This year?

Stronger. 

Stronger. 

Stronger. 

Stronger. 

And when i’m done with that?

Even stronger. 

Who knows

Why now of all times?

Why today of all days?

Circumstances

“If a man does not master his circumstances, then he is bound to be mastered by them” 

- Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow

Butterflies

One little look. One little gesture. One little smile. One little word. 

And then the butterflies come out. 

They fly and whizz and fizz and get tangled into a dazzling knot at the pit of your stomach. Maybe you’ll hear them too - zooming past each other into splashy collisions and explosions, turning an essentially physiologic reflex into a physical, colorful, musical beautiful picture. 

We all know the butterflies. We all felt the butterflies. Might be a test. A rollercoaster. A lie where you almost get caught. A scenic view point after a long hike. 

But the butterflies when you’re smitten are the best kind of butterflies. They’re more vibrant, more vocal, more vivid. They’re delightful and magical and whimsical and one longs to hold on to the feeling. Even when its for a split second, you play it over and over in your head and wish you could lose yourself in it forever.

So here’s to butterflies…

I walk a little faster...

Pretending that we'll meet
Each time I turn a corner, I walk a little faster
Pretending life is sweet
'Cause love's around the corner, I walk a little faster

Can't begin to see my future shine as yet
No sign as yet, you're mine as yet
Rushing to a face I can't define as yet
Keep bumping into walls and taking lots of falls

And even though I meet 'round each and every corner
With nothing but disaster

I set my chin a little higher, I hope a little longer
Build a little stronger castle in the air
And thinking you'll be there, I walk a little faster

no one has to know

we could have everything...

حنين

Sometimes i wonder what brings me back here every now and then...

“Help”

,she whispered...

وانا؟

وانا انتظر الجنون...

ice cubes

He slammed the door and stormed into the room, startling her as she read her book.

"Bismillah" she said out loud, but his anger clouded his sense of hearing. He didnt utter a word, not even "AlSalam 3laikom". He didnt look up to see who was sitting in the room. He just stomped into the kitchen with his flawless white dishdasha and neatly pressed chamgh.

Her eyes followed him silently, and in her head, she started counting down from 10, expecting what will come next.

It was at 3 that she heard his voice shake the chair she was sitting on.

"LAISH MAKO THALJ BL FREEZER!! ELMAYY 7AR!! SHAL ARAF!! MA YINSHIRIB!!" His voice got louder as he got closer to the living room. "ENTAY MN 9IJICH?!", he yelled at her "SHLON ELBAIT MA FEH WALA GI63AT THALJ?! SHLON TSAMEN NAFSICH RABBAT MANZIL ETHA RAYLICH YDISH ELBAIT OO 7TA GLASS MAYY BARID MA YILGA!!". 

With that sentence, the glass in his hand suddenly exploded into a million little pieces into his hand. Blood and water slipped between his fingers onto the white carpet.

She immediately sprang up from the chair and ran over to him, as he stood staring at his bleeding hand in astonishment. His temper wasn't new to him, or his wife for that matter, but never had it reached this level before. He felt as if he was having an out-of-body experience, watching his wife worriedly undo his bleeding fists, and carefully inspect it for glass, not caring that she might hurt her own in the process. He could hear her repeatedly say something, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was above the sound of his own breathing. She held his hand and led him to the sofa, carefully sitting him down as he obeyed like a little child. She then ran into the kitchen and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer, and some plaster for his hand.

She came back with a glass of water and added a few more ice cubes into it. He watched her in amazement, and he didn't understand why. He could now barely hear what she was saying. "Ti3awath mn ebleees....ti3awath mn eblees" she kept repeating. Still depersonalized, he repeated "a3otho billah mn alshay6an alrajeem....a3otho billah mn alshay6an alrajeem". She handed him the glass of water, and he gulped it down all in one go. When he put the glass down, his hand was nicely bandaged and in between his wife's own.

He looked into her eyes, and she smiled softly. He then lay his body on the sofa, and his head on her thigh, and just like every other time, she stroked his hair gently, knowing fully well this is the only thing that can soothe him and calm him down. He lay there for hours, feeling her soft fingers running through his hair, and losing a reasonable amount of negative energy each time. As he calmed down, he felt his veins return to their original place, and his flushed face return to its original color. He felt his heart slowing down and his breathing become more regular. He felt his jittery body become still. The more relaxed he became, he slowly felt the business deal he lost this morning dissolve into thin air.

