Dharma and Greg: Threatening My Friends Boyfriends/Fiances/Husbands

See this amazing line from Dharma and Greg's first episode, when Dharma presented Greg to her friend Jane: 

Jane: (hugging Greg) If you cause my friend any emotional pain whatsoever, I'll punish you in ways you can't even imagine.

I Just wish I had this experience to openly threaten the men in my friends lives. I don't do it, because I don't turn hostile until after shit takes place. I don't attack people unless I know that I am going to burn each and every bridge and I am POSITIVE I will not need them in a near or a far future. 

And - here comes the important reason- Who am I to threaten people? It is so patronizing and it makes an assumption that my friends are not responsible enough to make a sentimental\life decision. 

But again, I look back at my friends men, the ones who stayed and the ones who left, they are equally idiotic misogynists who don't even realize that this IS what they are. 

A friend recently broke up with her fiance, and the first thing I did after getting her a "Birthday Girl" crown is blocking him on Facebook. She was like: Why did you block him? I did not block him, and I was like: You are free to deal with your feeling the way you like, but as for me it is hurtful on its own to remember that such a simple man (and the word simple is a huge insult if you look into it) took a year from your time and energy. 

When friends get married I feel that an honesty channel is blocked between them and I, because then honesty becomes a luxury that we can't afford. You are no longer able to make any "deal breaking' remarks, because that's just mean to the friend. It puts her in a situation where she can no longer share, because we can be as close as friends could be but no one wants to seem defeated infront of any other not even if this other is their dearest friend. 

And on a final note: I think I am going to revise Dharma and Greg now, and I might turn it into a course for "How to Enjoy Life" because Dharma is a real expert on the matter, and I feel that I need this kind of skills. I have been working a lot lately, I still feel like I can enjoy and celebrate almost anything (just like when I was a kid) but I constantly feel like I have less time than what I would like, and that was the main reason why I chose to be a freelancer: to be the master of my own time. 

Yesterday I saw this video by Presidente Mujica and it just depressed me, when he said that we don't pay money in exchange of items, we pay the time that it took us to make this amount of money. 

The Trouble With Prison Is Prison Itself

 In the first week of the "Incarceration's Witnesses: American Prison

 Writing" online course I found this letter. It was written by

 Kenneth E.Hartman from inside the

 California prison system. 

It is written so simply yet so deeply. The writer was

 not only able to look at his own experience, but he was 

also able to perceive the suffering of others around him, 

and I believethat what makes this so extraordinary is that

 people are always able to realize the suffering 

of their equals, but they might not be as sensitive to 

the suffering of people who belong to 

different social, economical and educational backgrounds. 

I have seen the inside of prisons in my work,

 and I was able to imagine everything he said

in this article. Those are people who were given

 no chances, and they have become those 

unrescuable persons who in some moments

 made me wary and reluctant.  

 

You can find the full text here 

This is a part of The Other Death Penalty Project that I

 will get back to in order to read more. 

The Best Movie Scene Ever: Nearer My God To Thee

As it had rained heavily today, and as the city drowned under heaps of brown angry rain, I remembered this scene from the Titanic. It is the best music that goes by with the biggest sense of vanity: When the violinists starts playing because they are convinced they are going to drown anyway.

I saw lately in the internet a meme that goes like this: I am worried that my homeland is a sinking ship just like the Titanic, and meanwhile people are running to jump of it I am still standing there like those violinists.

This is the main idea on my mind: ALL the time. 

Cities that we don't know

Croatia Dubrovnik | photo by @ilhan1077 check out beautiful gallery @ilhan1077 🍰💐

A photo posted by Travelin'man Turkey (@onderkoca) on Nov 3, 2015 at 11:51am PST

I just found this picture on Instagram. I think I am designed in a way to assume that every breathtaking scene should be from Granada or at least any other place in Spain. But No, this is from Dubrovnik Croatia. Do I know anything about this place? No!

Today I was looking for something in my suitcases, and they made me think: I travel way less than I am supposed to. And every time I discover an interesting place the list goes longer longer and it gives me the feeling that the world is so infinite that I will never run out of aspirations and amusement.

Seinfeld: Life Before Mobiles

I am revising Seinfeld again (I think I am too busy to try a new show and spend time "getting used" to it) and I was thinking about the numerous episodes where the argument would have been totally useless if there were a mobile phones with the characters. Today he said this at the beginning of the episode and it got me thinking, what phones have turned us into?! we can not sit alone. 


