La nuit...

La nuit...

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Take me to that place

Holding the knife in one hand and tears filled with blood in the other. Staring at the piano, oh she’s falling. Take me to that place, she sighs as she’s lying down on the soil. Her veins withdraw. Madness they say when they see her. All that dirt with no ladder to climb. Stuck in that prison, there’s no way out. Laughs and laughs while jerkin off in vain. The preaching stops. Where are all those sins? Worship me when embracing the cello. I admire your peeling skin along with that melody. 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Medicine For Melancholy - Official Trailer

Are You Afraid to Be Alone?

Are we so scared of being alone that we’ll cling to almost any 
opportunity for a relationship that comes our way?
If you suspect fear might be a motivating factor behind your love 
life, take a minute to do an honest assessment.
Ask yourself the following questions and see if the scenarios ring
for you! 
You're afraid to be alone if…
1.You practice serial monogamy.
2.You’d rather settle for “good enough” than wait for “great.”
3.You’re panicked you’ll be single forever. 
**So what now? 
How do we change our situation? If you are ready to conquer your 
fear of being alone, here are the three things you must do:
1. Love yourself
2. Become self-sufficient
3. Don’t indulge in loneliness

Friday, May 10, 2013

Nicolas Jaar - "And I Say" (video)

A great song that I came across in a vintage boutique in Paris. 
Just beautiful !

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Bebe - Siempre me quedara.flv

Sublime.... Sensual.  

Great choreography!

Friday, April 19, 2013

Little Angel Flew Away

Flew away. 
Windy outside with some snow left scattered all over hoping to cover that hour’s filth in vain. 
Dropping the curtains along with your heartbeat that once was so strong, death took over.
Sharp stabbing pain and you flew away together with that beautiful melody.
The snow should have melted by now. There is nothing left to cover but a deserted womb.
I met you by chance.
Sad. The truth, that is.
You’re no more…
Reality has become my insanity.
Mine. Just like you were once mine and mine alone.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Take me with you

Take me with you

... I'll leave my soul behind

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Damien Rice - The Professor (Sommerfest 2010) Wrote some of the lyrics of that song that I liked

Loving is good if your dick's made of wood
And the dick left inside only half understood her
What makes her come and what makes her stay?
What makes the animal run, run away yeah
What makes him stall, what makes him stand...
 And what shakes the elephant now
And what makes a man?...
 And I walk away cause I can
Too many options may kill a man
Loving is fine if it's not in your mind
But I've fucked it up now, too many times
Loving is good if it's not understood...
Here's to another relationship
Bombed by my excellent breed of gamete disease
I finished it off with some French wine and cheese...

Monday, January 9, 2012


Is it true, what they say about Venice? Is it really the city of love and Romance? I don't really know about that. One thing I know for sure and that is when I was there summer 2011 on my birthday , I had never been happier my whole life. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was on a vacation  or that it was my birthday. I've been to other places before but nowhere else compared to Venice! I couldn't really tell what it was...  the food? the water? the hot air? the people? the music? All I can say is that I fell in love with this amazing city!

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Paris... What happened?

 I watched the movie" Midnight in Paris"the other night and the only thing that came up in mind was I wonder how much it would have cost them to clean up the streets in Paris just to make that movie! Plus I feel sorry for people who haven't been in Paris yet and actually watched it... I bet they got excited and booked a ticket to go, expecting to see the old, romantic and clean Paris like the one that they portrayed in the movie. Aren't they gonna get some kind of well lets say, Uhmm ...  a chock!

Friday, April 29, 2011

Little Miss Strange

Little miss strange, where ya goin’ ?

Ama goin’ to see ma baby, she says.

He ain’t there.

Sure he is.

He’s waiting fo' me there at the park. It’s dark but am gonna see  him coz ma baby whispered in ma ears last night while I was sleepin and told me that he missed me and wanted to see me at the other side of the lake.

There ain’t no lake where ya goin' and yer baby ain’t there coz u ain’t got yer baby no more.

Little miss strange I think ya lost.

I can’t keep ma baby waitin’. It’s getting late…

Little miss strange let me take ya back home…

Ma home is at the lake with ma baby.

We gonna swim, he said.

I ain’t leavin’…

Gonna swim with ma baby.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

In the Memory of Summer May 31-2009, When My Whole Life turned Upside Down...

Am I here? What is that?? Dreamland ?… Where am I? I don’t understand what’s going on...Where are you taking me? Who is she? Why are they all surrounding me and staring at me?

They keep on telling me that it’s summer time now. They open the curtains and I can see the sun outside. I get so confused. I don’t get it. What’s going on? What’s happening? Am I dreaming?

