<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253</id><updated>2011-07-29T10:08:39.084+02:00</updated><category term='http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif'/><title type='text'>A Journey into MY Thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-2533428097075615662</id><published>2009-06-11T15:48:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T19:05:48.478+03:00</updated><title type='text'>What can I do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-list-template-ids:2038464142;} @list l0:level1 	{mso-level-number-format:bullet; 	mso-level-text:; 	mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; 	mso-level-number-position:left; 	text-indent:-.25in; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:Symbol;} @list l1 	{mso-list-id:193691031; 	mso-list-template-ids:-1196752994;} @list l1:level1 	{mso-level-number-format:bullet; 	mso-level-text:; 	mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; 	mso-level-number-position:left; 	text-indent:-.25in; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 	{mso-list-id:449396897; 	mso-list-template-ids:656580430;} @list l2:level1 	{mso-level-number-format:bullet; 	mso-level-text:; 	mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; 	mso-level-number-position:left; 	text-indent:-.25in; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:Symbol;} @list l3 	{mso-list-id:492185157; 	mso-list-template-ids:-485225476;} @list l3:level1 	{mso-level-number-format:bullet; 	mso-level-text:; 	mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; 	mso-level-number-position:left; 	text-indent:-.25in; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 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	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;I don't know, may be it is a flaw in my character, may be it is considered a threat to all my relationships, may be I am normal and the whole world is not... All I know is that if I am really hurt it is too difficult to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has many reasons.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;I am difficult to      understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;I know I am, and that is why I choose not to talk, trying to give people excuse "How would they know, I did not talk". Some other times I feel it is useless; no one would understand any way, so why try so hard, and then get hurt and feel more terrible cause no one can understand me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To understand what I feel, you have to decide that you will. You have to know that it will be complex. You have to know that you are going to dive in a deep ocean of complex thoughts and controversy feelings.  You have to be focused with every word I am saying, and above all, you have to know me well. Every person has a mechanism of thinking and feeling, some people are gifted in understanding this mechanism, others are experts with specific people, others are unable to understand any body but themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I always believe that love and care make wonders. I guess when you love someone, it means you care to know his/her details, and all of a sudden you feel like you have his/her manual. You know the meaning of each look and every kind of smile. You can sense when they are really happy, or when they are just in a state of denial. For sure this won't be happening all the time. But I guess this is the way things should be usually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;2. My&lt;/span&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;EXPECTATIONS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;after talking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I exerted the effort to talk, and tried to make it as simple as possible, or if I exploded in tears saying whatever that comes to my head, I need to be handled. "&lt;span dir="rtl" lang="AR-SA"&gt;الاحتواء&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;", something I always expect after talking. A relief to the explosion of feelings I just had. Usually this is not the reaction I get. Usually I hear words that hurt me even more. The reaction of the person I talk to usually is a disaster, specially if he/she is the one who hurt me in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know when all the reactions hurt, if they did not get it it is a crises. If they made you feel you were not supposed to be hurt and acted very indifferently it is a crises. If they stood in silence without uttering a word it is a crises. And if they felt helpless and asked you, what can I do to relief you is something that hurts so much. You just realize there are worlds between you too, and that it is hard to breathe and that you want to be left alone, not because you want to be alone, but because being with him/her while they can't do any thing for you hurt you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just feel I need to be understood, and I really hope to feel that I was wrong and that there was a misunderstanding. But usually, the case is like this:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;The hurt comes from      someone dear to me, but he/she doesn't know me well to be able to      recognize the things that hurt me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;The hurt comes from      people who are dear to me; I care for every word I say and every action I      do with them, trying to make them happy and never make them sad, and if I      did something that hurts, I sense it (usually) alone and I try to make it      up for them (specially if I was not hurt by this person several time      before). But they do not do it the same way. They don't bother them selves      to think about their actions before they do it, or sense they have done me      wrong after doing it. This leads us to the next point:&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;   3. &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Some mistakes can not be discussed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the most difficult point to explain. Imagine with me the following situations (bear in mind the fact that all people make mistakes:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;A mother forgot her      child alone at home, and did not realize this except when she was back.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;A husband cheated on      his wife; he fell in love with another woman.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;A daughter abandoned      her mother, after she got old.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;Do you think in these cases, there is something to talk about?! I guess not, it is too hard to explain the hurt inside, whatever said will be nothing compared to the real feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I am a very sensitive person (originally), and that I don't need to be subjected to any of this to feel a great damage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to some of you, or may be to all of you (I don't care) the following situations would be very trivial, but to me they are not. I know they won't be as hurtful as what was mentioned above, but they still hurt so much:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Situations that      imply selfishness and inconsideration&lt;/span&gt;; If someone never see you in the      picture. He/she always think of things from his own perspective, he/she      will talk to you when they are free, but never ask you if you are free or      not. They would choose to go out with you when they have no other plans,      and will push you to change any other plans you have. They would care to      talk but never care to listen. They will punish you for all your little      mistakes, but never see any of theirs. They will treat you as if they don't      see you. Would any body tell me why is it worth it to talk in such      matters? If this is what they do, it only means they don't care, and if      they don't, nothing will make them do.