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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
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Tapping at my chamber door

In 2008, I'll Get Me A Shotgun

I will also:
2. Get closer to
Job hunt some more.
4. Get closer to my
5. Learn a new language.
Finish at least one screenplay.
Lose the extra weight.
8. Get a
driver's license. I will not buy a car.
9. I will
rule my world.
10. I will have my

« Home | Cell » | My least favorite question » | The exorcism of the fucking cat » | Mess : Day 1 » | Cavity » | I am the night. Paint me black. » | Follow the White Rabbit » | My 10-year residency » | The reincarnation of Holden Caulfield » | The 100% Destiny draft »

The messy room in my space

My room is done. :-D
Now it looks like a prison cell.
I need shit to hang on my wall. I remember when I was 13 there was a poster sold at Abu Dhabi’s Coop Music store that I regret not buying at the time. It was a surreal painting of blue stairs intersecting one another; a cold blue city made of stairs.
It was fucking beautiful.
If only I could have at least grabbed the artist’s name.
Poster shopping is my next step probably.

I went through some weird shit while I was “doing” my room. It was like a journey through my past. I found songs lyrics that I wrote when I was 14. I found letters sent by some friends whom I’ve lost contact with permanently. I found pictures, music albums that once were faves of mine and now I’ve left lying at the bottom of a “box of crap” that I shall store forever under my bed.
I don’t believe in selling used shit. I’d rather buy more space… even though those tapes and CDs have a zero sentimental value to me now and will probably spend eternity unheard.

Tape: I found a tape that I made back in the day when I thought that I could make it into the music business. Well… actually my parents found the tape first in a box of old tapes that I figured were of old rock songs from the 80s that I wanted to throw away. [Yes. It was weird]
I don’t like to brag, but I sounded real good back then. Of course now things are different. Everything changes, including vocal cords. When I moved to Egypt in 97, I figured I’d record some songs and send it over to a studio or whatever.
Of course, they all turned me down. English wasn’t born yet back then.
I was also an excellent songwriter.

All that glitters: Back in Abu Dhabi, I used to play football for a local club. I own three gold medals, one of which is for best midfielder in the 1994 tournament. My application was rejected by Al Ahly club in 1998. They didn’t even try me. I didn’t have the right connections. All our national players look like they suffer from HIV, yet… they’re still rolling.
I found the medals in some random box and stashed them away to hang them later on the walls my apartment’s toilet maybe.

But then again… 3asa an takraho shay2an…
If I had made it big into music… what if I had become one of those zebala people?
What if I brought fasad akhlaqy to the society?
What if I had realized that it’s all 7aram eventually?
What if I sought a career in sports… and failed?

In the end, my room is clear. I have lots of space to think.
I couldn’t be more content. :)
Al 7amdulellah.

My room in Lebanon contains so many boxes of memories. I don't like going through those boxes. I hate nostalgia. It puts me in that "sad" mood, that "I-wish-I-could-go-back-in-time" mood.

If you had made it big into music, what if you had become one of those "moustawa" people"?

What if you brought akhlaq 3alya to the society?

You wouldn't realize it's 7aram because you might have been doing it the right way. Music, Arts, and this whole industry is not 7aram... It's the people who tar it.

What if you sought a career in sports... and succeeded?

Don't mind me. I'm just asking questions the way I would've asked them.

But, it's good you're content. This is all that matters.

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