tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72870207730747330822011-12-28T14:25:21.480+02:00On Life and the LikeYoumnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.comBlogger581100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-78000087236170153922011-12-23T00:49:00.001+02:002011-12-23T00:49:29.608+02:00

The only solution that makes sense is a communist Egypt. All political prisoners will be set freed, all prisoners for that matter. The judicial system will be replaced by “do it yourself” justice, which will make thieves and criminals afraid of civilians. Cairo will be abandoned for Aswan, where the new capital will be, as has been decided by the first-ever Nubian president supported by his

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-50656019291494021962011-12-18T04:33:00.000+02:002011-12-18T10:25:01.058+02:00

“Non… rien de rien… non, je ne regrette rien” declares Edith Piaf with her unmistakable voice. I beg to differ. Now it’s crystal clear that we all make mistakes. There’s no argument there. But, to simply say that one shouldn’t have regrets… now that’s too much to ask for. Why shouldn’t I have regrets? It doesn’t make me any less of a person. Mistakes are inevitable, but learning

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-7677314164961705432011-12-15T10:13:00.001+02:002011-12-15T10:13:53.171+02:00

Who am I seeking recognition and acceptance from? Who should I seek recognition and acceptance from?

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-70934903861609131962011-12-12T23:33:00.000+02:002011-12-12T23:33:45.409+02:00

We should. We are programmed to survive, and we are programmed to be aware that at some point, we won't. Our instincts adhere to the former and our soul adheres to the latter. If you only hear your instinct and not your soul, you will live like an animal. If you only listen to your soul, you'll live like an angel. We are neither, and we are unfit for extremes. But, there are many times where we

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-21514025745376010112011-04-24T03:08:00.000+02:002011-04-24T03:08:48.325+02:00

ks  Immerse yourself in the beautiful, confront and acknowledge the ugly, and remember that you’re a part of all of it and that none of it will last. <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--><!--[if !supportLists]-->·         <!--[endif]-->If home is where the heart is, then my heart’s scattered all over the place… and time. <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--><!--[if !

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-49727209892494444912011-01-10T15:49:00.000+02:002011-01-10T15:49:15.720+02:00

I will find my way through this in sha Allah. I will think all I want, and I will come to terms with all the conflicting perspectives one way or another. There is so much I can't grasp, even the facts I know, somehow I can't just fully grasp and process them yet. There are enough pending, unanswered questions in my life. I will not let this be one of them. I do not have the privilege of

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-70848875361401739692011-01-04T00:41:00.000+02:002011-01-04T00:41:12.974+02:00

I will always love you and remember you, the way I know you, the way you were... not the way people want you to be. You were always humble, honest, and faithful. I am powerless against those selfish enough to take advantage of your memory and name.  People who are true, love you for the angel you were and will be. This is all that matters to me now. Your beauty will stay with me, not their hatred

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-41382377539199248182010-12-14T03:12:00.000+02:002010-12-14T03:12:42.016+02:00

Today, for the first time in a long while, I felt alive. Really alive. We had a guest lecture today at by Prof. Dr. Steffen Stelzer, the Dean of the HUSS Faculty at the AUC. I knew I was going to enjoy it, even though I had pulled an all-nighter and turned out to be much more behind in my paper than I thought I would. What I didn’t know, was just how euphoric it would make me feel.Technically, he

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-38170826162796322262010-12-01T00:54:00.000+02:002010-12-01T00:54:36.746+02:00

Isomorphism I stumbled upon this word in my "Organizational Change" course book. You know when you fall in love with a word that you keep on repeating it in your head? I do that a lot. In the book it is used in the context of organizational change; it refers to the similarities that occur in organizations in an industry that has been around for a while... think schools, how they are all

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-67226564048926444732010-11-16T23:32:00.000+02:002010-11-16T23:32:47.081+02:00

Anything could be something; except for nothing. Nothing really is the lack of… everything. Everything is not anything… it is all the sum of all the possibilities of something. something can’t exist without cancelling out or eating up another something. It is thus impossible for all the possibilities of something to simultaneously exist and create everything. Everything will never happen at the

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-15041157827782519542010-11-15T02:38:00.001+02:002010-11-15T20:50:51.726+02:00

I really hope this is inspired by the goodness of the first ten days of Zul-Hejja month… I discovered something really beautiful about Islam. It has been there all along but I have only come to realize it just recently. This religion is so… innate. It takes human nature, and makes the best out of it. God knows best how imperfect we are, yet He gives us the opportunity to repent, to correct the

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-72367604991844470592010-11-04T22:48:00.000+02:002010-11-04T22:48:29.424+02:00