~'I would say the concept behind the car phone, and the phone machine, the speaker phone, the airline phone, the portable phone, the pay phone, the cordless phone, the multi-line phone, the phone pager, the call waiting, call forwarding, call conferencing, speed dialing, direct dialing, and the re-dialing, is that we all have absolutely nothing to say, and we've got to talk to someone about it right now. It cannot wait another second! I mean, come on, you're at home and you're on the phone, you're in the car making calls, you get to work 'any messages for me?', you gotta give people a chance to miss you a little!'~

Banning Aylan Kurdi's Pictures

When I first saw the video of the Turkish coastguard finding Aylan's body, something drew my attention: He took pictures of him first.

I cringed. I thought: There is a dead toddler in front of you and you are taking pictures of him?
But then I thought, Yes! This is exactly what the guard should do. He should keep a record, he should document that this atrocity has occurred.

We don't honor the memory of the dead if we conceal their death. If he had not taken those pictures, or if he was not filmed by a different camera as he held the small body and went up the beach, it would have been one more story then. A story of those horrifying stories that are so repeated in times of conflict that they stop making any impact on anyone.

Back when I was in Media Institute we had lengthy discussions about publishing "Graphic Content".
I remember an  argument of one of my Palestinian colleagues who said that the repeated publishing of such images causes "Compassion Fatigue" and by that we mean that people gradually lose compassion as they are repeatedly exposed to this kind of content.

The picture of the Vietnamese girl who was running naked after being bombarded with Napalm is always used as the "good example" of graphic content, because the audience could have deeper sympathy towards her given that she is still alive and there is something that could be done to save her, while in the pictures of dead people the audience only feels impotent because there is nothing that could be done to the "subject'' in the picture.

Back then, I embraced this argument and did not go back to posting bloody pictures (One exception: The four Palestinian boys who were killed in an airstrike as they played football on the the beach of Gaza. That was outrageous, I could not ignore it). And now this: the picture of a dead toddler, dead and with his face in the sand and his shoes towards the camera.

This is a graphic picture, Yes, but for a totally different reason. No torn clothes, no faces covered with debris dirt and no blood, he is calmly dead. So peaceful.
This picture throws all of its pain on the viewers given that the subject, the dead toddler, is done suffering, he is just floating like feather, washed ashore for his body to be concealed under the ground once and for all.

I tried to check if the picture was officially banned on Facebook but I found no evidence, yet I have been seeing it blurred or pixelated in different news websites.

More on pictures that changed the world here.

New Profile Picture: Splendidly Disfigured

This is an old picture that I stumbled upon today. I sit it as a profile picture. It was bigger but I had to crop it for Facebook dimensions' restrictions, and when it became square it kind of emphasized my open mouth and my yellowish teeth.

I stared at it for a moment, feeling all self conscious, but then something in my head told me: This is how smiles are! They are not supposed to be perfect, and the harder you are laughing the more "disfigured" your face will look.

So I kept it and I am so happy with it. Yet, somewhere, down in my heart it makes me sad, it is not that I grew old, but I am no longer a college kid surrounded with friends effortlessly. I am still surrounded with friends 4 years later, but I feel the "effort" the "phone calls" the "waiting" and the "cancellations".

I guess I will give myself a 10 minutes wallowing period, so let's start. 

A Song About a Lady Reading!

I was in my office trying to do anything useful, when my neighbor Ibrahim came in and he said he wanted to show me something. He gave me the name of the song (posted below) and for a moment I was like: Perfect! One more "modern" track with endless 4 minutes (There is nothing that I can do about this! I have a grandma's musical taste, and I get drowsy when I listen to new stuff)

But when the song started it drew my attention (BIG achievement).

It describes a man observing a woman reading a book in a coffee house. He was not observing how "she looked" as she read but rather described what he thought "she felt" as she read, and that -ladies and gentlemen- is a first!

Lately I have been irritated by the lame glorification of "intellectual women''. Too many Facebook posts of women who are "suffering" because they have a lot of books that they have not read yet (time management issues if you ask me) and posts about women who just can't stop themselves from "buying more books" although they should not (again, if you ask me: women taking their shopping disorders from shoes to books. Self-control issues).

 But the most appalling of all are the posts with pictures or paintings of girls with glasses who are "engrossed'' (Engrossed?! Is that even a word? sounds like the feeling you get when you do something Gross) in reading a book, with a caption of some horny guy glorifying girls who read, and the same girls (who think that their pathetic reading routine is actually READING) showering him with likes and comments without realizing at all that "the girl with glasses who is engrossed in reading" is a common porn movie plot (Hahah! Did I just say plot? there's no plot, the girl sees the man virility and she throws the book away, this is as complicated as the plot gets).

And you know? I don't want to go all "perfect" on anyone, if a guy and a girl want to play the game of attraction based on his "interest in her intellectualism" so be it, who am I to judge. But what is more disgusting (and yes, the term is "disgust'') when girls present themselves as intellectuals to land boyfriends, and therefore potential husbands.