They ask me about my name…

They ask me what month it is and I don’t know what to reply… “Could it be some time in winter?”

“No!” They tell me that it’s summer time now. People are outside wearing dresses and eating ice cream and I’m thinking like oh my god shit! Summer moved on! I don’t get to enjoy my favorite season! Plus my vacation plan is ruined now! But what is it actually, the plan that is?? I don’t remember.

“Hush now! You have to sleep. It’s good for you. It has been too much for you today,” one nurse dressed in white says.

Who the hell is she and why is she telling me what to do with a fake smile?
A tall guy comes up to me and says," hey Patapouf!"
Who is he and why is he sitting on my bed, trying to talk to me and  why the hell is he calling me by some weird nickname?
I just stare at him...
“That’s Matthieu, darling. He’s your boyfriend .Well, actually you’ve been living with him for the past 2 years or 2 years and a half,” mom whispers to me as if she could read my mind and see the confusion in my eyes.

Oh!! Matthieu. I love him, right? Am supposed to right? I guess. I’m not sure. I should be able to remember that! Oh god!

Well, I’m tired now. I start closing my eyes. I guess it’s just too much information.

Next morning, same and same crap…

I open my eyes and I see that nurse with the same needle in her hand like every single fucking day, not that I remember though! Well, I guess I’m starting to now. I wish I’d forget at least that part! She leans forward and starts asking me the same fucking questions.

“Which day is it?”

“What’s your name?”

“Where are you?”

I’m in fucking hell! What do you think?! I keep on repeating those two sentences in my head gazing at the needle and her fake smile. I give her an evil eye and turn my back against the window.

She leans forward facing me to remind me again of where I am and of the date… And just like everyday I get shocked, confused and sad.

Shit! What happened? How did I end up here? Can somebody tell me? Oh please! God!

I close my eyes, feeling enormous pain. My hands hurt because of the needles and the thing that they put so you get liquid or nutrition or whatever.

I hear a voice and it’s Matthieu.

“Hey Patapouf,”  he calls me by that weird name again in a cheerful voice. His voice seems so loud and it irritates and bugs the shit out of me.

“I’m tired and I have pain. How do I look? Is there any mirror here?” I answer back.

Why are you here? Don’t look at me. You look too healthy and happy. You look good.  Just leave… Leave me alone! I want to be left alone! I don't want to see anyone. I'm sick of seeing happy and smiley faces around me.
That’s all going inside of my head. Of course, I don’t say that to him. I just look back at him and smile. He just sits there. Nurses and doctors come and go. He goes out for a smoke but of course he doesn’t tell me that since I’m not supposed to smoke because I have this fucking tube up my throat, plus no one even dreams of smoking anyways in my condition with or without the tube! I don’t even want to or feel like it.
He thinks that if he tells me that, he’d be tempting or luring me into smoking. I don’t know if that’s his own smart idea or if he had got it from my smart mom or other smart people around in the hospital. He comes back stinking cigarettes and sits next to me. Of course like everyone else, he keeps on asking me about how I’m doing. What a stupid question to ask!
What do they expect you to say? I feel great or I feel like partying now, so go get the fucking stereo and a bottle of Vodka so we could all party our asses off?!! I can’t even talk at this point and they expect you to answer that?!

I close my eyes, hoping I’d be able to rest but ofcourse that doesn’t work since I guess now happy hour and cocktail party starts; the whole family comes and surrounds meThey keep on asking me the same dreadful questions that I can’t answer They ask me about what I can or what they think themselves I should remember.

I guess I'm just as curious as them. Don’t they get it?!

Mom tells me that Jamal keeps on asking and checking up on me. She tells me that he is worried about me.
I have no idea who he is. She starts talking about him to remind me. I start to force myself to remember in vain. It just doesn’t work out. She says that he has been my best friend since childhood. I feel guilty that I don’t remember him especially after hearing that we've been very close and that he cares alot about me!
I start to get angry. There is a lot that I don’t seem to know about myself or about my own life. People are telling me stories about ‘me’!

At some point, I feel like they’re just telling me lies since I don’t seem to relate to any single word of what they’re saying!

Am I ever going to get my memory back?!!!