People who genuinely don’t care never make the effort to express that. Whoever cares will act the part, even when they don’t feel like it. Whoever doesn’t isn’t even aware of the fact that there’s a role to act. A secret is not something between a maximum of two people. A secret is something between one human being and God. Anything else has an expiry date on it. Most of our problems (yes,

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-37328661593198070982010-11-02T20:56:00.001+02:002010-11-02T20:59:51.388+02:00

It's kind of ironic how people get so restricted in their pursuit of freedom; concentrating so much on wanting to be free without knowing what they'd do if they ever get to be free. Fighting blindly for freedom without knowing why you really want it is just like gearing up an army without knowing what you're fighting for/against: Pointless. On a different note, it's utterly ridiculous how it's

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-81801330433736160242010-10-15T13:41:00.000+02:002010-10-15T13:41:29.287+02:00

Think of the most important person and the most important thing for you in this life. If the above are taken away from you, what is left? If there is something left of you ...that’s who you actually are. If you want to be super sure, slice away the next important people and things. Rinse and repeat.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-45796324620769806982010-10-08T00:41:00.000+02:002010-10-08T00:41:26.673+02:00

Our mistakes define us. All we can do is not to settle for this definition. It doesn’t only last because it’s real. Many lives, relationships, and ideas last for other reasons. Whatever stands the test of time, could be limping, invisibly and irreversibly. It’s funny how, a year from now, very little things of what I care about the most will still be in the centre of my attention… let alone

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-51064757212840153652010-09-17T02:04:00.000+03:002010-09-17T02:04:24.095+03:00

·       اتقى صبر الصابر اذا نفذ!! ·       ماله الرقص على السلالم؟ مهما كان صوتك وحش و رقصك غبى ماحدش هايقدر يقول لك حاجة و هتبقى ال King و زى الفل. ·       الباب اللى تجيلك منه الريح... افتحه و اخلص عشان الريح وراك وراك. ·       المشكلة مش ان ديل الكلب عمره ما يتعدل ... المشكلة انك ماتكونش شايف انه كلب.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-19411585798475280752010-09-14T20:41:00.000+03:002010-09-14T20:41:24.450+03:00

.خسارة جدا انك تقف بين ايدين ربنا و تتمنى حاجة من غير ما تدعى انه يباركلك فيها

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-57289403816338326172010-09-12T01:18:00.001+03:002010-09-12T01:25:41.191+03:00

There's the truth, and it's everything. But, everything means nothing to us. Everything is indiscriminate. We spend our lives discriminating because that's the one thing we can do. They treat you as a grown up when you're 21. Mentally, we never really reach that age. We probably never should. You can never outsmart time. Anything you learn too effortlessly is bound to be forgotten sooner than

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-91646028601991763432010-09-11T15:58:00.000+03:002010-09-11T15:58:52.092+03:00

I write because i can, because i want, need and have to. The process of putting words together, creating sentences, building arguments is but an attempt to capture thoughts and feelings flying around, lingering heavily or hiding where they can't be found and decoded. It's overwhelming how endless it seems to be; chasing after what never stops flying,  breathing life into what never emerged, and

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-21212719496467555792010-09-10T19:30:00.000+03:002010-09-10T19:30:55.416+03:00

Maybe it’s because I’ve been (intentionally) watching too much TV for a while and have been keeping social interaction to a minimum number of people and time, but I’ve been having these ideas and questions… Have you ever noticed in those apocalyptic movies how it’s always a dozen of people who actually know what’s going on and are risking their lives to save the day (and the world) while the

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-79989525500800143852010-09-08T02:09:00.000+02:002010-09-08T02:09:47.679+02:00

I'm supposed to have gone to the dentist a couple of months ago. I haven't yet. I'm supposed to have dealt with a lot of problems, solved them and moved on a while ago. I haven't yet. I believe in facing your demons, in acknowledging what I have no control over and what I can't change. I believe in acting upon that. I haven't yet. I'm supposed to know how to deal with that anger, face it, know

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-50487328616737619622010-09-08T02:03:00.000+02:002010-09-08T02:03:07.450+02:00

t's like I'm on a racetrack of superfast cars.  I'm there, all alone.  No audience, no cars, no race; just me standing there in the middle of something huge that just hasn't happened yet. Just me not knowing whether I got there earlier than everyone else or whether the race is over and done with long ago.  And there's no one there to tell me, even though I can hear the sound of those

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-19926279935496667602010-08-20T04:56:00.000+02:002010-08-20T04:56:58.013+02:00

