Gorgeous Alien

The tablecloth is damp. No matter..sit outside and enjoy the smell of rain on freshly cut grass..lose at virtual poker and run out of games to play..look up sewing classes..don't book any..you know you're never going to actually sew, don't you?..stare into your cinnamon tea for an eternity, witness it get cold, colder, then really cold..reminisce on the taste of sugar..take a deep breath..wet grass smells like watermelon from your balcony..it always has...
Reassess, it's a favorite pastime..revisit your bank account, anonymous donations aren't unheard of..daydream, at night;it's important..donate some of the fake donation you just received, get rid of your virtual guilt..and now travel.
Travel without bags, with no emotional luggage..go to mars and meet a gorgeous alien..forget about men with fake yellow teeth who dare disappoint you..audacity..what a fab word! Savor it..roll it onto your tongue and enjoy it, just like you enjoy all words..you keep running from words but words keep following you..what an adventure..the thrill of a chase and the volatility of an abstraction..you recently even had a dream complete with a word to explain it..even your dreams now come with a title, with a label, with the utter stupidity of confinement..inescapable confinement..you've tried, but you are confined..the less you say it, the more pressured you feel to admit it..the past is just not easy to escape..a horrendous task with no aids, none in your present anyway..
Tidy up your living room, it's said to lift up spirits..go back to your balcony and light your cig...look up to the sky, witness the passage of a machine..pretend it's a shooting star and wish for mars, for your gorgeous alien and his pearly teeth..

White Noise

Wake up at 3 am, thirsty, disoriented..Take a look at your phone, nasty habit..In your drowsy state, foolishly decide to answer that blinking message..Believe you are capable of summoning reason, that water will magically reinstate your mental abilities..

Using Facebook as a notepad is my new level of lazy; I’ve been breaking record times on social media lately in fact. I clicked the one thousand’s like on some random post from a random publisher on the site a couple of weeks ago, and it sincerely felt like the highlight of that night for me. 

Aside from procrastination, I have recently found a sudden interest in superheroes and fairy tales. When series, movies and books started failing to fill those humongous voids in me, I turned back to the oldest trick in the book, daydreaming. 

Daydreaming isn’t an easy task when charming princes and farfetched fortunes stop being fulfilling. Beyond that point, daydreaming becomes an art in its own, it starts requiring chunks of imagination sprinkled with intellect and a shy sense of adventure. It’s hard to break free from clichés in this field. It takes absolute, irrefutable boredom to push yourself in the direction of making art out of what you’d always taken for granted. Suddenly you start focusing on your imaginary expedition and before you know it, you realize it has taken a life of its own; it needs to be nourished now. 

But what is art’s worth without a muse? And what’s the definition of a muse if not a torturous creature voluntarily subjecting you to mind games and psychological disconcertion? A muse has swag but does not realize it. It knows it has got something over you, but is unable to label it, for if you knew what swag is, then you probably don’t have it. 

Usually, the fact that someone is interesting doesn’t automatically make me interested. But in some rare cases, you may be the most boring or neutral person to the rest of humanity, but to me you’d be the incarnation of some sort of cerebral heaven hemorrhaging intellectual stimuli and heartbreaking inducements.

Am I too lyrical tonight? It’s the muse effect. 

One of daydreaming’s many side effects includes an obsession with finding the best way to manufacture heels for mermaids, because yes, there are many, many ways to do it. It also starts seeping into your regular dreams, the kind you involuntarily have while sleeping. Combining your newfound daydreaming habit with an insatiable taste for independent movies might also increase your chances of having nightmares versus pleasant dreams, well unless you don’t consider the fact that you had deprived children of available noses when they needed them in your dreams as vicious. 

Stop by the grocery store on your way home..Get basil, you need to fix yourself a cocktail as soon as you step into your place..Pick an energy drink on your way out from the fridge next to the register..It’s raining..Stand under the rain, sipping a Red Bull, and decide to revisit the nonsense you had typed at 3 am last night..Cheese, all of it, cheese..

I started counting on my new hobby to get me through the days. It felt like an automatic approach to compensate for the infuriating way my soul is being eaten every day. It felt right to let the daydreaming take over while I, little by little, lost my ability to defend the remains of my worn-out soul. 

Creative daydreaming can only last for so long though. When the candlelight flickering on top of your muse’s head gets blown out by unexpected winds, you start giving up on the very lifeboat you’d began to rely on to save you from the oblivion of giving up in the first place. 

The best way to save face is to explain how your senses were clouded by midnight thirst..That’s what your silly mind, fuelled by the flying effect of energy drinks tells you at least..Trust your contaminated instincts and type..

It’s about time you acknowledged your defeat. You are just as boring and pathetic as they come. Temporary brilliant solutions or none, you have failed in the end. 

Cheese..More cheese..Who are you really? No really! 

Go home, resigned..laugh your daydreaming out..Build an imaginary shrine of the muse in your head..Decide that the best fashion to drown your sorrow is older than the oldest trick..Make cocktails, you’re becoming good at those at least..