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

west beirut part 1

West Beyrouth is a Lebanese film that talks about the civil war in Lebanon. It is an exceptional movie! This scene part one is my favourite one. Watch it and you might figure out why I chose it in particular.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Ommi - Ummi (My Mother) أمي - مرسيل خليفة

This video is dedicated to the children, mothers and basically all the people of palestine "seen as terrorists" according to Israel and some western countries. These people are getting butchered everyday. They keep on calling for help but people keep on ignoring them... because they're weak and different just because they have a different religion and different beliefs and simply too weak to defend themselves... This is not only in Palestine!! No it doesn't stop there!!... This also goes on in other countries where higher power controls and decides over them! Power = ? Democracy?? Money? Human Rights=Equality or Slavery?
The song is sung by a Lebanese singer called Marcel Khalife

Thursday, December 16, 2010 eyes eyes
is in love with his cat
but he's such a brat
He has a killer smile
Yet he's not a bit close to be mine
Everytime he came to bed
he made my cheeks go red
He's a true fan of Mick
He'd always be there when I'd be sick
and his touch always gave me a kick
We'd sit for hours and chat
about me not being fat...
Matt once called me his pussy cat...

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Cedar Tree

 I wish I were a proud cedar tree standing high up on the beautiful mountains of a country that refuses to die. I wish I could have its needle-like leaves so I could be strong and able to defend myself against you.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Caramel - سكر بنا (Trailer) A Lebanese film by Nadine Labaki

Caramel (Arabic: سكر بنات Sukkar banat‎), the first feature film by Lebanese director/actress Nadine Labaki, is a 2007 Lebanese film. The film premiered on May 20 at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival, in the Directors' Fortnight section[3][4][dead link][5]. It ran for the Caméra d'Or.[6]

Caramel was distributed in over 40 countries, easily becoming the most internationally acclaimed and exposed Lebanese film to date. Audiences around the world have embraced the simple but effective story of five Lebanese women tackling forbidden love, binding traditions, repressed sexuality, the struggle to accept the natural process of age, and duty vs. desire. Labaki's film is unique for not showcasing a war-ravaged Beirut but rather a warm and inviting locale where people deal with universal issues.

Cries and Whispers(Scene from a Swedish film "Viskningar och rop" by Ingmar Bergman)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Cries and Whispers (Viskningar och rop)

Swedish theatrical release poster

Directed by Ingmar Bergman

Produced by Lars-Owe Carlberg

Written by Ingmar Bergman

Narrated by Ingmar Bergman

Starring Harriet Andersson

Kari Sylwan

Ingrid Thulin

Liv Ullmann

Inga Gill

Erland Josephson

Music by Johann Sebastian Bach

Frédéric Chopin

Cinematography Sven Nykvist

Editing by Siv Lundgren

Studio Svensk Filmindustri

Release date(s) United States:

21 December, 1972


5 March 1973

Running time 91 min.

Country Sweden

Language Swedish

Budget 1.5 million SEK

Cries and Whispers (Swedish: Viskningar och rop, lit. "Whispers and Cries") is a 1972 Swedish film written and directed by Ingmar Bergman and starring Harriet Andersson, Kari Sylwan, Ingrid Thulin and Liv Ullmann. The film is set on a mansion at the end of the 19th century and is about two sisters who watch over their third sister on her deathbed, torn between fearing she might die and hoping that she will. After several unsuccessful experimental films Cries and Whispers was a critical and commercial success, gaining nominations for five Academy Awards. This included a nomination for Best Picture, which was unusual for a foreign-language film.

Cries and Whispers returned to the traditional Bergman themes of the female psyche or the quest for faith and redemption. Unlike Bergman's previous films, Cries and Whispers uses saturated colour, especially crimson. It was for the color and light scheme that the cinematographer and long-time collaborator Sven Nykvist was awarded the Academy Award for Best Cinematography

Autumn Sonata/Höstsonaten Scene from a swedish film by Ingmar Bergman featuring one of my favourite actresses Liv Ullmann

Scene from The Passion of Anna


After the break-up of his marriage, Andreas Winkelman takes to a life of solitude on a bleak Scandinavian island. His neighbours are Elis, an architect, and wife Eva, who are taking care of Anna, a woman who recently lost her husband and son in a terrible car accident. Eva confides in Andreas that her marriage is a sham – Elis is only interested in his work and his hobby as an amateur photographer. After a brief affair with Eva, Andreas finds himself drawn to Anna. They have much in common – both are haunted by their past, and so it seems natural they should find comfort in each other’s company. But Andreas knows something about Anna’s past which leads him to think she is concealing the truth about her marriage...


Thursday, November 4, 2010

Chanel Kiss

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word.
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

                       By Oscar Wilde

Thursday, October 14, 2010

It's amazing how you can delete years of memories with one click on a keyboard...
It takes so long to build them
but so little time to get rid of them...
Every single photo has a story behind...
Just press delete on your keyboard and all the stories end up in the trash can...
then they just vanish...
the laughs,the tears,the love,the fights, the simple everyday nonsense... 

It's just as simple as that...