Sometimes you need to take things out of context to see them for what they really are.  Context gives you the excuse to dramatize, rationalize, twist and bend what – isolated from context – is quite too ugly.  Put in context, world wars and atomic bombs don’t sound as grotesque and absurd as they really are.  Put in context, decadence could be considered art.  Put in context, you can make people

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-47703814726605019472010-08-08T19:26:00.000+03:002010-08-08T19:26:42.056+03:00

So, I cut off the pieces of you that don’t rhyme with me, and pretended that the pieces left are whole, that the fragments left are a poem.  A poem that’s nice to read, a poem I made up. You’re not a poem, though. You’re nothing close to one. Then again, neither am I. We probably never met.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-45652224717566405122010-08-07T06:23:00.001+03:002010-08-08T19:34:55.843+03:00

Not that I assume that I know how to handle life any better than any other creature, but I've learned this: If you don't draw a line, you won't find it. Avoiding the process of drawing lines isn't as time- and energy saving as you think. Believe me, sooner or later you'll need that line... badly or things will stop making sense. It's called 'drawing the line' and 'crossing the line' for a

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-28269806938409174742010-08-04T17:03:00.000+03:002010-08-04T17:03:36.376+03:00

I’m not depressed.  I’m not sad.  I’m just estranged.  Maybe I’m not even estranged because I manage to neutralize any feeling or sentiment I get instantly these days. I don’t believe anyone can fully know someone else because no one is fully aware of who they are. We suppress (or manipulate) the things we don’t like about ourselves in such a way that we don’t recognize them anymore. At least I

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-62188886778394336222010-07-22T11:58:00.000+03:002010-07-22T11:58:45.980+03:00

Q: What drives any progress of any kind? A: Ego.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-5166662604569947002010-07-06T02:17:00.000+03:002010-07-06T02:17:18.821+03:00

Try Something Old! You know how people say that you should “try something new” and experiment a little, find out something you didn’t know; explore some new domains of well, whatever? This time, I want you to try something old. Rolled your eyes yet? Well, don’t. Here’s what I did: I dug up – yes, literally dug up and dusted off- my old stereo; that old stereo people who grew up in the 1990s and

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-37800350078137245942010-07-03T23:55:00.002+03:002010-07-04T00:19:05.985+03:00

It scares me that I don’t miss you. It’s a relief, to some extent. It just makes me think that maybe I didn’t need you at all; that maybe our friendship is more of a convenience for you and a burden on me.  Not everything that is real has to last. Not every friendship lasts because it’s real. Without even realizing it, I made a mental 180˚ away from you. I might shift back, but I can’t bother

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-70287197905038220522010-06-29T19:17:00.001+03:002010-06-29T19:58:36.247+03:00

I don’t like to settle. But, I do it all the time. When you settle, you lose something. What you lose goes somewhere else, it’s not yours anymore. Not yours to control, not yours to hold on to. When people see that you settle, they tend to misuse and count on that. I don't blame people who expect me to settle, because most of the time they don't see why I settle. As long as you know why you are

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-25293290443447788662010-06-22T03:17:00.000+03:002010-06-22T03:17:07.102+03:00

Breathe it out, damn it.  Some things/people deserve nothing more than breathing them out; out of your mind; out of your system; out where they can no longer screw things up for you; out where you can see them best for what/who they really are. They won’t get out easily, but eventually, the big bulk of them will be. The more you breathe out, the less baggage you'll have. Breathing alone won't do

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-68679047810522231192010-06-04T23:49:00.003+03:002010-06-07T01:04:35.270+03:00

You can always ignore the intangible. You can always choose not to think further. You can always choose not to work those grey cells in your brain. There are countless dimensions to your living experience, if you ignore them, they’ll ignore you back, no big deal.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-48426966084944194902010-06-04T20:55:00.000+03:002010-06-04T20:55:31.931+03:00

I try to make things right, But, sometimes I look away, I don’t know where I’m meant to go, But, something tells me I’ll know, soon enough, some day. And so I try… I don’t want to look back at a life wasted, I don’t want convenience to lead me astray. At times, it seems too hard to get through, But unless I fight for something, why else should I stay? And so I try… I want to hold on to the people

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-90013522679011734592010-05-29T23:32:00.002+03:002010-05-29T23:45:13.067+03:00

·  Placebo Self pity is placebo. It’s a pill you swallow when you need an excuse for the person you are and the things you do. Some people give it to you, pretending – and probably not knowing – that on the long run, it does you more harm than good. See, at first you’ll be thinking that it works and that there’s always this perfect justification for any- and everything you do. If you keep