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Fatal words&lt;/span&gt;; Some      people when they are angry say things they don't mean, or use words that      shouldn't be said, but there is a limit for this. There are words that can      not be forgotten, even if forgiven. They leave a mark, and for some people      like me, they can not just pass, cause they imply an awful concept. For      example, I don't know how couples continue with their relations after some      conversations like; A man and a woman fighting and she is leaving the      house and he is telling her "Bear in mind that I won't go to your      dad's to bring you back home, you are leaving by your free will, if you      wanna come back it is ok, if not so bye bye" (The conversation is      even more hysterical in Arabic). Another conversation between a dad and      his daughter, they were discussing money issues, and no matter what were      his intentions he told her "I raised you, and I have spent all this      money over you the past 20 years, it is time for me to rest and you be on      your own". How would she respond to this, what can be said, how would      she explain that it is not about the money, it is about the feeling that      she has someone to back her up, that she is not on her own, even if she      can". I don't know sometimes I feel there are situations where words      are meaningless, nothing could be said to explain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;ul type="disc"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Situations that make all the good      history as if it did not happen&lt;/span&gt;. Betrayals by all its ways and levels. For      example, imagine if you are a person, someone who has good values and      flaws, but generally you are good. Every one you know, thinks of you as a      very considerate person, and some of them think of you as an angel. But,      you discover that after a decade of friendship your best friend think of      you as a mean person, someone who doesn't care enough of her or of any      other people. She thinks of you as a selfish creature who cares only of      him/her self. What if you feel like the person who is supposed to know you      the most, doesn't know you at all, and he/she is saying her honest openion      (from her point of view) to you. What would you say to her, how would you      react? Would you explain to her how hurt you are, would you try to convey      how shocked you are from her? How would you think of the past years? Were      they for real?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; direction: ltr; unicode-bidi: embed;"&gt;So, this is what I saw, this is what I am used to, this was my only option. I can not speak when I am hurt from people. I feel like my breath is taken, and if their reactions were not up to my expectation I even get more hurt. I just feel the song that Latifa sings:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;"سبنى شويه لوحدى علشان مضايقه شويه متقلبش عليا مواجعى  وتتعب فيا &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;داا أنا على اد مانفسى اتكلم  واشتكى منك .. خايفه لتيجى على جرحى .. وتزودها عليا &lt;/span&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I know this thing cause me trouble, but I really don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-2533428097075615662?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2533428097075615662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-can-i-do.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/2533428097075615662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/2533428097075615662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-can-i-do.html' title='What can I do?'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-8516348602775710179</id><published>2009-06-08T18:06:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:26:33.400+03:00</updated><title type='text'>I have nothing to say ..</title><content type='html'>I am really tired of thinking of feeling of all the things I always do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t know what to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same thoughts, same conclusions, nothing is working&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every thing changes, and still the same ending&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am neither happy nor satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what is wrong with me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it me who I should explode or the whole world?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried every thing, facing, escaping, ignoring, pretending, denying….but in vain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go on thinking and thinking fighting my self; my weakness my strength until I go insane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am lost and confused since ages, though I thought I was on the shore for a while........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be just an island, and that water still surrounds me from all directions?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really tired, actually exhausted, no one can rescue me but God, but still……….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know, I don't know why things are not working..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quit wanting and left fate to come my way…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched and find and demand and try not to accept but what I really want&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a compromise between both…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped even thinking about it at all..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No relief whatsoever……No matter what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what I am, what I have or what I reach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is still so deep inside, the same frustration, the same anger, the same hurt that taking me down……….. the same dissatisfaction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fake wisdom is what I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fake me, real truth, fake truth, real me, all look the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t try to understand, I guess you can’t, as I barely can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I can but then I forget, I forget, I get lost all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am fed up with me, with you with them with all of us with all of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a volcano deep inside, that has no signs from the outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one knows how hurtful it is, not even me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel running all the time, while I am awake while I am asleep, non stop running all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Real Peace&lt;/span&gt; is something I did not have along time ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I can find it with you……… or at least because of you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the truth is I don’t know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-8516348602775710179?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8516348602775710179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/8516348602775710179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/8516348602775710179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='I have nothing to say ..'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-2359122928746192216</id><published>2009-03-26T15:13:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T15:23:42.765+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things when broken, are never back the same way</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/ScuAE_ZhsvI/AAAAAAAAAEs/EwRw4OQZu8I/s1600-h/perfect+cut+pearls.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 131px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/ScuAE_ZhsvI/AAAAAAAAAEs/EwRw4OQZu8I/s400/perfect+cut+pearls.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317484608267334386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Sometimes when we are upset, loaded, sad, angry or in a hurry, we might break or lose valuable things in our life without taking notice except too late. Some take notice after the situation is over. Others take notice when damage is overwhelming and the case is closed. Some others don’t take notice at all, they always think that it is not their fault.