Yahoo canceled yahoo 360. I had a private blog there that I shared with a few friends. I'll be reposting stuff from the old blog.
AUTHOR: DATE: 11/14/2006 14:18:09 -----STATUS: publish BODY:
i lost an entry i did this morning. a thought that i had when i first woke up. but no problem. i can think it again. maybe differently but the same still. so let me tell you... you? who are you??
oh now i remember some of the stuff i thought this morning, one of them was about why i use small 'i' instead of I when i talk about it.
By the way, this is not the main thought. the main thought was about poetry . or maybe i should say about ego.
I was thinking about people who with inflated ego who think they are poets or artists. They forget that a poet is a very deep word, poetry is not the chatter of someone's mind, or them venting , or them stringing together big words. poetry is something that you dont come up with . it comes up with you. it writes you...
هاليومين الكل شاعر.. كل ما حدا طلع كلمتين من تمه بيسميه شعر.. أغلب هالشعرا ما سمعو بمفهوم اسمه البلاغة.. و ما عندهم خبر كيف الفصاحة بيكون شكلها
يرحم أيامكم يا ربع عكاظ
انا ما بقول عن حالي شاعرة ... معاذ الله .. ولا بسمي اللي بكتبه شعر... في أسامي كتيرة الواحد ممكن يستعملها بدون ما يتعدا حدوده وحدود احترامه للغته
قولوا عني دقة قديمة.. مش مهم.. بفرقش عندي.. أحس ما أوهم نفسي وأتفرج على اللي عايشين في أوهام وقاعدين بيحطوا من قدر الشعر..
The divine nature of poetry . the sacredness of a poet. the poet ..the channel of the divine. the medium of god. not some kharabeet w khawater
على فكرة ... مره كنت عايشة فوق السحاب... سحاب صناعي.. أنا صنعته.. كنت كل ما بفكر فكرة بفكر حالي عبقرية بفكر حالي فيلسوفة ... مش اشي بحزن؟؟
It took me along time to realize how pathetic my situation was. and that i had no idea what I was doing , saying or thinking. I was just trapped in a little ego that has been domesticated in me. and that i had to assert for the longest time.
Fake clouds are very dangerous...
فن الأوهام
the art of self deceit
so...
the 'you' is whomever is watching me or my thoughts.. sometimes it feels like i am on a stage and there are these invisible beings watching me.. ghosts , angels, ancestors, the enlightened ones, etc..
there is God also of course . so I talk to YOU. Me also is another YOU .. my 'observer' . I am not sure if that is me or ME. i or I..