*Author’s note: this dismantled, devoid of any - and I mean any - sense or purpose, is brought to you tonight by Jack Daniels, DeKuyper and Davidoff.

A Place In My Heart For Dubai

I am not sure where to start to describe this trip. It wasn’t planned, it was bordering messy even, but aren’t all the best endeavors a result of spontaneity and impulsiveness?

It all began with a silly FB comment I made in February in which I told my friend who is residing in Dubai that it simply isn’t fair for her to get the chance to see Julio Iglesias’s concert without me, and since it was almost my birthday, my good friend decided that my gift would be a ticket to attend the concert with her!

And thus hasty preparations were on the way as I looked for the cheapest ticket possible and put the visa’s acquiring in the hands of the travel agent while I busied myself with extra work to go on the trip with a clear head and a clearer conscience.

I had been longing for a vacation for quite a while, and saw this trip as my opportunity to finally do it, and so I decided I better save my money to indulge in my shopping there, but as usual, whilst the intentions were there, the goal remained unattainable in my case; I mean what did you expect? Lebanon was on sale in February and I simply couldn’t help squandering my earnings here and there. I did a more refined job saving in March though and went to Dubai ready to shop!

Enough introductions already! Long story short, I made it there after a long, and I mean long work shift and a car breakdown. I slept throughout the entire plane trip, except for the little hassle caused by the 50 something year old passenger sitting next to me as she kept hovering over me to look at the nothing beneath us from the window.

Dubai at first glance wowed me. I looked in awe at the skyscrapers towering above me, and saw the modernity of the architecture all around me with wonder. All the buildings on both sides of Cheikh Zayed’s highway made the skyscrapers’ district in Qatar look like a small, far away oasis compared to the majesty of Dubai.

My 6 days and 5 nights spent as my friends’ guest were packed with shopping and culinary experiences by day and clubbing by night. My feet asked for mercy after pacing twice through the classic Ibn Battouta mall and later ached while restlessly wandering inside the luxurious Dubai mall. Souk el Bahar also proved to be an excellent place to shop for souvenirs and trinkets.

Along with the shopping came the sightseeing, the restaurants and the coffee breaks which were all marvelous and worth the while; Burj Khalifa and Burj el Arab, the fountain show, and of course, Jumeirah with its various outlets to name a few.

During the nights, I came to see the other face of that beautiful city. Dubai offered me a wide range of choices when it came to nightlife, and each club I tried had a unique feel and a distinguished ambiance to it. 360, Barasti, the Belgium Beer Café, Trader Vic’s and People all were up to the standards if not above them. The mix of nationalities only increased the glamor of these places, and the obvious over enjoyment painted on everybody’s face made these venues all the more appealing.

Julio’s concert was magical, whimsical and touchy. I felt suspended in time as I listened to his legendary voice serenading me with my childhood’s poetry. It was a concert to remember with a pinch in the heart as my beloved idol poured all of his sentimentality in song, tango and poignant anecdotes. I feel lucky for having been able to witness such greatness in my lifetime.

The beach experience was also fulfilling as I plunged my toes in the white clean sand and tanned under the blazing sun between dips in the clear blue water. It was a very relaxing excursion and one I will yearn for dearly, as such splendor is hard to find.

In between plans, I spent a good part of my time there sitting peacefully on the yard bench with my coffee mug and Davidoff cigarettes. It helped me gather my thoughts and gave me the opportunity to enjoy a lot of quality time with my friend, to whom I wish to repeat my endless thanks.

All in all, it was a trip that I will look back to with longing for a long time. I shall always remember it with fondness, and nostalgia of course, as it is a feeling I find hard to shake regardless the topic.

Dubai, you will be missed…

The All Smiles Chapter

As usual, I have nothing in particular to talk about. This is mainly because I have so much energy right now and I am terribly unsure of what to do with it; I figured maybe the urge would leave me once I typed, and typed, and typed. I shall update you at the end of this post.

Till then, let us yap a bit.

What a fabulous month it has been! The only month I could link this one to would probably be February 2009. A lot, and I mean a lot has changed since then; but the vibe this December is generating reminds me of 09, of that particular month. I think what I am feeling is called happiness. I don’t believe I have ever been able to fully grasp that feeling, but February 09 and December 2012 may be the closest I have come to experience it on any scale.

I can’t even begin to describe what tremendous warmth it gives me to be surrounded by my friends. Life tends to separate us often, to send us each to a different corner of the world in pursuit of a future so hazy that it makes us sometimes wonder, what are we really after? But then comes the rare reunion, the ever so far apart get-togethers, and something suddenly makes sense, even if it is just for a fleeting moment. Maybe what we so harshly deem as unfair is deep down the only thing that will ever make sense.