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Being aware of all this didn’t make me immune form making such mistakes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Lately, I am always nervous, loaded, angry and sad, and it makes me blinded all the time. I found my self yelling at people whom I care for the most, usually for no reasonable reason. I am not able to listen to relatives’ or friends’ stories when they are upset, or at least I don’t listen the way I should. I am having bad temper and my reactions are sometimes rude or hurting. Sometimes I even seem inconsiderate and tough. When I reviewed it back, I found many situations that occurred where I should act differently.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always from those who notice when the situation is over. I usually correct my action afterwards or at least try to make things fine later on. Usually, I think of my self as a human being, someone who makes mistakes and try to correct them later and that is it. Life goes, and the same thing is repeated from time to time.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that I experienced this too many times the past couple of days, which means that I am ultimately not fine. I shock my self with words that I say and tunes I speak through, but the shock doesn’t overwhelm me, as I never do this to someone who didn’t act the same way with me before (though I know it doesn’t give me an excuse I know). TODAY, The shock paralyzed me for seconds. It was like I suddenly stopped breathing and every thing was shuttering down. What happened was something trivial in its appearance, its depth was only inside. What shocked me was that I experienced something for the first time, something I was aware of but never experienced so much clearly. It was that sometimes, there are things that can be lost in a second, Feelings than can be killed in a glance, relations that can end in a minute. Sometimes there are no second chances, what so ever no matter how hard you try. And if you are a fair person, someone who can notice his/her own mistakes, you will know how you should have handled the situation. You would feel that no matter what was making you upset, and whatever was waiting that made you too much in a hurry, doesn’t deserve losing what you lost, or hurting the one you care for. You will realize that nothing deserves shouting in a face of a friend, or hitting someone in your way, or forgetting to share a nice moment with a partner or hurting a beloved one. You will know that nothing deserve hurting a beloved one and leave him behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I always believed that true relations never end. Friends, couples, partners, we all should support each other in such moments. We should understand and know when thing are said but not meant. BUT, now I am aware that people should not rely on this too much. Cause, sometimes we might not be able to forgive or be forgiven. Some wounds can’t be healed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Some things when broken, are never back the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I am sorry for all those I hurt without noticing the damage I might cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I wish this won’t be repeated.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I hope you forgive me, not by forgetting the situation or ignoring the fact it happened, but by understanding that I did not mean what I said or what I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I wish I can do the same with people who hurt me and left me behind.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-2359122928746192216?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2359122928746192216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/sometimes-when-we-are-upset-loaded-sad.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/2359122928746192216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/2359122928746192216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/sometimes-when-we-are-upset-loaded-sad.html' title='Some things when broken, are never back the same way'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/ScuAE_ZhsvI/AAAAAAAAAEs/EwRw4OQZu8I/s72-c/perfect+cut+pearls.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-2226775633168400599</id><published>2009-03-15T17:59:00.010+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T19:18:08.990+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif'/><title type='text'>يومين مع فريدة</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb00Q5YphMI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Za_MGFMLmuw/s1600-h/PinkBaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb00Q5YphMI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Za_MGFMLmuw/s320/PinkBaby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313460600253809858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CREHAM%7E1.EL-%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:applybreakingrules/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	text-align:right; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	direction:rtl; 	unicode-bidi:embed; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0; 	mso-gutter-direction:rtl;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;طول عمري عايزه &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;أبقى أم ويمكن ده ظاهرة طبيعية عند كل البنات، ولكن لو كل البنات عايزين يبقوا ماما قراط فأنا &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;عايزه أبق&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ى ماما 24 قراط. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;طول عم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ري بفكر في ولادي من قبل ما أشوفهم. بفكر هربيهم إزاي، هيدخلوا مدارس شكلها إه، هعلمهم أنهي رياضة، ده أنا حتى بشتر&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;يلهم حاجات كمان&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;. أفتكر إن وأنا عندي 12 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;سنة بابا مرة سألني لما تكبري عايزة تشتغلي إه؟ كان ردي "ومين قال إني عايزه أشتغل أصلاً، أُمال مين هيرب&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ي ولادي". هو اتصدم حس إن ردي غريب جدًا، ولاد إه ده اللي بفكر فيها من &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;دلوقتي، بس أنا طول ع&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;مري حسه إن أصع&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ب شغلانه في الدنيا هي الأمومة وتربية الولاد عشان يطلعوا عندهم صحة نفسية وجسدية وعشا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ن يبقوا عندهم شخص&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ية قوية وجميلة وعقل قادر على التفكير المنطقي والتحليل وعشان يبقوا عارفين دينهم ص&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ح وبيتحلوا بالأخلاق الحميدة كل ده محتاج مجهود جبار وتفرغ كامل&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;،&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; تفرغ ذهني قبل ما يكون فراغ في الوقت. وبصرف النظر من إن&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; طبعًا نظرتي للحياة وتفاصيلها كانت محدودة جدًا ساعتها، إلا إن بيني وبين نفسي في جزء مني عارف إن كلامي كا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ن &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;في جزء كبي&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ر من الصحة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المهم، دلوقتي أنا عندي 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;4 سنة، بشت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;غل مترجمة في إحدي شركات التعريب بتاعة "Soft Ware". يعني بالعربي بصحى كل يوم &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;الصبح ألبس وأنزل على 10 مثلاً مرجعش البيت قبل 7، د&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ه لو راجعة على البيت على طو&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ل. طبعًا برجع تعبانه عايزه آكل وأعمل أي حاجة ملهاش لازمة وبعدين أنام. لو عايزه أهرب من الحياة الكئيبة ده لأني مبست&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ملش أعيشها، بعد الشغ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ل ممكن أتمشى مع حد من أصحابي أو حتى لوحدي، وبعدين&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; لما أروح ممكن أعمل أي حاجة بس بهدف. يعني أتفرج على حاجة بحبها في الت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ليفيزيون، أقرأ في حاجة بحبها، أتكلم مع ماما أو مع حد من صحابي عشان أحافظ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;على الحياة والارتباط بالبشر :-(. عمومًا لب كل الرغي ده إني