How would he have ever gotten through it without her?

Without looking up at her, he kissed her thigh where he lay, and stroked it gently. "A7ibich 7beebty". The words still tickled her insides, just like the first time she heard them. She moved her soft fingertips to the sides of his temples to brush them, but he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. "Ana asif...sam7eeni"

"Shhhhhhh....."

And he drifted into deep sleep.

when she missed him the most...

It was late at night that she missed him the most. 

Not after a long day at work when everything fell apart in one go, and she broke down because she had no one to pull her out of it with. 

Not after her best friend told her point blank that she was a spoilt brat who got everything she wanted, somehow not managing to see through the tornadoes inside her. 

Not after she'd had a huge fight with her family about the guy who is proposing to her, while she was still thinking of him. 

Not after she'd called her brother because she'd felt so terribly alone, but who was too busy with his friends to notice her cry for help. 

Not after she went out for her solo coffee while surrounded by couples and friends, but still managing to make a good night out of it despite the mess that was her day.

She was one tough cookie. All that she could handle by herself. None of that broke her.

But when she lay in bed for hours late at night...

When tears filled her eyes because sleep couldnt...

She would remember how she used to wake him up in the middle of the night, and hear his husky voice.

"Hmmmmm....."

"Ga3id?"

"Hmmmmmmm...."

"Ok. T9ba7 3ala khair 7abeeby. I love you" 

"Love youhmmmmm....."

And just like that, she would fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. 

And that....

That was when she missed him the most.

a roar and a whisper...

The sound of the waves kissing the shore never failed to mesmerise her. 

There was something so musical about it, sbout the way it roared and whispered and roared again.  She could literally lay there and listen to it for hours and hours at end - infact, thats exactly what she was doing right now. 

A roar and a whisper, and then another roar. 

She opened her eyes and the sun had set. She inhaled the cold salty wind that blew in her face as she opened her eyes and took in the big black sea. 

She loved the sea, but there was something so scary about it at night. Something that made a chill run down her spine and made her put her jacket back on.

A roar and a whisper, and then another roar...

A roar that called her name,and she obeyed silently and walked towards the wave. The water touched her feet, and her toes sunk in. It tickled her, and she took another step as the waves lured her in, welcoming her with arms wide open. And another step. And another.

A roar and a whisper, and then another roar...

Her ipod on her neck played Mariah Carey's "My All", and she sang along. Had she been fully aware of what was happening this moment, she would've been shocked. Who would've thought she listened to such a sappy song, never mind knew the lyrics?

It wasnt easy pulling off the hard exterior that she pulls off every minute of every day infront of everyone. She realized it was much easier to be emtionless than it was to have to deal with the nuisance of having a heart - be it a loving heart, an aching heart, or a broken heart. 

But at the end of the day, she was only human, and despite the fact that no one could see them (and even made fun of the fact), her bottled up emotions were gnawing at her heart slowly. Day after day after day. 

A roar and a whisper, and then another roar...

Sparks came out of the water. She suddenly came to, realizing the water was upto her chest and that her ipod had a short-circuit and was hanging in the water from her neck, at heart level. 

But would it really have been so bad if her heart had a short-circuit too?



Sent from my iPad.

cardiac death

I cant believe my last post was 7 months ago.

I thought i was going through a phase of emotional numbness, but this....


 ....this is cardiac death.

addictions

"Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady,hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted- an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore- despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddam it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbours just to have that thing one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.

So thats it. You have now reached infatuation's final destination - the complete and merciless devaluation of self".

-Elizabeth Gilbert


Sent from my iPhone

i missed you

"I missed you" 

That was it. 

Three words. 

Three words was all it took. 

And just like that, her whole world came crashing down.

The whole fort that she had been building for years fell apart along its circumference; the building bricks that she made from the shattered pieces of her heart tumbled piece by piece onto the floor. The hard cement that she made by mixing her pride and tears together was liquefied in an instant, flowing undermeath her feet like a river. Even the sturdy pillars that she built out of pain -aching constant pain that was still there after all this time....even those she watched collapse right before her eyes. 

Her whole world came crashing down. 

And in less than a split second, her pride was being washed away with tears of joy  - the same tears of joy that were washing away her pain. In less than a split second, an overwhelming sense of relief that she hasnt felt for years, made it way to the broken pieces of her heart, trying to glue them back together. 

But it wasnt that simple. The damage was too extensive this time. 

Far beyond repair. 

The pieces were too small. The tears were too big. 

