Listless

I don't understand where my home is anymore.

Delirious Story Writing

Once upon a time there was a girl named Hankousha and a boy named Muzz. The young children were neighbours in a small village, and they used to play hide and seek in the forest beside their houses. Hankousha was very white - so white that when the sun was shining brightly, it would be hard to see her because she would blend into the sunlight. Muzz, on the other hand, was a hairy, gruff child who was a little bit scared of wolves, fires, and some kinds of birds.

Although the children were very different from one another, they still enjoyed one another's company every day after school. They would run home holding hands. Whenever they had to cross the street, Muzz would tighten his grip on Hankousha's hand and quickly run across to keep her safe. Even though he didn't say it, Hankousha had known Muzz was in love with her since they first met when Muzz's family decided to move to their town.

One day Muzz was sick and Hankousha didn't see him at school. As she hurried back from school to check on him, she ran into a duck covered in gold necklaces. She was shocked to see such a sight in the middle of a crowded street. So she stopped and asked the heavily adorned duck "ducky, why are you covered in gold?" The duck began to speak in a clear British accent saying "you see my child, ancient Egyptians used to worship me during the night..." she quickly interrupted "err, why just during the night?" The duck rolled its eyes and said "silly child, because they worshiped the sun during the day, so once the sun went down, they needed something to occupy their time." Hankousha stared at the duck incredulously. She began to doubt her sanity, so quickly continued on her path home.

Once she was home, she threw her school books on the table and told her mom she was going to visit Muzz. Her mother, who happened to be a very large fish who could magically walk and breathe regular oxygen turned to her and said: "okay honey, but don't be late because we're having your favourite food for dinner: chocolate-stuffed spinach!" Hankousha was happy that she would be eating the best food on the planet, but decided to visit Muzz first.

She skipped to his house in a pink and yellow dress, singing Mariah Carey songs out loud. She was out of breath by the time she arrived to his house and knocked on his door three times. She waited and waited but nobody answered the door. Now she started getting worried. She ran to the back of the house to see if they had left a window or door open. Luckily, she found a tiny opening in the window, so she transformed into a snake and slithered into the house. Once she was inside, she turned back into her pretty girly self and started looking around. The house smelled lovely, as though Muzz's mom had just baked cupcakes. But all the lights were off and it seemed like nobody was home. She ran upstairs only to find that all the beds were empty. She started to panic...what could've happened to Muzz? Where was he? Was he so sick that they had to take him to the hospital?

She ran down the stairs so she could race out the door to keep searching for him. Before she opened the door to leave, she noticed a note sitting on top of the dining room table. It had her name on it! She took it into her hands and opened it slowly, afraid of what she might find inside. As she unfolded it, she began to sweat and feel nervous...to her surprise, the note only had one word in it: "BOO." For a second, Hankousha was very confused. Then she felt two hands grab her violently by her shoulders, the fingers digging into her skin. She twisted to get away and a scream was right about to exit her throat when she saw the hands that were on her. They were a bit dark, hairy, and she recognized those nails that needed to be clipped. She turned around gasping, it was Muzz.

He grinned and said "boo."

why I can't write a book

My friend tells me that I should write a book. I suppose I could write a book(let). I tried to write a book in 2008 and I got writer's block after approx 700 words & I subsequently quit. I think I've gotten used to this blogging style of writing - i.e. short snippets of thoughts, random pictures, descriptions of moments or emotions...but no consistent thread to keep it all together.

I'm missing that brain thread. It's all ripped up in my mind and I'm not sure if I can make it proper again.

Anyway, what would I write about?

Every human being needs to feel useful.

To be loved is great, to be sought after...sure. To feel intelligent or worthy, okay. But the crux of it all is usefulness. Sure, you can be the smartest person on earth; but if you can't put that intelligence to work or do something amazing with it, then what's the point of even having it?

Usefulness is a base human need. Forget Maslow's hierarchy of needs or whatever other theories are emerging in your thoughts right now. A person needs to be useful. And right now, I feel useless. And that's on of the most destructive and suffocating states of mind a person can be in.

I'm choking on my uselessness.

How is it that I have absolutely nothing to say?

Baking up a Storm. A Fat, Fat Storm.

Inspired by Bake it in a Cake (basically the best website I have ever seen), I decided to try baking a Reese peanut butter cup into a chocolate cupcake:

It was amazing. That is all.

♥

The Latest Escapades of Randomly Placed

I was contacted to be a subject in a research project by a professor who happened upon my blog by searching something on Google. If that isn't random, I don't know what it. I love it!

Revolution & Egyptian Identity

For most of my life, I rarely attributed my characteristics or personality traits to being Egyptian. I had assumed my sense of humour was of my own making. I assumed my values, dreams, hopes all came from an amalgamation of being a Muslim and a Canadian. I didn't factor in my Egyptian roots.

Over the past two years or so, I've started becoming more aware of how my family's dynamics and my own personal traits have real roots in the Egyptian culture. When I first began to realize this, it was an interesting and almost frightening awakening. How could I have gone through my entire life nearly rejecting a part of my identity - not because I specifically disliked it, but because I truly believed it had no bearing on my life? It began to seem nonsensical to me. Perhaps it was because in the past 2-3 years I've made many more trips to Egypt than I ever had before. I made 3 separate trips to Egypt in 2010 alone.

Similarly, I still had this internal conflict with myself - was it Islamically right for me to be "proud" of my heritage. I always rejected this notion of national pride because I didn't believe that any one race was better than the other - and on that specific point, I know I am right. But the way it translated into my life wasn't right; I suppressed that identity, thinking it was more important to just be known as Muslim than anything else. And I still believe that is mostly right. But not all right.

I didn't give myself the chance to celebrate the unique identity that came along with such a rich culture. I think I've been missing out a lot.

This became even more clear to me after witnessing the bravery, confidence, unity, resourcefulness, and steadfastness of the Egyptian people over the past 18 days. I am both proud and incredibly humbled to claim Egyptian roots and heritage. I can only aspire to hope for the characteristics of both strength and the culture of humility that I have seen in the Egyptian people.

For the first time in 25 years, I can say with a clear sense of purpose and sincerity: I'm proud to be Egyptian.

Today I stabbed my gum while eating a sharp chip.