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Comment peut-on vivre aussi longtemps avec quelqu'un et ne pas savoir?

Comment peut-on vivre avec quelqu'un sans deviner un truc aussi fondamental?

C'est possible...

Il est possible d'aimer quelqu'un si fort ou de croire... qu'on l'aime si fort qu'on ne remarque rien. On décide d'aimer l'autre, d'avoir confiance en lui et on vit, et on est dans le train-train quotidien et...
Un jour, on sent que les choses ne sont plus comme avant, mais... C'est comme un signal lointain. Et quand tout se casse vraiment, je ne dis pas qu'on s'en doutait, mais plutôt, qu'on était ailleurs. C'est qu'on vit dans un rêve! Et puis le rêve meurt. Le rêve explose en millions de tout petits morceaux. Et il faut choisir! Soit s'accrocher, ce qui est intolérable, soit s'en aller et inventer un autre rêve.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Shadow of a soul

Nothingness and darkness are lightness
Life is the shadow of a soul
A soul that is invisible
Yet, there...

It's just like they say
Words are not loud enough
So,it's better off with silence

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

" I drink so I can talk to assholes; this includes me." Jim Morrison

 I don’t know where life is going to lead me. Maybe it’s going to lead me to hell.
All I know is that life is shit and you're my toilet...
                     Dedicated to a special someone...

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Full moon... Get me out ...

The sleet and the wind pound into my skin,the thunder shakes my bones.
The only things that i could notice out are thunder, sleet and wind...
They keep on getting stronger and stronger. Love is not supposed to be a comfort nor a refuge. It's like a torture device that drills and makes a hole in your heart after a while. People believe in ever lasting love but that doesn't mean that it exists.Well, maybe in fairy tales it does. You might see me as someone pessimistic.I'm just like any other person who just does not believe in fairy tales and stupid clichés anymore.

I have a cavity in my heart and a wound that overwhelms every fiber muscle and every cell in my body. You made everything in my body goes limp.

My heart beats strong and steady and the agony beats along with it.

At a time, I stop moaning and I open my eyes and through the deep well of tears resting atop them,I can see an escape.The steady moan goes away and my heart rests.

Then comes the silence of the night... I can't sleep thinking of what had happened,I clench my eyes and I bite down on my teeth, thinking my jaw might be breaking.I squeeze my hands. I flex the muscles in my legs and they hurt. My stomach muscles feel like they're going to collapse. My ribs feel like they're craving in on themselves and it hurts. My face is on fire and so are my veins in my neck. My brain becomes white and on its way to melt. My body is a broken machine. I can't breathe anymore from agony.

My arms are no longer my arms.
My legs are not my legs.
My chest is not my chest.
My face is not my face. It's a stone.
My body is no longer my body, no longer his.
Every single cell of my body feels as if it's going to explode from the force of pain.

"If there was a devil,I would sell him my soul to make it all end.If there was something higher that controlled our individual fates,I would tell it to take my fate and shove it up its fucking ass"-James Frey

Moving on...

Each step is more difficult than the last, each step hurts more. My heart keeps on beating with irregular strength. It holds when it needs to hold but I don't think it could hold for much longer.

The storm is now raging.The wind is whipping sheets of frozen air and sleet through the air.The sky is black. There is shattering thunder and shocks of lightning. My heart beats irregularly again and it hurts.

This is not the life that I want or who I want to be. I have tried to change but I have failed. I'm worse than I have ever been before. If there was a light at the end of the tunnel, i would run to it.
There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

I'm tired beyond exhaustion and I close my eyes. It is dark. I look at my phone and i feel like i want to break it into pieces. I want to get out of here, all of that! But, I can't seem to be able to do that physically nor mentally.
If I can't do with the help of my own body,at leastI want to do it in my mind.I need to get out of this!
I need to get out of here...

Get me out of here!

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Spirit of Life

In that year there was an intense visitation of emptiness.

I left hospital and school and went to a planet named after me.

I slept on a bed of polluted air.

There was that night…

When I woke up and saw the moon becoming the shadow of a man’s face.

At that moment I met the spirit of life.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Quotes I like

Love is like chocolate
you eat too much of it
it loses its taste

To love one another is a poker game

Depending only on one other than your own
is like digging your own grave

To admit being insane makes you sane

Knowing the truth
is like getting injected with poison

Lies have become an everyday routine

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Broken Hopes

A mysterious  bird with broken wings flies
He stops for a minute and cries
All alone he looks around and  stares
He thinks that this can not be fair
His wings can never be the same
His life would never be the same
He has no one anymore
All he has left are his broken wings and hopes
Yet he still flies
Yes , differently
but he still flies
He still has his wings
He leaps on the back and floats of the wind downstream
How can this not be fair?!