The damage was too extensive. 

"7abeebty?" he asked worried. She was quiet, almost in a state of trance as far as he was concerned. He saw that in her eyes, she had gone to a world miles and miles away. But he had been gone too long now to know her well enough and know what she was thinking. 

Seeing that his voice didnt grasp her attention, he reached for her hand. 

His skin touching her sent an electric sensation that she had been longing for. Suddenly, his warmth was radiating through her skin, feeding her heart, her mind and her soul..the same soul she would have happily sold the remains of to the devil, if it would have eased the pain she went through after what he had done to it. 

And through the rush of memories that his touch brought back, through the days in the garden and nights on the beach, through sneaked kisses and hushed phonecalls, through the life that they planned together, the only thing that was vividly imprinted in her mind was, not how it never happened, but why it never happened. 

And that memory was still as fresh and as painful as the day it happened. Infact, it was so painful that his touch now felt like a broken piece of glass piercing through her palm. She looked down at her palm that was now bleeding pain, and looked back deep into his eyes...into his soul. 

She saw genuine sorrow. She saw deep regret. She saw promises of how he will rectify things. 

But shining the most brightly of all these things, she saw longing and yearning...and lots of love. An amount that she had never seen before...so much so that it was pouring out of his eyes. 

And that drew a smile on her face, as she squeezed his hand. Her smile sent an overwhelming amount of joy to his heart, which reflected as beams of hope and dreams and promises on his face. 

But only for mere seconds. 

After she squeezed his hand, she softly put it down on the table between them.

Then, she watched his puzzled face as she let go of his hand and, still smiling, got up.....and walked away. 

december 2nd

[via postsecret.com]

"Nothing on this planet can compare to a woman's love - it is kind and compassionate, patient and nurturing, generous and sweet and unconditional. Pure. If you are her man, she will walk on water and through moutains for you, no matter how you've acted out, no matter what crazy thing you've done, no matter the time or demand. If you are her man, she will talk to you until there just aren't anymore words left to say, encourage you when you're at rock bottom and think there just isn't any way out, hold you in her arms when you're sick, and laugh with you when you're up. And if you're her man and that woman loves you - I mean really loves you - she will shine you up when you're dusty, encourage you when you're down, defend you even when she's not so sure you were right, and hang on to your every word, even when you're not saying anything worth listening to. And no matter what you do, no matter how many times her friends say you're no good, no matter how many times you slam the door on the relatioship, she will give you her very best and even some more, and keep right on trying to win over your heart, even when you act like everything she's done to convince you she's The One isn't good enough.

That's a woman's love - it stands the test of time, logic and all circumstances"

~ to December 2nds...
NOT November 12ths


Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone from Zain Kuwait

tweet tweet

doona is now on twitter! =D

who else is? ;p

@d00na

Contrasting Realities 33

ok recap saree3 ;p

haya is on a business trip with hottie snobby m7ammad in london, and because of a grudging rana (the secretary) is stuck sharing a suite with him, making her see a whole new side of him

m7ammad flirts with her chenna el3eed...3abboud calls her marra zaffha oo hung up on her ;p

layla comes to london for 2 days, but is called back to kuwait because her mother is sick. she tells haya that m7ammad has always had a thing for her, but that he was told to stay away from her.

haya is slowly falling for m7ammad...they kiss, then she freaks out and leaves the suite...m7ammad follows her and tells her he loves her blabla. the lonely-and-inlove haya decides to give him a chance to see if things would go anywhere

adry wayed kharboo6a....bas this is just to jog your memory loool ;p

i know this post is kinda slow oo mako wayed action, bas i need it to kinda 'jog' my writing too since i havent written in so long...bas it still has tiny little hints that will serve a purpose later ;)

so do enjoy! ;**

ps: mbarak 3laikom elshahar ;**

************

Wrapped around each other, we walked back to the hotel in complete silence under the pouring rain. The only thing other than our bodies that was keeping us warm was the aura of the love surrounding us. It was strange how I no longer felt sparks or butterflies, but how the peace of it all still intoxicated me.

When we walked into the hotel, we were dripping from every side. Still wrapped around each other though, we couldnt care less about the stares we got or about our squeaking footsteps on the marble floor as we headed to the elevator. Moments after we stepped inside our room, 7amood spoke with his hands still wrapped around me.

"7abeebty?"

I didnt reply.

"Haya?"

"Say it again" I turned to face him as he embraced me.

"Say what again?"