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-36024021536485252022010-05-29T23:29:00.000+03:002010-05-29T23:29:07.157+03:00

·         Wherever an idea came from, no matter how well it’s put or apparently (il)logical it sounds, if not put to the test, is worth just about nothing. ·         Whatever you do, do it for the right reasons. It’s the reasons that keep you going in your darkest moments; the reasons that push you to go on, and it’s always the reasons that make you proud of yourself, whether you achieved your

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-45850619674327571062010-05-19T17:51:00.000+03:002010-05-19T17:51:47.149+03:00

·         I’m as imperfect as they may come… and I don’t mind J ·         It’s not what we believe in that makes us who we are… It’s what we do about what we believe in that does. ·         What makes our hearts twist and turn? What makes us jump from one mood to another? What is it that our souls know that we’re not aware of? ·         Is there really that ‘big break’, that ‘one shot’ that

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-47083926985836068262010-05-14T01:07:00.000+03:002010-05-14T01:07:03.728+03:00

·         I see elephants, stupid peoples’ elephants. Sometimes it’s amusing how I’ve come to fool people into believing that I’m too stupid to notice what they don’t want me to notice, and too naive to buy whatever story they tell me. ·         Be old enough to know that you’re young enough to try. ·         When is it that you figure out people for who they really are? Is it when they’re pushed

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-67522840863064091372010-05-07T15:12:00.000+03:002010-05-07T15:12:17.296+03:00

I’ve come a long way… Yet, here I am in the same place I spent as good as half of my childhood in, swimming, fishing, having fun with my friends and family on weekends. The place looked much bigger to me as a child and it surprises me now how small it actually is today. Technically, it’s  never really changed; I’m the one who has. Don’t we always do that? Don’t we always wonder how the world

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-7233597613486874682010-03-30T05:26:00.000+02:002010-03-30T05:26:08.174+02:00

Hell-oooo blinking cursor, it's been a while, hasn't it? See, now i have a bigger problem than you; it's something keeping me from having a good sound night sleep. It's the one... The only... Special request by karma... I.N.S.O.M.N.I.A. "I've been found out. So, now, i'll never explore" (Islands- The XX) Damn. What i hate about insomnia, other than its head-aching consequence, is its

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-2268264041784476862010-03-23T13:11:00.000+02:002010-03-23T13:11:07.874+02:00

I thought that one dayI would wake up with a key to open every door and every wayThat I’d be strong enough No matter who or what stands in my way But then rushes the next day And I can’t help but realizeThat it doesn’t matter how long I fantasizeGravity would pull me back to the groundSo, I fall Then rolls the next dayWith my wanting it to disappear as fast as a rayNot wanting to fallNot wanting

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-62484745948076249542010-03-19T19:19:00.002+02:002010-03-19T19:19:59.489+02:00

"When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy."Rumi (via inwaves) (via yearslater)

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-36773544264104565802010-03-19T01:09:00.001+02:002010-03-19T01:09:38.712+02:00

*Blink* World.NOTmatter. *Blink* wait. *Blink* tasteLESS *Blink* UN.de.finEd *Blink* reFINeD. *Blink* Heavy.lingering. *Blink* gone.NOT? *Blink* loop. *Blink* RUN.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-13232122657644196282010-03-18T21:42:00.001+02:002010-03-18T21:50:46.968+02:00

It’s pretty interesting how we immortalize ideas, things or people. When I come to think of famous writers, musicians, scientists etc whose names have survived decades and centuries, I can’t help but ask myself: “How do they do it?” Actually, they didn’t really “do” it; we did. Who followed their work? Who kept talking and writing about them, whether in their favor or against it? Who developed

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-5108229334133316582010-03-14T21:14:00.002+02:002010-03-14T21:14:53.959+02:00

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-44203893238351993022010-03-14T19:30:00.001+02:002010-12-01T01:08:53.665+02:00

We're all drunk on something. What are you drunk on? Then again, how can you know what it is if it's keeping you from being sober? Hmmm....