 Remember when girls used to wear extra make up and extra high heels to draw a man's attention? Well, those girls were at least honest with themselves, they knew what they wanted and they went out there and got it. But what is the deal with girls now who want to have their "5 minutes of leading the public opinion" before landing a guy and dwelling in his laundry room for the rest of their lives?

Why does this annoy me? It is because reading is a phase, and their next phase is: "Writing" and that is just offending to everyone who is still sane. It's a public service to nip their intellectual longings in the bud.

God I got carried away ... 

Back to the song: We need this song, and many other similar songs, where a woman is observed while she is actually reading, and not meanwhile she's orchestrating the scene of her reading longing that some man might observe her, invite her for something or even mention her in a novel or a poem. 

Observe this painting. 

I accidentally found it on the jungle of the internet, read more about it here. 

The article mentioned an interesting term "Urban alienation". 

I don't know, maybe it is just me, but this is what reading is supposed to do to a person. Reading alienates you, it does not put you in the spot light. If it does, the lights will flash your eyes and you will find yourself participating in the constant parade of  "pseudo-intellectuals'' that is roaming the worlds corners for a while now. 

Over and Out   

ِA Turkish Song: Allah Allah

Yesterday I made a new friend in a party. An interesting girl from Turkey. We stood there making little talk about Turkey and it all came back to me, I remembered my time in Turkey in 2013 and my Turkish classes in the first few months of 2014.

I know I have had a lot of linguistic flings and affairs, but the love I have for every language is true, and I know for a fact that I will find a moment in my life in which I'll go back to each and every language of them until I excel in all of them. They are like my kids and I love them all.

So here,,,
Enjoy the translation of Allah Allah sarki that I accidentally found on Google. May God bless those generous anonymous translators who give us those jewels.

Allah Allah

Ne güzel yaratmışsın çiftedir beni
Görünce aşık oldum eyledi deli. (x2)

Gülünce gözlerini, saçının her telini,
Tutunca ellerini, ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir
Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.
Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.

Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.
Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.
Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.
Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.
Bu nasıl sevmek bu nasıl gülmek.
İnsan değil bu sanki bir melek.

Gözlerine bakınca deryayı gördüm.
Sevmeyi, sevilmeyi onunla bildim. (x2)

Gülünce gözlerini, saçının her telini,
Tutunca ellerini, ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir
Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.
Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.

Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.
Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.
Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.
Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.
Bu nasıl sevmek bu nasıl gülmek.
İnsan değil bu sanki bir melek.

الله الله

كم هو جميل خلقك لتوأم روحي
عندما رأيته جعلني مجنونا به واصبحت عاشقا

عندما يضحك والمس عينيه وكل خصلة من شعره الحريري
وعندما امسك يديه أحتضر
احتَضر , احتَضر
احتَضر , احْتَضر

الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب
الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة
الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب
الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة
كيف يكون هذا الحب وكيف تكون هذه الابتسامة
هذا ليس انسان كأنه ملاك

عندما نظرت الى عينيه رأيت فيها البحار
تعلمت معه أن اَحِب واٌحَب

عندما يضحك والمس عينيه وكل خصلة من شعره الحريري
وامسك يديه ااموت
اصبح ميت اصبح ميت
اصبح ميت اصبح ميت

الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب
الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة
الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب
الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة
كيف يكون هذا الحب وكيف تكون هذه الابتسامة
هذا ليس انسان , كأنه ملاك

Taken from http://lyricstranslate.com/en/allah-allah-%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%84%D9%87-%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%84%D9%87.html-0#ixzz3g33wl4d9 

Omar and Faten: Together At The End

May Both Rest In Peace. 

A Poem I Accidentally Translated: كلمات سبارتكوس الأخيرة

Yesterday, as I was following the news of the Greek referendum, I remembered this old poem of Amal Dunqul, and as I wanted my Spanish friends to read it I translated it on my phone and posted it on Facebook. Amazing words of wisdom, written sometime in the past and they fit the present like a glove:

المجد للشيطان .. معبود الرياح

من قال " لا " في وجه من قالوا " نعم "

من علّم الإنسان تمزيق العدم

من قال " لا " .. فلم يمت ,

وظلّ روحا أبديّة الألم !

أمل دنقل

Alabado sea Satanás 

El adorado por los vientos

El que dijo "No" en la cara de quienes dijeron "Sí"

Quien enseñó al hombre a romper la nada

Quien dijo "No" y no se murió

Y permaneció como alma dolida eternamente

Amal Dunqul - Poeta egipcio

To read the rest of the poem in Arabic please Click Here.