"Eni 7abeebtik"

He smiled, and softly kissed my lips. I closed my eyes and felt the rush.

"7abeebty..oo 3umry...oo 7ayaty kilaha"

I smiled shyly.

"Lazem tdish tetsaba7 oo tbadil 3shan la t6ee7 mareeth" I said, running my fingertips around his face playfully.

"7ta entay"

"Khalas 3yal netsaba7 oo we meet here for dinner again?"

"Eli yray7ich 3umry...bas I'll miss you"

"7amoood...dont be cheesy" I teased.

"I'm not wallah...I dont wanna lose a single moment of you Haya....I've waited so long for this"

"Its just a shower...la t9er daloo3" I said as I broke free from him, but he held my hand and I bounced right back to my place.

"Enzaaaaaain ana 3indy e8tera7..." he said as he brought my hand to his lips, "dam ena ana ra7 atsaba7 oo abadil, oo entay ra7 tsab7ain oo tbadleen..." his voice came down to a very low and oh-so-sexy tone, "shrayich nitsaba7 oo nbadil m3 ba3ath? Nwafir may 3al a8al" he said as he raised his eyebrow at me in amusement.

"Eglub wayhik zain" I said as I lightly punched his chest.

"You cant blame a guy for trying" he kissed my palms once more.

"Yala 7abeeby 3shan ma nimrath"

"Zain 3a6eny bosa"

"tsk"

"Hayooyaa.." he whined and gave me his puppy eyes, "yala 3ad!! Lazem shay y9aberny through my shower"

"Laa mako...dont get too used to this. I'm not that type of girl" i looked down feeling guilty, "I know this is wrong and I think my conscience was a sleep today"

"That means its still asleep for a few hours till the day ends" he whispered into my ears, "so what do you say to the shower offer?"

I gave him a death look.

"Fine fine...lets shower oo we'll discuss the conscience issue ba3dain" he said as he let me go.

"Mafeha discussion" I said as I stuck my tongue out and walked away.


I took the longest hottest shower I ever took, using my favorite shampoo and shower gel to wash both my hair and body three times. Even after I stepped out and put on my purple Juicy tracksuit, I still felt very cold. I decided to blow-dry my hair instead of letting it air dry.

A few minutes after I turned on the blowdryer, I heard knocks on my door. I turned it off to hear.

"Hala?"

"Ya3ny btkhaleeny bro7y oo btsawen sha3rich?"

"Bas ga3da anashfa mmo ga3da asawy feh shay"

"Zain ta3aly saweh eb dary" I heard a naughty tone in his voice.

"Laa mako"

Pause.

"Ok 3ayal khal9y oo ana bara. shino taben takleen?"

"Laa maby akil shay mo yo3ana"

"Ok"

Less than 10 minutes later, my hair was dry and I went to join him. He was lying on the sofa, wearing a light cotton shirt than nicely flattered his torso and sweatpants. I stood at the foot of the sofa and stared at him.

"Mn 9ijik enta?"

"Shino?"

"Mo bardan?" I said through my velevt tracksuit that was zipped all the way up to my neck. I sank inside it a little more as I spoke.

He gave me one of his happy smiles. The ones I've only seen in London, but never back in Kuwait.

"Ta3aly 3umry"

"Wain ayee?" I asked in confusion.

"Hnee" he opened his arms up to welcome me, "3la 9adry...ana adafeech"

I did as I was told and placed myself into his arms. He wrapped his strong arms around me and rubbed them against mine to warm me up. Suddenly, all the events and exhaustion of the day hit me. Layla's departure, the unbelievable rush of tangled emotions, the rain, our intoxicating kiss under the rain.

As his warmth radiated to me, I closed my eyes to take it all in.

"A7san?"

"mmm..." and that was the last thing I remembered before I drifted into deep sleep.

mmm...

guess who's working on a new post for contrasting realities? ;p

another him

He didnt look like him.
He didnt have the same hair.
He wasnt as tall or as dark.
He had a narrower chin and a sharper nose.

He didnt dress like him.
His shirts were much tighter and jeans much skinnier.
He biceps were much less defined and his chest less warming.

He wasnt him.

She knew it and she didnt have to look twice to confirm.

But something about him struck her as familiar....

The way he walked?
His confidence?
His Ray-Bans?

The way he smiled?
His arrogance?
His tan?

She didnt know....she just couldnt quite place her hands on it.

He wasnt him.

But was he another him?


Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone from Zain Kuwait