ولا اتجوزت ولا خلفت وكما&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ن بشتغل لأ وإه مش متخيله حياتي دلوقتي وأنا متجوزة أو مخلفه هسيب شغلي تفتكروا؟! معتقدش. طب هودي ولادي ح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ضانة ويبقى 60&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; أو 70% من الوقت حد تاني متوليهم، وهو اللي ليه التأثير الأكبر في بناء شخصيتهم؟! مفتكرش. هعمل إه معنديش أي فكرة، وأحلى حاجة في الموضوع إني أصلاً م&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ش &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;عارفه إمتى ممكن أبقى مستعدة عشان خاطر أضحي أكبر تضحية في حياتي وأتجوز عشان أبقى ماما :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;برده كل ده عادي، مجرد شوية أفكار في دما&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;غي بقالها سنين وتغيير وتطور في الشخصية بناءً عل&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ى الظروف المحيطة لكن بدون أي تجربة عملية وبدون تواجد حقيقي بجانب أي طفل بأي حجم أكثر من 4 ساعات متواصلة&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; في أي حال من الأحوال. وتستمر حياتي هكذا إلى &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;20/1/2009. يومها اتولدت الطفلة المعجزة "فريدة". معجزة ليه هرحمكم ومش هقولكم عشان ده حكاية طويلة أ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;وي حكاية عمرها 20 سنة. المهم فريدة ده تبقى بنت خالتي، أول طفلة تكون لحد قريب مني قو&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ي. حضرت الولادة وكنت معاها لحظة&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; بلحظة لحد ما سلكوها ونضفوها (لو كنتم شفتم بيعملوا فيها إه كنتم اخترتم نفس الألفاظ ده) وطلعوها غرفة الأطفال حديثي ا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;لول&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ادة. بعد كده طردوني بره غرفة الأطفال وقالولي "كفاية عليكي كدة" فطلعت أقرأ في كتاب بتوزعه شركة "بامبرز" على الأمها&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ت.الكتاب شدني جدًا لأنه بيوصف كيفية التعامل مع الطفل في كل تفاصيل الحياة الي&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ومية، شبه خلصت الكتاب وأنا قاعده. ولما خلتو&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; فاقت لخصتلها كل اللي قريته في &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;الكتاب.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb0zW1aG3qI/AAAAAAAAAEc/T23n7L4ZxeE/s1600-h/21012009018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb0zW1aG3qI/AAAAAAAAAEc/T23n7L4ZxeE/s320/21012009018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313459602753773218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;قلبي اتعلق بفريدة أوي حسيت إني خالتها الصغيرة، وإني أمها التانية زي ما خلتو كانت بتحس معايا بالظبت. كان نفسي آخد شهر أجازة من الشغل عشان أقعد جمبها وهنا اكتش&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;فت إن الإحساس ده لازم يتقضي عليه. مش عارفه ليه لقتني بمنع نفسي من الاقتراب من تفاصيل حياة الطفلة الجديدة التي كادت أن تذهب عقل الجميع (كلمتين عربي جمدين أه&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ه). قلت لنفسي هما يومين والحياة هترجع عادي، ومش هعرف أشوف البنت إلا كل فين وفين. وبما إني مسيطرة جيدة على نفسي فنجحت المحاولة بسهولة شديدة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;وبعدين جم يومين من أجمل أيام حياتي. فريدة باتت عندنا. كان يوم المولد النبوي الشريف، وجدو وخلتو وجوزها جيين يقضوا معانا اليوم، مكنوش هيباتوا في الأول بس باتوا معانا يو&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;مين كمان مش يوم واحد. إحساس إن اليوم أجازة وإني براحتي ومش ورايا حاجة كان إحساس يجنن. قضيت كل الوقت مع فريدة، وهي بتاكل وهي بتغير الحاجات&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; اللي انتم عارفينها وهي بتاخد الحمام الشتوي بتاعها باستخدام الشامبو والشاور جيل في قطنة وهي نايمة... كان إحساس يجنن. مش عارفه ليه الكلام هربان مني يمكن عشان صعب تتوصف حياتها بكلمتين، وجودها بيخل&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ق عالم جديد لأي حد مهما كان مين. عالم جميل وجديد ولا يقاوم. تلاقوا الراجل اللي مبيجبش لنفسه كباية ميه ممكن يقوم يحَميها ويقصلها أظافرها ويساعد في تغيير هدومها وتلا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;قوا الجد اللي مفهوش غير يا دوب صحة تكفيه إنه يقوم يقف لوحده بيشيل ويطبطب ويهشك وكمان بطيب خاطر وسعادة عارمة. وتلاقوا الأم عندها قدرة غريبة في مواكبة الحياة وهي مبتنمش غير بالكتير ساعتين متواصلين في اليوم ومش لاحقه حتى تاكل أو تصلي&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; غير لما تضمن مراقب حنون يكون مع طفلتها الصغيرة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ولأول مرة أعرف يعني إه أم، بكل ما تحمله هذه الكلمة من مزيج من الإحساس الفريد والإرهاق الحاد. إرهاق يجعل المرأة على شفا حفرة من الانهيار الذي يزول بنظرة واح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;دة من الطفل. مش كلام ده بجد، إحساس الأم إنها الوحيدة القادرة على تهدئة طفلها، وإنها الوحيدة القادرة على إشباع كل رغباته كفيلة بتهدئتها وإحساسها بأن كل حاجة فدى طفلتها أو&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; طفلها. محدش ممكن يتخيل يعني إه طفلة شهر ونصف بتعيط ومتسكتش إلا لما تسمع صوت مامتها، أو تنام في حضنها، إحساس ص&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;عب وصفه. وأحلى حاجة لما آخد المرتبة التانية بعد الأم. إنها تسكت معايا إلا حد ما، وإن لما تاكل أبقى أسرع حد ...(عارفين الأطفال لازم ... بعد الأكل) وأول واحدة تعرف إذا كانت لسه نضيفة ولا ربنا سهلها الح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;قيقة ببقى فرحانه أوي بنفسي وبحس بأمل يجنن، وبطير من الفرحة لما حد يأخد باله من تميزي ويقلي حتبقى ماما تجنني ولا إيدك حنينه أوي أو أي حاجة من هذا القبيل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وحصل حاجة بقى غير متوقعة بالمرة. ال&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;مفروض إن تاني يوم شغل، وإني هنام عشان اليوم خلص. كان عندي تصورين لليلة. الأول: فريدة نايمة وكلنا نحظى بليلة هادئة. الثاني: فريدة صاحية طول الليل وأنا هساعدهم شويه وبعدين هروح أنام في حته تانية. اللي حصل بق&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ى إن فريدة كانت نايمة وهادية جدًا بس من حين إلى آخر بيطلع منها صوت خفيف رقيق كده ينم عن عدم الراحة الكاملة. ورغم إن نومي مش خفيف إلا إن كل ما كان يطلع منها الصوت ده كنت أمسك&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; إيدها وأطبطب عليها أكني مش نايمة أصلاً. خلتو ابتدت تحس إني مش عارفه أنام وقلقت عليّا بس أنا مكنتش مستاءة نهائي. بالعكس كنت فرحانة جدًا. فضلنا عاملين كده حتى الر&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ابعة والنصف فجرًا حتى خرج النوم عن نطاق استطاعتي. صحيّت فريدة وماما وجدو وأنا وخلتو كنا أصلاً صحيين وكله اشترك في عملية تغيير هدوم فريدة في سعادة بالغة. ح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;اولت أنام بعد كده بس معرفتش وابتدى يومي بدري جدًا بس أيقنت تمامًا إني لو رحت الشغل هنام على المكتب خصوصًا إن بطني كان&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ت وجعاني كمان فأخدت اليوم أجازة. على الساعة 11 البيت كله صحي عشان يفطر وأنا شلت فريدة وأعدت أتمشى بيها في الشقه عشان هي بتحب كدة. وعشان بابا مش بيفطر، فعرض عليّا إنه ياخدها لكني رفضت.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فضلت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt; واقفة في وسطيهم سعيدة جدًا لأن أصلا حوار الفطار الجماعي ده عادة مش موجودة في بيتنا. شويه كدة وطلعت قعدت على الكنبة بره وهي مفرودة عليّه ونايمه. لو وصفت من هنا لخمس سنين مش هعرف أو&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;صف الإحساس ده عامل إزاي، إن أكتر وضع مريح ليها يكون وهي قريبة أوي كدة. بعد ما اليوم خلص اكتشفت إن أنا كنت قاعدة طول اليوم وهي على إيدي ومزهقتش ولا إيدي نملت مع إن إيدي بتنمل بسرعة جدًا. في طا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;قة غريبة كانت فيه، لمجرد فكرة إن وهي نايمة في سريرها هي مش مرتاحة أوي وكل شوية بتصحى، لكن وهي على إيدي أو لو نايمة في حضني بتنام نوم عميق وهادئ لأتني بشكل لا إيرادي منيماها على إيدي ط&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;ول الوقت. أقعدت أتفرج على أفلام ورا بعض وكل شوية أبصلها وأكن مفيش حد تاني في الكون غيري أنا وهيه.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb0xpCtLnGI/AAAAAAAAAEE/1qR179fNKD4/s1600-h/baby-girl-birth-announcements.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb0xpCtLnGI/AAAAAAAAAEE/1qR179fNKD4/s320/baby-girl-birth-announcements.