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

From Israel to the children of Lebanon with love( by Israeli children) Stolen Childhood!

The messages sent by the Israeli kids read:
Dear Lebanese/Palestinian/Arab/Muslim/Christians-kids,
Die with love.
Israeli kids

Instead of an armed conflict,the Israeli-Lebanon war(2006) was a war of the children. The Israeli children in the image above were leaving missiles with their taunting messages (which can be considered as a slap on the face of humanity and the elder generation.
During that war, almost one third of the Lebanese who have lost their lives were children. FOR WHAT?
Where were the international organizations then?

What struck me personally was when I typed Lebanon on Wikepedia and read the part about the wars in general that went on in Lebanon. All I found were  two wars , the civil war (1975-1990) and the war (2006) between Israel and Lebanon!! HEHE
I think the media did a good job there by hiding so many facts! What about the war 1993, 1996 and so on...?  War of  1996 marked Lebanon with the Qana massacre commited by Israeli soldiers. You can find this information though in Wikepedia if you type special terms or words, but not when you type Lebanon, lebanese history and the part mentioning " wars" which occured in the history of Lebanon. I guess they're just not considered to be important enough. Once again, media has no shame in manipulating facts and history keeping thousands of people ignorant by hiding the truth.
This is not only about Lebanon and its wars!

Friday, May 7, 2010

When life passes beneath your eyes, every single detail comes to your head.You drown in your tears.Every ordinary thing, an everyday thing becomes a major strong feeling that takes over you, gets your knees weak.You stand there, not knowing what to do or say,silence takes over you. You see images, sketches,faces, laughter,sadness, his eyes looking at you when you're laying down on the floor. You don't understand what's going on.His eyes keep on staring at you and you see his mouth moving. He's saying something but you can't hear it. The sound in your ears is too loud and everything seems to fade away. His tears in his eyes gets you confused.You don't want to sleep again because you can't bear seeing him shed any more tear. You take a deep breath and your body surrenders. There's nothing you can do about it. You start opening your eyes slowly and everything seems so bizarre.You see him standing there still, next to you trying to force a smile. The image is not clear.It's all blurry and grey.You try to open your mouth, get some words out. You want to tell him that everything is okay and that you don't want to see him cry, but you can't get to reach out to him because not a single word seems to get out. He looks at you confused. "Baby", he says."what are you trying to say?" A tear drops down on your cheaks. He can't hear me. I guess I can't talk. You try to smile but that doesn't work either.You look around you and you see so many people surrounding you and asking you all kind of questions. All you want to do is let him take you back home.Baby what are we doing here? Take me back home.

Friday, April 9, 2010

So what?

So what? ( A phrase by Andy Warhol)
It's raining
So what?
Take your umbrella
My dog died
so what?
Just burry him
My partner cheated on me
So what?
Go party
My boyfriend dumped me
My girlfriend dumped me
So what?
Go dancing
So what, so what , so fucking what?
Move on...

Enjoy your misery
Party your sadness away
Drink your tears
Laugh at tragedy
Don't waste your time
Love and leave
Don't look back
Past is past and future will be future
Look around and smile
Nothing is worth to be sorry for
Anything can be everything

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


And I don't know what to say
Just time
Just like sand
It drifts away
Waves come and go
They disappear but not for long
They keep on coming back
Never does
It just drifts away
But memories stay
They are the waves in the sea of life
They appear and disappear
Happiness comes and goes
Beauty vanishes
Youth slips away
Brain swells
They say that you get wiser
Is it another way of saying that you get uglier?
They say that the older the wine is,the better it is
the better it tastes

I often wonder why I got sick
why my brain burst
Did life fill it up
to the extent that it exploded and gave up?
It came back to me though
Ready to fill up new data
There's a storage limit in computers
A certain amount of gegabytes
They say that the more GB the computer has,the better it is
Does that apply to people?
Does the excess of life experience make them better?
Or does it just damage their brains?
We come and go too
We are memories,waves,data and gegabites

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

My favourite Oscar Wilde quotes

“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”

“Art never expresses anything but itself.”

"All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.”

"Long engagements give people the opportunity of finding out each other’s character before marriage, which is never advisable."

"Plain women are always jealous of their husbands. Beautiful women never are. They are always so occupied with being jealous of other women’s husbands."

“They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever.”

“Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.”

"The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything, except what is worth knowing."-- “The Soul of Man Under Socialism”

"A man who moralizes is usually a hypocrite, and a woman who moralizes is invariably plain."-- “Lady Windermere's Fan

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Would You ?