Maybe I am being too optimistic - I know I am being a lot more optimistic than usual at any rate – but maybe I am simply being realistic – which I rarely am. Too philosophical? perhaps. In any case, I am having a rare moment of clarity, the kind of moment one wishes would never go away, would be forever encrusted in one’s psyche. It has something to do with understanding why one shouldn’t party every night or else it wouldn’t make one merrier every time. It has something to do with swallowing the fact that we only get paid once every month. It perfectly explains why I can’t listen to music every day, why I can’t watch a movie every night, why I am ever so rarely happy – or close to experiencing the feeling. It is about the wait, about the anticipation, and about the downsizing of expectations before becoming completely apt and totally ready to savor a moment.

I have come to realize that I cannot enjoy anything unless I had previously been deprived of it one way or another. One way or another… that is a song, one of many that need to be enjoyed every now and then.  Enough with parentheses though. One of the many things pacing my little brain tonight is how to apply my oh-so-deep theories to my actual life. Abstract relationships aside, I suck at applying any of the above. I am the champion of failure when it comes to depriving myself of dinner once every 12 months, let alone depriving myself of a cigarette or a drink even.

When does one reach some level of perfection, or equilibrium to be more down to earth? The word I am looking for here might be harmony. It feels as if I will never get anywhere unless I achieve harmony, one way or another. That is a song by the way, or did I mention that already?

I could be wrong though, I keep contradicting myself tonight. Because if I were to be correct with all of the above yapping, it can only mean one thing and one thing only: I have been preaching nothing but crap for the past 26 years.

And what if I was? And who really cares? And who cares about the new theory? Not me that is for sure. I am just writing for the sake of typing, of releasing mixed energies.

Will I ever look back at this article and wonder? Will you? Perhaps yes. Probably not.

Part of me feels like wrapping this up, getting dressed, joining the party, getting filthy drunk and losing my job tomorrow. The other part feels like…Well let us just say I still have a rational part left in my silly little brain. I am not sure which part I hate the most and which I hold the dearest to my heart. And since we are at it, what I despise above all is the fact that one part always wins and the balance is never achieved.

Is it obvious how happy I was when I started this and how miserable I became afterwards? It wasn’t intentional. It was influential. Call me nuts but I think I just managed to absorb some of a pretty boy’s melancholic vibes. Maybe I am hoping he will reciprocate one day, some day, under the stars of a silky raining sky, overlooking the lights of an ever so luring city, when the wait is over, when the anticipation has reached its peak, and when the expectations have simply ceased to exist.

A Slave of Complaint

It has been an ultra redefining week on so many levels. Well I haven’t exactly discovered anything I wasn’t previously aware of, but everything that had been happening with me or around me has reconfirmed some old theories and feelings.

I am a slave of my routine. Anything that interferes with my daily habits one way or another automatically tends to go on a blacklist that ranges between dislike, discomfort and disassociation altogether.

For those of you who don’t know me in person, here is a concise summary: I am your basic heavy smoker/insomniac with no car. That being said, it is quite understandable how a 24/7 coffee shop near home with an indoor smoking section can work perfectly well for me.

I have been almost living in the same spot for the past 10 years or so. The coffee shop itself changed, the people changed, the cab drivers even changed, but I am still the same. I come here religiously, every night, for the same experience, the same enjoyments, with the odd twist here and there of course.

So could somebody please tell me why am I having to undergo a relatively massive change in the space of less than a week? It simply isn’t conceivable in my mind; having to go from devotedly smoking indoors 24/7 to shamefully smoking outdoors 21/7 is just NOT fair!!!! Not to mention that I have lost the place as a depot as well! I know an explanation is due now and it goes – or used to go to be more precise – like this: The fact that I have no car and that I feel lost without my huge laptop makes me carry it with me wherever I go, and since on some rare occasions I actually have plans elsewhere, but must – and I mean MUST! – come to the coffee shop before AND after the night out, I would usually keep the laptop with the staff for the duration of my plans, and then come back, retrieve it, use it and go home with it. Now what do you suggest I do with my humongous laptop when I need to go out?? And how am I to use it before leaving and dispose of it then? And why oh why don’t I get the chance to use after all my boring plans anymore??

Rant, rant, ranting I do best! I know. But in this case, I have earned the right to do it, haven’t I? I mean come on, after all those years, you chose this week of all weeks to start closing at 3:00 a.m.? What does it even denote to close for 3 meager hours when you need an hour to close down and another to open up? Isn’t it enough that I now have to sweat in the heat and shiver in the cold just because I have been dubbed as an uncivilized smoker? I ask you, isn’t that a sufficiently undeserved and uncalled for punishment?

On another note, I may have become slightly superstitious this week as well. It all started when I caught the bouquet my friend threw on her first wedding anniversary. Does catching the bouquet really mean I am going to meet someone and be the next to walk the isle? And what exactly could it mean that I caught it one year too late?

On yet another note, there has been a lot of dreaming going on. Between the dreams of my relatives, those of my friends and my own, I have been stealing cars, secretly buying cars, and attending some very fishy gatherings. I have also been misplacing my clothes and walking on red sand.

Now link the dreams to the rotting flowers, deprive me of smoking altogether, send me to bed at midnight, and drive me off tomorrow to the nut house in a stolen green Renault. How about that?