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313457716537826402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:13;"  lang="AR-SA"&gt;حسيت ساعتها بالإحساس اللي كنت دائمًا بحسه زمان، إن كل أم بيجلها بيبي بتسيب كل حاجة في الدنيا عشان خاطر توفرله أحسن رعاية وأكتر وقت ممكن المفروض تبقى فخورة جدًا بنفسها ومتحسش أبدًا إن عمرها اتسرق أو إنها أقل من أي واحده ناجحة في شغلها. وتعرف إن ربنا خلق كل واحد بمفاتيح تميز، لو استخدمها وطورها هيبقى ناجح جدًا. وإن النجاح الفعلي هو تحقيق الهدف الشخصي من وجهة نظرالشخص. فأي بنت نفسها مثلاً تربي ولادها وتدخل بتربيتهم الجنة لأنها هتربيهم بشكل يخليهم ميطلعوش زي ما يطلعوا وخلاص لأ تربيتها هتفرق ويطلعوا مختلفين، مع الأخذ في الاعتبار إن الكمال لله وحده، هتبقى حققت حلم من أصعب الأحلام وأمتعها تحقيقًا. هتعمل كده إزاي، كل واحده وقدراتها، ولو مش هتعرف تعمل كده غير وهي متفرغالهم تمامًا هذا لا يُنقصها شئ ولكنه يُثبت مدى تمسكها بتحقيق حلمها ومدى خبرتها بقدراتها.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بجد النظرة الواحدة في عيون أي طفل بعمر بحاله والخبرة اللي محتاجاها أي واحدة عشان تربي طفل سليم جسديًا ونفسيًا محتاجة أكتر بكتير من كل كتب التنمية البشرية والـ"Soft skills". فأي علم بنتعلمه هيفيد بشكل أو بآخر في تربية ولادنا. اللي كنت عايزه أقوله إن صعب حد يستوعب يعني إه "ماما" لحد ما نجرب. وبالمناسبة ده أنا بقول لمامتي ربنا يخليكي ليّا وشكرًا لكل الرعاية والحنان ولكل دقيقة من عمرك ضحيتِ بيها عشان تطلعيني كدة. بحبك على فكره. طول عمري كنت عايزه أبقى زيك ومبتدش أحس إني لازم مسبش شغلي إلا لما شككتيني في إنك حسه إن عمرك راح هدر أو إن رسالة الأمومة مهما طالت بتنتهي والواحدة بتحس إنها خلاص طلعت معاش مبكر جدًا. نفسي أبقى كفاية عليكي ومتبقيش ندمانة. ونفسي أبقى متأكدة إني لو مكانك مش هندم. أما لفريدة فلما تكبري هقولك أد إه استمتعت بيومي معاكِ وأد إه صحيتِ فيه حلم كنت ابتديت أفقد الإحساس بطعمه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;في حد تاني نفسه يبقى ماما أوي كده ولا أنا مجنونة؟!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);" lang="AR-SA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" dir="rtl" style=""&gt;&lt;span lang="AR-SA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-2226775633168400599?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2226775633168400599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/2226775633168400599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/2226775633168400599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='يومين مع فريدة'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/Sb00Q5YphMI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Za_MGFMLmuw/s72-c/PinkBaby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-7125260896884084361</id><published>2009-02-09T12:14:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T13:02:41.388+02:00</updated><title type='text'>What are you waiting for?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SZACzHRGDjI/AAAAAAAAAD0/rcmV_d693J8/s1600-h/541942034rPdEvr_fs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SZACzHRGDjI/AAAAAAAAAD0/rcmV_d693J8/s320/541942034rPdEvr_fs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300739838562405938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Waiting!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Does this word make an echo inside you? For me, it certainly does. All of my life I have been waiting; waiting for something to happen, waiting for things to have; waiting for people to walk into my life, waiting for others to walk away, waiting for me to take the next step and keep on waiting and waiting till my fate takes this step for me or at least minimize my options. I was like this till I suddenly realized that by this, I am waiting for something to happen, so I can start living, though my life already started a long time ago…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Right then I decided that I am done waiting. I learned that if I want something, I shouldn’t wait for the next week, day or even five minutes. I will do it right now. It is like magic, when you suddenly realize that there is no time that you are wasting. Suddenly every thing turned to be bright, and I started having a lot of fun. Finally, I decided to stop thinking, analyzing and planning things, and just act. It is very simple. Dreams are beautiful and relieving, but when they come true, they taste so much better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I have seen a lot of people who wait all the time, friends, family and work colleagues. A young man who is waiting to travel abroad, a young lady who is waiting to be married, A house wife who is waiting to get pregnant, a man who is waiting for a promotion, a family who is waiting for an opportunity to move out, a couple who are waiting for their financial status to get better so they can have children, a young girl who is waiting to fall in love….And life is on pause in each case, as if nothing has a taste, or meaning unless this thing which they are waiting for happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;I can not blame those people, I suffered from this my self. But I wish that every one would stop this bad habit. I am not saying that we should rush things, and do things without thinking, but we should avoid the paralysis phase of thinking. Always think in the direction of “SO WHAT?” Every thing you wish, for as long as it won’t cost you a constant damage, just do it. Peruse your dreams, wish for them, act to have them, but don’t wait for them to happen by themselves. If those dreams are not totally in your hand, if they depend on the existence of someone else, or if they totally depend on God (ie; Birth, Death, and Livelihood), then you have to believe in God, and believe that every thing is meant to be done at a specific time and that God has better plans for you than what you have for your self. So, just drop the fact that you are waiting for this dream to happen. Search for things which bring you joy, fulfill your needs, and explore your talents. Stay with people who care for you the most, motivate your self, and be your best friend when needed. It is beautiful when you feel self sufficient and self dependent, but it is even more beautiful when you have people to back you up and support you though you are self sufficient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Waiting is sometimes tempting I know, it is a very comfortable escape, but you know what yo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SZACSHw0flI/AAAAAAAAADk/wLuq6guAaQY/s1600-h/parachute-jump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SZACSHw0flI/AAAAAAAAADk/wLuq6guAaQY/s320/parachute-jump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300739271759789650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;u are escaping from, your escaping from your life. And if you feel it is not worth living, then make it so. No one will come and make your life in the color you want to see it with. Believe me, no matter what your waiting for, it is not the clue to live the life you want to live. Life is like a puzzle, it consists of elements that you pick to form your own view of it. Whether it is &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;bright&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;gloomy&lt;/span&gt;, whether each element is &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;interconnected&lt;/span&gt; with the other, or they are&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not relative&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, whether it creates a &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;comfy balance&lt;/span&gt; or a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;total funny chaos&lt;/span&gt;, it is always your choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-7125260896884084361?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7125260896884084361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-are-you-waiting-for.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/7125260896884084361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/7125260896884084361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-are-you-waiting-for.html' title='What are you waiting for?'