Fields of Gravity

The best advice I ever got about love was from my grandmother, right before I got married. She said, "Marriage goes through cyclical phases, it's almost like the movements of planets. Sometimes you're so close, the two of you, your orbits are in synch, and sometimes you move so far away from each other, you feel you'll never reconnect, never reenter each other's orbits, you're too far apart. The trick to marriage is having faith in the reconnection, waiting for the inevitable closeness again." This was in 1994. She died a couple of years later. My marriage lasted 12 years. I never forgot this advice; we moved far away from each other many times, and I waited it out, and sure enough, we came back into synch again. And then at the end, we moved too far apart to ever reenter each other's orbits, out of each other's fields of gravity, and that's when I knew it was over. —Melissa Chapman

berlin-artparasites

Bedtime Story: Something I Copied from Facebook

bedtime story:

“Stop. You can’t love me because you’re lonely, or because I am the only one who doesn’t piss you off. I want to piss you off, I want to get on your fucking nerves. I don’t want the responsibility of always being your rock. I will try, but I’m a mess, too. I lie, I sleep too much and I don’t like children under the age of 6, really. I don’t even know if I want kids because I’m selfish, and mothers can’t be selfish once they decide to carry another life.

I’m always looking for the rain to come so I trip over my own feet. I know exactly what the air smells like before a storm.
Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that I cry a lot because it feels good, and I masturbate at least 4 times a week, and you might fall out of love with me before either of us are ready for it.I have no experience with this. I’m trying to be brave and smart but its almost impossible to be both at the same time.
You can’t love me like a fire escape. Sometimes I will be the match, or the smoke under the door. I don’t know what I’m doing, all I know is that we all catch fire sometimes, before we even get warm.
Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that there’s a 50% chance that this won’t work, that one of us will wind up hating the other. I will try to keep your head above water, but sometimes I’ll need help, too.
I can’t be your savior, and I don’t expect you to be mine. Just watch me unfold and I’ll watch you unfold, too. We’ll get drunk and tell each other everything. I know that’s cheating but maybe it’ll be alright. Maybe we won’t wake up embarrassed.

I am going to fall in love with you, too, feet first. Maybe we’ll slow dance off a building together, maybe we’ll have forgotten each other’s names by this time next year. I don’t care, the sky is gray with or without you, so I’m not going to look up anymore, I’m going to look ahead .”
—Before You Fall in Love with Me, Caitlyn S.

good night
Watercolor by Brendan Shea

Dear Blog, Remember me?

Dear Blog,

Remember me? It's me Evaluna.

I shall confess that I was sucked into the shit whole known as Facebook. And yesterday I had a Facebook-comment-section-conversation with an old and dear friend-blogger, and we both agreed that we are letting our ideas drown in that drain, we don't get to document them, reread them, look at them and don't get me started on "having them read by actual audience".

I know that my blog isn't a rock concert, it had always had an intimate number of followers, but I am now convinced more than ever, that being read by total strangers who read thoroughly is better than being read by the so-called Facebook-friends who see only what they want to see and comment what they had in mind even before reading my post.

People are entitled to their crappy opinions of course, but I am just bored, drained and exhausted.
Yesterday I had to block my own mother :\ and it just struck me. I realized that maybe maybe, I am one of those who can't share their opinions "out there" with their identity totally revealed.

Blocking her was no smooth process, she got so furious and she yelled and cursed, but then, when I found myself on Facebook without her I found myself listing my name in a signed petition against the same issue that she was so offensive about (that led to me blocking her afterwards) I felt like a free animal in the meadows!

It's just stunning ... I love her and everything but I believe I got to that phase in my life where I feel like I'm bearing my mother on my shoulders all the time, and life just does not work that way. Her beliefs are fragile and I am young and strong, I can't keep tuning down my energy to pamper her set of values (that I don't share ,,, let's just put it that way!)

Offft, I was not supposed to go on an on about this, but this is what I felt like saying when I saw the broad Blogger window.

I really missed it here, and I feel bad for every thought that I didn't document here.

****   

So for now, I am in my office, I got here 8 am, and I absorbed the silence, given that silence is one of the most underrated resources there is in the world. Now I am going to go stuff my head in my notebook and prepare my Hebrew class. I will come back with more Hebrew details in a post that I shall write soon. 

Over and Out

Visas: Modern Form of Institutional Humilliation

I have been going in circles for a month and a half now, just because I feel nostalgic to the city of my dreams,   where I am planning to spend 15 days!!

For 15 days of relaxation a human being has to go through a month or so of stress. Well maybe stress is never my case, but it is a prolonged procedure of waiting and hoping. It's just like making a wish on a falling star!

I was told that today was the day in which I'll be informed if I was granted the visa (look at the verb!! Grant! It's humiliating on its very own! As If I am being granted a Noble prize) I checked the online page and this is what I got. I squeezed my guts and made a call and an Indian guy who kept saying "Mam" throughout the call told me that I might still have to wait for an extra week or two!

If it were not for Spain I would have dropped it, but for Spain I am capable of almost anything.