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-78573659556246220882010-02-26T01:08:00.006+02:002010-03-09T23:43:22.039+02:00

Things I want to remind myself of on a rainy dayWhen I walked out the door – in a hurry, as usual – the least I expected was so much rain. I’m glad I didn’t wear something fancy :D. See, chic isn’t always the right choice.  It’s funny how the day went. Only one little part of it was planned... yet it turned out alright, eventually.  It’s a miracle to have people in your life who really understand

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-65941427254363363022010-02-16T11:18:00.001+02:002010-02-16T11:21:43.202+02:00

• Asking anyone to tell you the truth is futile. Either they won’t tell you the ‘truth’ because they don’t want to hurt you or they actually will tell you the ‘truth’ which is basically their opinion. • I believe God has given us a sense for the truth, far from an absolute one, but it’s there. It’s usually that voice inside you that you put som much effort to shut up or prove wrong. It's the

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-40250420225982035002010-02-15T01:54:00.000+02:002010-02-15T01:54:20.159+02:00

Sometimes I think that nothing is new, that someway everything is recycled... history, stories, people, mistakes... Maybe it’s all recycled with a twist. As I look for patterns in everything and everyone around me, I realize how apparently similar they all are. Then comes this teeny weeny twist. It’s that one thing that makes a difference, the one thing that could be impossible to miss. It

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-22221101570146130472010-02-11T14:21:00.001+02:002010-02-14T23:44:33.865+02:00

Is floating worse than drowning? I’m starting to think so. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking literally. I’m not that suicidal yet. But, if you come to think of it, if you’re floating, then you’re putting a whole lot of effort into just staying where you are, surviving, staying above water, well aware that you’re not really going anywhere. At the same time, you know that if nothing changes about

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-72413056018488584422010-02-05T22:18:00.000+02:002010-02-05T22:18:15.198+02:00

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-50441102492866387702010-02-03T01:45:00.001+02:002010-02-15T00:02:04.800+02:00

Every now and then -hopefully not often- comes a moment, a day, a long time, when everything doesn't mean anything, when all the sense, the reason in me just disappears. Maybe it doesn't disappear completely, but rather fades out. I still know what things are like around me, how much they differ from what I want. I'm still aware of all the things that came true even though i could only dream of

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-51219688493381045262010-01-24T06:36:00.001+02:002010-02-14T23:45:24.381+02:00

History... Whose legacy is it? Is it the legacy of a time far away, or the legacy of what some people who lived in that time think and evaluate what happened, survived it, and decided to tell someone about it? Isn’t it a little funny that we automatically believe them? First there was the description “modern”, then came “post modern”. Where, exactly, is this heading? Who decided that the “

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-44849923651092457152010-01-23T06:08:00.001+02:002010-01-23T06:50:49.409+02:00

We’re not really as different as we think. We all want to be acknowledged, taken care of and loved. Think about anything you do (other than physical needs necessary for survival) that doesn’t lead to one of those three things mentioned above. If you find it, please share. What differentiates one of us from the other is the path we take and the possessions/ people/ideas that we believe are

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-50529590678820084462010-01-22T04:42:00.001+02:002010-01-22T04:47:12.562+02:00

There’s this misconception that ‘normal’ and ‘natural’ are synonymous whereas they are more likely to be opposites of each other. ‘Normal’ is only normalized by us, them, pretty much any one really. It’s something people come up with, as opposed to ‘natural’ which is something that lies beyond our sphere of control, since we are more likely to be controlled by nature than the other way around.

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-30066525452550758032010-01-21T05:46:00.000+02:002010-01-21T05:46:43.498+02:00

Ten minutes ago, I realized that I wasn’t in it for the long haul as I used to, that for a while now, I’m all about short term goals and checking things off my to-do list (the one I even stopped making). Ten minutes later, I decided that I should start thinking of what’s beyond that, of myself in five years, maybe even ten. The thought that scared me the most: That I would spend these years ‘

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-55895456840322843472010-01-17T01:39:00.001+02:002010-01-17T01:41:18.826+02:00

... the only time you can identify with/be proud of your country is when 12 football players win a match of, well, football. Patriotic indeed! No wonder, no wonder at all...

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-53445626553536782122010-01-15T03:01:00.000+02:002010-01-15T03:21:11.234+02:00

For the past period, the one thing I’ve been completely sure of was the fact that I was breathing. Yes, I know it sounds dramatic and exaggerating,but it is what it is. I questioned everything whithout having a reason behind my questions, doubted everything without knowing why I did, felt the itchy need for something I don’t yet know. It wasn’t a pleasant state to be in, but perhaps it was what I

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7287020773074733082.post-87872501537163105372010-01-15T02:57:00.000+02:002010-01-15T02:59:03.109+02:00

Well, here I am again in front of yet another blank page with yet another constantly blinking cursor, asking myself 'Hmm, so what's next?' You'd think that after several years of thinking of myself as an amateur wanna-be writer, coming up with something to write won't be such a big deal anymore... it is, though, maybe now more than ever. A blank page is tougher for me than a live audience

Youmnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00319274000038152576noreply@blogger.com0