight of the scenery in front of me ' Old man, Old man!' but he could not hear me; i can hear the sounds of beeps and my body starts shaking gently....the beeps grow louder and i can hear a female voice saying "wake up Hesham, your gonna be late to work"....as i open my eyes i look at the alarm beeping next to me and look and her with a smile " was it a good dream" she said; 'It was' i said still half asleep, remembering the dream, i remember calling out at the end 'Old Man, Hey! old man, how did you know all of this? Tell me please'

The old man turns and looks again at me.... 'well! how else silly, I am the River, I am your RIVER''

For she...For her

....Ah yes! Valentine....
Although not a big fan of the day, the rituals or the word itself, today i let myself get in touch with my lovey dovey side, my romantic ego; which is something i rarely do or moreover share.

For her, i dedicate these naive simple words....

*while writing this i came to find that a free verse form will liberate my words to describe how i feel, break free from the shackle of meters and rhyme

For her, i owe love
For she made me enough
Laughs not spoken, bonds not broken
A heart that remained
Once was dead, now lives for her

For her, I'll burn the night
For she brings sense into my life
More of the lips i want to drink
Kisses that take my life away
A touch that burns
Flames it shall never die

For her, I am a better man
For she brings out the best i can
To harm and pain i will be
A shield to protect thee
Valentine not one but is 360 days
Where i prove my love in million different ways

For her, I'll do my best
For she is not like the rest
How it seems the rain feels her heart
Or how the wind listens to her every word
That pretty smile that lights my way
Shining so bright like the sun ray
A hi on the phone, that leaves me speechless
A whiff of her hair, renders me a mess
How she misses me, when i miss her more
Even the way she texts, oh so sweet
The way she laughs when i say a joke
Even that stare when i sip on some coke (cola)

For her i am born a new
For she already has my heart
To not go back to days so cold
To this feeling I'll firmly hold
Till we two become one
hopefully marry and have a son :D

And although words are sometimes cheap
Know that these are written with my heart
Mind and soul are now complete
For her, a path for me is set clear
For she is an angel, she is my dear.


*Seems i still fell under the rhyming power despite my efforts to be free

And a happy valentine to all.

Written!

It has been slightly over 4 months since i last sat and out of free will, decided to write something; 4 months since i last picked up my virtual pen, and jotted down what this head of mine has been thinking off.

But this self enforced sabbatical of mine, made me appreciate writing, made me miss it; and as i went on to read on and on for others, i felt every time brought me closer to writing again; it was not for the lack of thoughts, ideas or things to write about, but more about how i didn't feel like writing.

And now as i regain the feeling of awesomeness of the phenomena that is, words meets paper; the stupendous process of thoughts being translated into words; i come to find myself asking, why is it we write?

So why do we write!? why do we share thoughts, opinions, advises, stories and experiences through the written word, and not just use the word of mouth. And aside from the sole purpose of saving info or knowledge on paper; we tend to express our selves via written words more strongly and accurately than we do vocally.

I believe words say and have it all, you can express feelings otherwise unexpressed by sounds, written words are always true, no matter the pretense or the facade been put, you can always find parts of the writer in their own words; i myself have came to know some people better through reading their works; you see, you can never lie to that piece of paper in front of you; and why should you; you can show it love, happiness, joy, hope and it will accept it all, no questions asked. Similarly show hate and that white piece of paper will accept it, show it vengeance, ugliness, evil, perversion and it will still accept it all, also no questions asked.

We tend to use that generous nature of the white piece of paper, and we scribble on it all of our inmost desires and secrets, jot down all of our fears and hope, write in it our wishes and dreams; and use it to communicate with others of this world.

Words are magic; civilizations are written in history, and history is written in words, and if not in words, were drawn on walls. Written words are there to stay, to be constant, to always have effect.

I believe we write because we feel the power of the written words; reading words and hearing them are totally different, when we read the stories we live their worlds, we embrace the heroes, we become the words we read, imagination runs free, not limited by other senses of vision, touch, hearing or even smell. While reading, your world is the extent of your mind, and the mind can cross spaces of time and distance, bend realities and makeup new rules, that we actually can't do. When i read about war, i can imagine my own custom settings of that war, even with all details given to me by the writer, i still can manage to make it my own, while in films, you are limited to what your vision interprets to the brain, if you see a red tank, you cant convince yourself it's blue.

Writing is a matter that can be very intimate, like a journal or a personal dairy; or can be very public like a column or an article.

That brings us to the question at hand, why do we write? do we write, because we have something to say, or do we write because we have too, maybe we write because we have talent to do so, or we write because we just can, i know we definitely write so we can share, share our hopes and dreams, our failures and successes, share our falls and our raise, our defeats and victories, our hate and love, or simply just share our thoughts.

I write these words, to write, because i missed writing; i write these words to speak with all you reading this, i write these words to share my feelings.....

So why do YOU write?

Today!

Today, i sat in front of a small water fountain, the street at my back with cars passing by, while the wind blows a slightly coldish breeze at my face

Today, i sat in a small garden with a fountain, while the sun spread its glowing hue over the silhouette of 3 tall structures that threw its shadow upon me

Today, i had a notebook, i sat and i thought, i listened to the breeze and i felt the sounds around me

Today, i found a pen in my pocket, i toke it out and held it high and started gazing at it.

Today i wrote on some paper with my pen, and to my astonishment, the words were flowing as if the ink was shaping itself into words.

Today, was different! Today was nice.

Today i lost my notebook that i wrote in!!!

Today is still nice and surely different :D

Dead Space Game Review

Dead Space; is one of those kick ass games, which you know you will remember for a long period of time. Partially, because it nearly stopped my heart a couple of times, mostly because it is just that, KICK ASS.

Dead Space, follows the story of engineer (yes an engineer, after this game all engineers now kick ass) Isaac Clarke on a mission to the UGS Ishimura for repair, but of course things take a turn to the worse as they crash land on the ship, and are left stranded trying to figure what is going on….When you hear twinkle twinkle, little star playing in the background of a pitch dark and gruesome scenery…you know that something is gravely wrong and sick in this game.

The game takes you straight in action, you are met with bizarre creatures, and I do mean bizarre, they are fucked up, downright creepy, ugly and can scare the shit out of you, if they pop suddenly; and in this title, that will happen quite a number of times.

The graphics are stunning, the lighting is brilliant and drastically helps enhance the mood of playability, soundtrack is matching appropriately with the game pace.

The game play, just kicks ass, you have melee moves with both hand and legs, as well as different varieties of weapons and tools to just help you enjoy the game play more J We also have a couple of mini games for item rewards, one of them being a weird variation of basketball called X-ball…..!

The player is able to upgrade his rig, equipments and weapons in a place called ‘The Bench’ using power nodes, that conveniently you pick it up from what seems to be a PC case, you also get to shop at a store booth for items, suit upgrades and weapons

Did I mention the suits kick ass, they look amazing, gives the feel that you’re a bad ass
The interface with the save points, stores or the bench are all just kool, the menu is an innovative holographic window, a screen displays in front of you and you can continue playing while the windows is still open.

Storyline is simple till it nears the end, and boyaa; a twist and a surprise for the masses
The ending is bound to please everyone, and you can start a new game with all the stuff you had before

Finally, I would just like to add, this was one fun game, and will be definitely revisiting this one again soon

Rating*: KICKS ASSES (9/10 in laymen words)

*: The word represents the scale of rating from 1 to 10; every red letter is 1 point

Also to be noted the game had a series of comics before game release and now have an anime movie out titled Dead Space: Downfall

Game Trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NzdixdTFLg

Game links:
http://deadspace.ea.com/