If I would speak your language would you speak mine?

No, you wouldn’t

If I tell you that I can and will fly

Would you try to fly with me?

No, You would tell me NO

You don't have wings

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Pure Insanity

Sun symbolizes hope. When you're sitting in the park and all you can see is the sun;Deep inside of you, you have no hope left so, sun becomes evil.Daytime follows sun which makes daytime a sinner and an evil follower.. At night it gets better, darkness takes over to match and express my inside. I can pretend and lie to people by saying that I can still see you, since no one could say the opposite. It would be too dark to spot right from wrong.Sleeping is my only option and dreams are all I have got left. How can I see you otherwise?! There's no hope,no light.The smell of your T-shirt has faded away just like your body.. But still, my body has never begged me as much for your touch, your hug,your kiss,your mouth and your dimples that you got everytime you smiled... Simply I yearn for your existence. They say time heals but all i can see is that time is another devil that(who) stabs you slowly and smoothly till the sharp knife gets deep and deeper inside and cuts every vein in your heart,till your heart just surrenders and stops beating.You stop breathing. I lived off your breath once.

Reality is insanity and loving you hasn't been real (Reality is insanity thus insanity is reality)
But now,Loving you has become reality and holding on to you is just pure insanity

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Say Goodbye

You'll never see me cry

Diss me,I'll smile
Curse me,I'll laugh
Leave,I'll close the door
Kiss me, I'll wash my mouth
Say goodbye
Stay close,
Just waste your time
I can always get another piece of meat
Hate me
Love me
There's nothing left to break
I don't even have to fake
My heart is made of stone
I got no more soul
Don't forget to close the door

Saturday, November 21, 2009

The Cold Cup of Coffee

I should have picked up the phone that night but no! I wanted to go to bed, wanted to sleep. I was so tired and sleepy.
“My baby is gone. He went out that night. If I could have just answered the phone! Where is my baby?” She moaned all alone in the dark, in their bedroom. What was she going to do now? She couldn’t breathe anymore. Her bones ached. Her baby was gone, nowhere to be found. She took out his t-shirt, the one that’s torn. It was the one that she has cut when they had a big fight. She was confused and lost. The t-shirt smelled like him, as if it were him on her body keeping her warm. She put it on and laid her head down on the pillow that smelled just like him, the same old pillow on which his head was laying on just 1 day ago. It was the small pillow that she has given him instead of the big, fluffy and comfortable one that she wanted to keep for herself instead. So, she ended up taking the big fluffy one. She told him that she liked it better. He didn’t mind. She looked at the pillow with hatred and remorse, the scissors in her hand; she started shredding it till she couldn’t anymore. “I don’t need it anymore, darling. You can sleep on it and I’ll take the old one,” she said with remorse and the feeling of guilt haunting her. If she would have just given him the big comfortable pillow! She lies down, with tears dropping from her eyes, hoping tomorrow would be a different new day.
She wakes up in the morning like usual by the annoying techno alarm tone. She gets up and prepares herself to go out to the boulangerie (bakery) like she usually does every Sunday morning. She puts on her best clothes first and then after, she puts the mascara, foundation and the red lipstick on, like she always did.
There at the bakery, she asks for two croissants.
“How’s your chéri doing? Is he still in bed like usual? One of the days he has to wake up early and get you croissant for exchange. Say hi from me. He’s such a darling,” the sweet lady in the boulangerie says.”
“I don’t mind. I love doing that myself.” She sighs and nods with her head.
She smiles with the fakest smile she has ever given and then she walks back…
Back at her place, she puts the croissants and pours two cups of coffee, waiting for her baby to wake up. After a while, she drinks her coffee and eats the croissant.
The other cup of coffee gets cold… She smiles. It’s not the first time she prepares him coffee in the morning and it gets cold. Her baby is still sleeping, a long deep sleep

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Frying Pan

The dirt is stuck and doesn't seem to go away...

It'll take a lot of time, effort and probably also a lot of baking soda to get this grease off that frying pan.

Am I it? 

Am I also that grease stain on that huge frying pan?

Rub me off ?

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Blindness Film "Cannes film festival 2008 opening night"

"The only thing more terrifying than blindness, is being the only
one who can see."


Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Unsaid, the untold ...

So Why were u silent when you were asked to tell the truth? Why didn't you cry when someone could see you ? Why didn't you scream out for help when people were around you? You stood still...

You're a grown up now... You have to learn to keep secrets. You can't always scream out loud!You have to let go. You have to be silent! No time for your drama!

What would have happened if you spoke out, that day, the other day and the day just after that day ?? Do you ever think of what might have happened?

If he could have just read my face that day.. Not only he but him too and she..