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SZACzHRGDjI/AAAAAAAAAD0/rcmV_d693J8/s72-c/541942034rPdEvr_fs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-8160976182812704583</id><published>2009-02-08T16:04:00.011+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:27:52.899+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is too short to live it as someone else</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7pVvWtj6I/AAAAAAAAADc/-3g8MD398a4/s1600-h/ist2_3038103-confused-girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7pVvWtj6I/AAAAAAAAADc/-3g8MD398a4/s320/ist2_3038103-confused-girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300430371159904162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CREHAM%7E1.EL-%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;link rel="Edit-Time-Data" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CREHAM%7E1.EL-%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_editdata.mso"&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt; &lt;style&gt; v\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} o\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} w\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} .shape {behavior:url(#default#VML);} &lt;/style&gt; 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	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	text-align:right; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	direction:rtl; 	unicode-bidi:embed; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl" style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7m_rWScQI/AAAAAAAAAC0/b0yTNeDA9tg/s1600-h/ist2_3038103-confused-girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"&gt;  &lt;v:stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;  &lt;v:formulas&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;  &lt;/v:formulas&gt;  &lt;v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"&gt;  &lt;o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"&gt; &lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300427793104007426" spid="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7m_rWScQI/AAAAAAAAAC0/b0yTNeDA9tg/s1600-h/ist2_3038103-confused-girl.jpg" style="'width:240pt;height:159.75pt'" button="t"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\REHAM~1.EL-\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image001.jpg" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7m_rWScQI/AAAAAAAAAC0/b0yTNeDA9tg/s320/ist2_3038103-confused-girl.jpg"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I need time (time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Love (love)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Joy (joy)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need space&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Action!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Say hello to the girl that I am!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;You're gonna have to see through my perspective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I need to make mistakes just to learn who I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;And I don't wanna be so damn protected&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There must be another way&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I believe in taking chances&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who am I to say&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a girl is to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;God, I need some answers&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I to do with my life&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You will find it out don't w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;orry)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;How Am I supposed to know what's right?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You just got to do it your way)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help the way I feel&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my life has been so overprotected&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need nobody's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Tellin me just what I wanna&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I what what what I'm gonna&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do about my destiny&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Say No, No&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nobody's telling me just what what what I wanna do, do&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;I'm so fed up with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt; people telling me to be Someone else but me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;(Britney Spears song: “Overprotected”)&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not believe that after all the time that passed, I will feel this.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I can not remember the last time this thought conquered my head, not in the past 2 years at least. But before that, most of my life I was usually under the pressure of pleasing every body around. Every one figured me in a certain template and expects me to be just like he/she imagined. For sure I always failed, cause by time I realized that I am fighting for nothing, Consequently, I suddenly stop doing the things I did not want to do from the first place. By 18, I realized that I do not have to start walking on the same track and stop in the middle of it. I can simply refuse to go through it and that is it. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;t took me too long to start acting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7o44SDL3I/AAAAAAAAADM/Bex-TuubZwQ/s1600-h/confronting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 111px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7o44SDL3I/AAAAAAAAADM/Bex-TuubZwQ/s200/confronting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300429875340062578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; “RIGHT” for the sake of myself. They never realized the pressure they exerted on me. It was always subtle, and for them I was always stubborn and I never listened. They never knew that I might fight and yell, and then between me and my self I try to be the one they wanted me to be or at least consider it. After college, things were settled, I was fine with my life, things were going great, I was proving every word I ever said through out my life. I proved I am capable of adapting, I proved I am capable of succeeding in whatever I would do, and I proved that every thing is meant to be done at a certain time by God's will. I stopped listening to what they say, and I did whatever I like. Those days were nice, and very comfortable. So &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I can’t believe that I can return to where I was. I hate it when I am not fine, when I am not stable, I hate it when I am like that. Yet still, I don’t want to pay the price of needing help, by let them set a pattern for me and expects me to fit in. I may be messed up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7pCcG7HYI/AAAAAAAAADU/CWOTiu5hQ1A/s1600-h/girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7pCcG7HYI/AAAAAAAAADU/CWOTiu5hQ1A/s200/girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300430039575895426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;, lost, and unstable now, but soon I will figure out what I would do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; When I am ready, I will take the right steps in the right direction “from my perspective” and I will be ok, simply because I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;did it my way.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-8160976182812704583?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8160976182812704583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-is-too-short-to-live-it-as-someone.