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.