She's an adult now. She has to be silent. She can't say what she wants to say. She has learnt about pride, denial, consequenes of actions, responsibilities...

That was what stopped her . If she could only be a child again, and cry when she's hungry or scream when she feels threatened..

No, my dear! You have to keep it to yourself. A woman's heart is a big dark cave full of secrets and untold stories.

She sits and dreams that one day everything would be told., the she would say the unsaid and tell the untold...

One day, I'm going to be a child again!

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Marilyn " Her Life in her own words " By George Barris

This is one of the photos taken by George Barris

I've been reading Marilyn " Her Life in her own words " and to all of you Marilyn Monroe fans , this is so far the best book I've read about Marilyn!!! She does speak in her own words in that book just like the title says.

At the bottom of the page, George Barris ( who was one of Marilyn's photographers) analyzes and writes about his side of the story.

Springtime In Paris

Why do I stay?
Where I live, we have a sweet woman who works as a " gardienne" in the building. She takes care of the building and the cute garden. We don't have a mail box "boite aux lettres" , so she climbs up to the 4th floor everytime I get a letter or a package. I see her watering the plants everyday . She makes me happy. " How are you feelin,Sofi ? I've noticed that you have been sick or I love your new hair color." She gives me advices and tells me to stop writing the code of the main entrance door on my adress, so the whole building wouldn't get robbed! (hehe which is something i always do) I'm thinking like, if they don't have the code, how are they gonna get in the building and deliver the package? hehe and she' s like that's my job.." but Sofi you gotta stop doing stuff like that.."

I find that so cute and so adorable, this side of Paris. It takes you back to the 50's or 60's; and I'm a fanatic of that time..

Then there's this guy in my area who plays jazz with his friend. I love it when they pass by my place and play for hours.

It's the cliché of Paris, the old Paris that makes me stay. I'm a dreamer, I'm hanging on to the old Paris.

You gotta dig hard, but you'll find it somewhere...

Edith Piaf, Sous le ciel de Paris

Friday, March 27, 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

J'aimerais bien être une imbécile , une abrutie , tarée.. débile..

Je suis triste car je ne suis pas bête

Je suis malheureuse car je ne suis pas une abrutie

Je déprime car je n'arrive pas à être débile

I could be stupid, ignorant, simple, naïve, a big idiot...

Ce n'est pas juste d'être belle car tu n'auras plus le droit d'être moche.

Si J'étais moche et bête .. j'aurais été satisfaisamment belle et Intelligente
Je ne veux plus savoir

Je ne veux plus comprendre

Je ne veux que dormir

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Snow 2009 -Paris in the park - 18ème arrondissement

I'm falling apart!

Paris!I'm seriously getting insane! I am on my way to definately lose it! Dans le mètro, la grève , ligne 13, ligne 9 early in the morning.. MY head is going to explode soon. I'm that close to start hearing voices. Well so far, I'm getting paranoid , disgusted and seriously disturbed. I get weird thoughts and ideas sitting on that subway, or let me rephrase that, by sitting i mean standing or fighting to not get smashed and squashed by the other 500 stinky people early in the morning. I'm like 164 cms tall if u know what i mean .So I get to my university, and what a surprise! No classes again. I make a 2 hour trip to get to that old fashioned paris descartes 5 university and to my surprise, yet another demonstration.( Grève, blockage de la fac)etc,..
I take the subway, line 9 again.. People sitting there poking their noses and throwing the crap everywhere on the train . Some stink curry mixed with some dirty old sweat, some stink heavy serious stuff and I'm the only one with sense and sight. I am the only one who seems alive!

So finally on my way back, I manage to get a seat. A man comes and sits just facing me. He seemed pretty normal in the beginning until he started talking to himself and mumbling in like arabic, sounded like the qu'ran or something. He had his hand on his forehead and he was crying.. I started to freak out!! I was like oh my god, is he gonna blow us all up now? I get paralyzed and keep on staring at him then staring at other people. No one seemed to care. They were all sitting busy doing nothing . So i start to get paranoid! What if this train blows up soon ??!! No one actually seems to care. That makes me even more paranoid! Am i the only person who sees stuff? Hello am I in a david Lynch movie here ??§§ Am i the only person on this fucki ng train ? The train keeps on moving and the man keeps on doing his thing. Am I GOING INSANE HERE?? what's the difference between the abnormal, the insane and the sane?? Well , I haven't started hearing voices yet but i do feel like i'm livin all by myself in that head of mine... Paris is falling apart... Demonstration... first snow in 20 years.. Nicolas sarkozy... Terrorist groups... pooor subway .. stinky over populated areas of all kinds of people...
I finally got off the train!