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/8160976182812704583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/8160976182812704583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-is-too-short-to-live-it-as-someone.html' title='Life is too short to live it as someone else'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SY7pVvWtj6I/AAAAAAAAADc/-3g8MD398a4/s72-c/ist2_3038103-confused-girl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-6093612959619413016</id><published>2009-02-05T16:40:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:32:27.400+02:00</updated><title type='text'>When I knew how to speak from my heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYr61c025eI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-9G0i2mCmkA/s1600-h/flyaway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYr61c025eI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-9G0i2mCmkA/s320/flyaway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299323707732714978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;I have been waiting for you for so long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming for the day you will enter my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till I almost lost hope and felt that this dream is wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And threw my dreams away, which hurt me like being stabbed with a knife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept telling my self "I will punish him, and when he is here he will find any one but me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that no matter what you would do, I will be tough, harsh and strong for eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was done waiting, for you, and for all my dreams to come true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I got used to this, to clours like red and orange, and forgot about the blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly, something happened, when I found you close&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were so gentle and tender, and you treated me just like a rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let you in my world, I did not think much, not little not at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And found my self so courageous, and ready to risk it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You came, to make me miss my self, yet feel born again at the same time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought back what was best in me, while retaining the new ME that prime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You collected my forsaken dreams back in a box, and asked me to believe again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I am scared to do so, but ..................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you know how much this means to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That with every second by your side, you are saving me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know how happy I am for dreaming and believing once more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if also you know how much I suffered for all those years I was waiting for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for you to kidnap me to rescue me to save me from all my fears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for only you, to take care of me and wipe away my tears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know all this, you would know how I feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would know how happy yet scared I am to have you in my life for real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I am scared to the extent that I try so hard not to feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to feel any of this happiness, security, or any of the love you appeal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to end up this fuss in my head, to let it vanish now and forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell my self "come on think of those times when you will be his (in all the meaning of this word)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes and I imagine, ................then words cant describe no more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rhymes are gone from my head, the words vanish, and I can’t say any thing any more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I describe the feeling of a lost person who finally finds the shore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No words can describe it, and I have to stop writing cause every one is wondering whom I am writing this for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24th March 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-6093612959619413016?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6093612959619413016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-been-waiting-for-you-for-so-long.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/6093612959619413016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/6093612959619413016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-been-waiting-for-you-for-so-long.html' title='When I knew how to speak from my heart'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYr61c025eI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-9G0i2mCmkA/s72-c/flyaway.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-4207976898613679717</id><published>2009-02-05T12:41:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T16:06:41.674+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A part of me thinks of you as my enemy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYrxQYYDFZI/AAAAAAAAABc/pATJO7-RppY/s1600-h/the+break+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYrxQYYDFZI/AAAAAAAAABc/pATJO7-RppY/s320/the+break+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299313175278327186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;A part of me thinks of you as my enemy, or may be not really my enemy, but some one that is not on my side within certain contexts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can not imagine how bad I feel when this thought conquers me. It feels like I can not trust you enough, and that we might be drifted apart all of a sudden, not particularly for something that is worth it. We might fight over a stupid thought just cause we are not on same side. Imagine if one day we face a real problem, or have an issue going on between us. Imagine if other people are involved. I am no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;t sure we will be together by the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you only sees your self in the mirror, considering only what you feel and think. By this you will never see my point of view, or understand the way I feel. If this is happening now, so what is happening next? I might go along with this at first, but later on I will give up on every thing, including me and you. I suffered so much from people of this kind, suffered from being not considered. So when things go on like this, and no one considers my thoughts and feelings, I start considering my self. And right then, we won’t be on the same side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from this, there is something that tears me apart. It is when I feel for you while feeling that I should not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYrx_iDVmAI/AAAAAAAAABk/FuIzJ93Dd60/s1600-h/breakp4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYrx_iDVmAI/AAAAAAAAABk/FuIzJ93Dd60/s200/breakp4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299313985329666050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;When I feel that I am stupid for letting you feel comfortable that I am by your side. When you take me for granted, I hate my self for it, I even hate you too. And I set us apart for awhile, as a punishment for both of us. Things can work for a while, then get messed up again. I start to resent you, your existence in my life, and every thing that has to do with you. I am caught in the middle between the joy of feeling that I am finally yours and the resentment of the feeling of being taken for granted. I do not know what to do with my self or with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Would you figure out a solution before I do? As my solution will be harsh for me and you, and I don't want to end up alone without you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dedicated for all the ladies who have been taken for granted, and who suffered from their partners' selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-4207976898613679717?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4207976898613679717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/part-of-me-thinks-of-you-as-my-enemy.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/4207976898613679717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/4207976898613679717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/part-of-me-thinks-of-you-as-my-enemy.html' title='A part of me thinks of you as my enemy'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYrxQYYDFZI/AAAAAAAAABc/pATJO7-RppY/s72-c/the+break+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-8564001117193408361</id><published>2009-01-29T15:02:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T15:13:39.688+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can Be in Love with a Vampire, but...