Wednesday, January 7, 2009


2009! History repeats itself, once again!

2009 ... Ehud Olmert , the prime minister of Israel has become our 2009 Hitler
What an Irony, yet a big tragedy!
Gaza, the new Aushwitz laughs at the irony . You would think that after that horrifying genocide and massacre that Mr.Evil Hitler has committed 69 years ago, people would have learned. I look back at that time, and i'm so shocked to see how cruel and uncivilized those people were. They were like pure blood sucking savage beasts with no morals and no sense of humanity .Yet somehow, a couple of days just after the world has celebrated the coming of a new year 2009 with all the technology, the internet and the civilization we think we have, the war on Gaza starts and we are right back to 1940. Some people do not seem to be able to progress . 69 years later and the victims want to revenge, apparently on the wrong people. Palestinians are the 2009 Jews, GAZA becomes Aushwitz and hitler impersonates in Ehud Olmert. The only difference this time is that it's not a secret, people know of what is going on but what do they do ? The genocide goes on ... It's being justified in so many ways... terrorists they say,, yeah those 350 women and kids I'm pretty sure.
We have to act civilized and humanitarian .. It is 2009 , no longer 1940.. .Time to act....

Saturday, November 29, 2008

He asked me to tell him a story, share something with him.

He asked me to tell him a story, share something with him.

So, I told him about the walks , the cold, the lights out on the street s on a late summer night in Paris, about the cafés where we used to go, about the art, about the silence. I remember snow back in my hometown and I remember the tanning salon. Then I remember him in his jeans and his shoes; his big eyes staring at me and yet he never talked. WE walked and I talked about our house, our dream house and all the stuff we were going to have. I was lost. I was happy but lost. I made him my universe and my existence. The world I created was perfect and yet so different from the real world. There was a clash. A lost soul, a young woman in need for fulfillment meets a man of no words... She creates a life and he creates an empty space. They wander in the streets of Paris...

This is the story about the girl who is never satisfied , the girl who lives on her own. The girl who struggles everyday to achieve something. She strives everyday to get out of bed. No connection to the outside world; he was her way out.

His eyes and his shoes are what I keep on thinking about. So full and yet so empty. A man of no words is what he should be called, a man who is not a bit close to being clear, a man on his own.
The city is big, and the streets are cruel. The language falls like knives on my chest..

She leaves and he cries, then he leaves and she cries. She wants to have a fight and love him at the same time. She wants to beat him yet hug him so hard. He wants to leave and wants to stay. He wants to make her his goddess yet he longs to disappear .
She shouts and talks but he doesn’t listen. He leaves. Then, She leaves. They see each other , they hug , they shout , they cry and then she leaves . She comes back , shouts and then he leaves so she leaves again. She walks on the street back to she doesn’t know where, while he leaves back to his place. They look back and there’s the unbearable pain. Silence. She cracks. She bleeds. She burns.
She’s in terrible pain. Come back but leave me then, she says. I want you so bad as bad as I want to be free. I am sick of obsessing about you but oh dear god how much I love you. So much pain and no way to express , she goes home, smells his top take a knife and cut it to pieces. She beats herself, walks into doors, screams, and then she falls down and cuts her hair. He is gone...

Oh come back my beloved. I miss your dark eyes and your total emptiness.

Paris, keep on cursing me, let me be close to what you call he, and yeah laugh at me. Send your streets to eat me and suck me back to your hell, for my body is burning and no wind is cooling. The shoes are mocking me while the streets are still empty.

I tell him to leave and he leaves. I hate him for leaving and still, I keep on walking…

Maybe I want to have a baguette after all...

The over rated precious baguette can’t seem to leave her mind. She can’t figure out the thing with this baguette , the famous baguette of France. Baguette has such a name and high status. It is well known, recognized and highly respected. She tries to solve the mystery...
Baguette gives her constipation and the dough clings to her thighs. Should that really be the action of the respected famous baguette? She wonders.
Then again, the smell of the fresh baked baguette gives her an illusion of a dream, of pure heaven. The smell captures her and grabs her tight. The smell is far away from the truth for the truth is simple; Miss baguette is evil. Miss baguette is nothing like she seems to be or what she wants you to think she is. Miss baguette bewitches you the same way Mr. Heroin charms his customers.
An illusion might outwit reality. An illusion might be what she needs. Should she give up to the illusion or should she fight the constipation? She wonders.
The dough crawls into her thighs as she walks. Feeling so bloated , she smells it again. Oh the beautiful illusion! Oh the smell of heaven!
Still bloated, she surrenders to evil and buys herself another fresh baked baguette.