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGreEZ0o-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/FMFvuWuR11g/s1600-h/twilightposter1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGreEZ0o-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/FMFvuWuR11g/s320/twilightposter1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296703169830888418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Have you seen the movie Twilight? Imagine a 17 years old girl falling in love with a vampire, I know some of you will think like “what is this crab" and some others will think "Love is blind so any thing regarding love could happen". After all, it is just a movie, so the director and the story writer are free to do what they want. The issue is that when I saw the movie and put my self in the shoes of belle (the heroine), I felt that I won't help falling in love with the vampire young man. Imagine if you have some one who is always there for you, to protect you, to care for you, and even to watch you sleeping. Whenever you call for him he will be right infront of you, whatever you want or need he will get for you, and above all, he puts you first before him self in every step he takes and every decision he makes. He resists the most things he ever wanted in his whole life and fights him self to stay in control all the time for your own sake. Won't you be in love with such a man? Even though he is a vampire? Especially when you know that he does not kill humans, because he avoids being a monster and that deep inside of him he is very kind! When you love someone you take him/her as a package, with his bright and dark sides, with his good and bad deeds. And by this you are not blinded, you are totally aware of your beloved's characteristics, and you know how to deal with his/her faults and flaws. And here comes the catastrophe, I can imagine my self falling in love with a kind vampire, but I can’t be in love with any ordinary man. Why is it that complicated? I am fully aware of the necessity to make compromises and that no body is perfect, then what? High expectations?, strict demands?, or  being scared?!!! I guess every person has a key to his/her heart, is my key lost? I just want a man who can love me truly and unconditionally. A man who makes me win over his selfishness, a man who I can trust and rely on. Someone who can understand how I think and feel and who can deal with those thoughts and feelings. Someone who can make me want to stop resisting him, and even make it easy for me. Do you think such a man exists? Or it is enough to dream of the vampire young man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-8564001117193408361?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8564001117193408361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-can-be-in-love-with-vampire-but.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/8564001117193408361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/8564001117193408361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-can-be-in-love-with-vampire-but.html' title='I Can Be in Love with a Vampire, but...'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGreEZ0o-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/FMFvuWuR11g/s72-c/twilightposter1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-3180965518994544343</id><published>2009-01-29T14:10:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T14:52:58.398+02:00</updated><title type='text'>You are losing me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGmiv_SZqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/atyHr8BTdEs/s1600-h/pride-and-prejudice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGmiv_SZqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/atyHr8BTdEs/s320/pride-and-prejudice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296697752692090530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are losing me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are losing the glance I used to see you with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are missing the way I used to feel for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;The feeling of love that I never thought I will show for any one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;The feeling of care that always relieve you and make you feel safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are missing the heart which kept him self only for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are losing the mind who always believed in you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are losing the person who never doubt your being the only one for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;You are losing me......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Would you please go back to the way you were, cause I don't want to go through losing you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-3180965518994544343?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3180965518994544343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-are-losing-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/3180965518994544343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/3180965518994544343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-are-losing-me.html' title='You are losing me'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGmiv_SZqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/atyHr8BTdEs/s72-c/pride-and-prejudice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4907106694836464253.post-1195241198712315106</id><published>2009-01-29T13:56:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T15:02:07.864+02:00</updated><title type='text'>!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGoxBOeShI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_3WV9GugbxA/s1600-h/Cairo,_Nile,_a_view_from_Tahrir_Bridge_towards_North,_Egypt,_Oct_2004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGoxBOeShI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_3WV9GugbxA/s320/Cairo,_Nile,_a_view_from_Tahrir_Bridge_towards_North,_Egypt,_Oct_2004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296700196860611090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;I can't remember the last time I ever felt like this, this being “unable to describe what I feel, feeling that it is too much to be put in words”. All I can say…Let me start with this scene, Me infront of the Nile before Semeramis, at my favorite spot to have a "floka", the weather is incredible, a little bit cold, just like it was always in my dreams. It is almost sunset, and the sky looks beautiful every thing was perfect, and what made it even better than my dream is that it is for real, and above all, he was there, just the way I wanted him to be, very close but,.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Here comes the shock, I am stunned, fixed in my place, looking around and can’t make the step, can’t treat the surroundings as if they were,… as if they are real,…can’t treat the surroundings as the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;fact &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;that they are real. I started crying, I did not know what stopped me from having something that I want. After waiting all these years to have this scene about to be complete, I did not share in the final act, and actually stopped the movie for no reasonable reason. I have no idea what went wrong. Am I scared to have what I want? What am I waiting for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4907106694836464253-1195241198712315106?l=ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1195241198712315106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/1195241198712315106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4907106694836464253/posts/default/1195241198712315106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajourneyintomythoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='!!'/><author><name>Reham</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14776839016819590638</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9ggabzWOtAY/SYGoxBOeShI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_3WV9GugbxA/s72-c/Cairo,_Nile,_a_view_from_Tahrir_Bridge_towards_North,_Egypt,_Oct_2004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
