Maioush

Once upon a time, there lived a confused zebra called Me7tara.

Me7tara had never got the whole black and white thing. Stripes. She simply didn’t understand stripes. In her opinion, zebras looked quite like horses, so why couldn’t she be the same color as a horse? A nice unadventurous shade of brown, maybe? Or why not just smudge the black and white together to create a faintly uninspiring shade of grey? She felt that would suit her much better.

So, like any young zebra would do when faced with one of life’s more difficult dilemmas, Me7tara went to talk to her mother about it.

Mother zebra was keen to dissuade her daughter against making such an alarming change in her natural coloring. “Don’t forget, dear,” she said, speaking in her most calming parental tone, “Horses are quite unremarkable. And if you look like a horse, you might just get dragged away to the glue factory.”

Neither of them believed the line about the glue factory, of course; that was just an old zebra’s tale.

“But I’ve got a better idea!” said mother. And with that, she produced two tins of body paint – one labeled ‘Brilliant White’ and the other ‘Darkest Black’. She grabbed a small paint brush between her teeth and, instructing her daughter to close her eyes and stand absolutely still, she started painting her all over.

It was so relaxing that Me7tara, our confused zebra, drifted off into a gentle snooze. When she awoke and looked down at herself, she was amazed. She had completely changed. All her black stripes were now gleaming white, while her white stripes had turned to deepest black.

“Oh, mother! It’s perfect! It’s so vibrant, striking and … stripy!”

Me7tara felt like a brand new zebra. And she was, of course. She was a brand new zebra with a coat of black and white stripes.

Me7tara’s mother looked on with a proud smile, and quietly put away her dry, unused paint brush.

The End.

Remember when I was asking everybody to suggest names for baby boys, well guess what .. THEY ARE HEEEEEEEEEEREEEEEEE .. YUPPYYYYYYY :D

They are here, they are here, they are here, oh my god…

OK OK OK … let me take a breath here  … Yousef and Bilal, no I mean Bilal and Yousef (because Bilal was out first)  are here, my cousins are here, this is awesome.

They are sooooooo cute, la2 la2 cute is not the word, they are sooooooooo adorable, 2 little angels were born today at 1:00PM.

 On your right is 7abeeb albi Yousef, on your left is the adorable Bilal , they look EXACTLY alike, you can’t tell who is Bilal and who is Yousef  , ya rabbiiii jad enhom bejanenno .. I love them already

Bilal, Yousef.. welcome to the world .. I’m so happy that you guys are here now :)

Don’t believe that it’s impossible to disappear. It is.

Don’t believe that it’s impossible to step off this whirling world for a few precious breaths, or even longer, and excuse yourself from the screaming hubbub, the voices in your head, the doubts in your soul, the banal and the everyday. It is.Your route is lined with gaudy hoardings, each of them lighting your path. Follow the subterranean rumble even as your skin resists the heat and noise and your mind tries to rebel against the claustrophobia. Nervousness may well descend in the shape of ticking and twitching, but keep walking the gloomy, unfamiliar corridors and lightly dragging your fingers along the damp walls until you find the door. Open it nervously, step inside, close it behind you. You’re gone.

Stand at the stained and streaked window and pretend that you can almost see your house from here. Gaze down at the city’s patchwork and know that at this moment, you are just one anonymous number amongst the teeming masses. No one can see you up here. No one ever raises their eyes in this direction, since everyone is trapped inside their solitary sphere and too intent on reaching their own destination. Hidden behind these misty panes and fluttering curtains, you only exist for one pair of eyes.

Freeze five seconds so that they last for an hour, freeze five minutes so that they last until dawn. Press play and let the spectral essence fill the darkened room, increasing in intensity until the speakers are blown and you fall to the floor. Then repeat the process so that moment after moment after moment is drawn apart and rent asunder. Don’t even give this music the slightest pause before hitting rewind and starting all over again. Give yourself up to the glorious noise and swim towards the sound of submerged strings, drifting in the salty water and sucking in deep breaths of the elsewhere.

And all the while, you wonder if you are really here, if this is really happening, if you have really disappeared. The answer only comes as sunlight invades your tired, heavy-lidded eyes come morning, and you step out onto the baked and burning concrete to rejoin the human race.

Would you ask me to dance?

Would you take my hand in yours, and lead me carefully to the floor. Hold me close to you and caress me gently as we glide together under the night’s soft light?

Would you ask me to walk with you?
Arm in arm together journey with me as we whisper of our dreams, our plans, the future and all the mysteries we will find as we go?

Would you ask to hold my hand as we travel along?

Keeping me warm and touching my heart with your spirit? Letting it glide over me like the soft brush of a dove’s wing?

Would you laugh with me each morning?
Bringing the glow of the sun into each day, even if the sky itself becomes overcast with clouds of trouble and obstacles?

Would you dance with me amongst the stars, laugh with me in the sunshine, and walk with me along this journey?

It’s weird how we change by time, and I mean by that everything, our taste, the way we dress, the way we eat, even the way we think, and in an expected way!It’s really wired how time change us, hear and say things we’ve never imagined saying or hearing, and yet accept it, is that the definition of maturity, or are we really changing, or is really that we are adjusting out selves due to the circumstances around us???

I mean I would understand that people really change, but what about the fact that we sometimes force ourselves to change, and we do, we make a lot of choices in our life that requires change, so is by choice? Oh god, I just confused myself by saying the last sentence, Hmmm! Where is this going??

Change is good, I mean this how we grow up, that’s how we learn, that’s how we become what we are, this is how we become us.

Is it always because of circumstances, or do we meet people who change our whole life, and forever? Yeah, that’s actually another thought, we do meet people who makes us change our mind about everything around us, they change the way we look at things, they show it to us from another angle, they open the closed doors, doors we didn’t even know that it exists, we believed in before, people we admire and respect for the rest of our life.

I’m trying to say one complete sentence, but for some reason I can’t, all I know that I’ve changed, I’ve been known as a very patience, and understanding person, but now.. I’m even more understanding and more patience; I didn’t even know that I have it in me.

Now ..Wehre, How, and When did I change?? that’s a question remain to be asked…

Some people are just too much, they should be nominated for an Oscar for it.. I have no idea how do they manage to be the victims every single time, I’m so fed up with them!!

Whenever something happens and they happened to be part of it, they are ALWAYS the victims, poor them, everybody around them are monsters, people live just to hurt them, although they are the one who actually hurt everybody around them, but since they are the one who is whining and complaining and screaming, that means they are right.

It’s just so childish, I can’t believe that people in our age still act like they are teenagers or whatever, grow up already EFT!!!

 What is it that you want? Attention? Sympathy? Well you are pathetic by doing what you are doing, seriously.

Worst yet, if you ignore them, they keep nagging and screaming till they get what they want, and they won’t stop till they get it, give me a break, just because I’m not answering you, it doesn’t mean I have nothing to say, it’s just that.. Hmmm.. you are not worth my time, I will not waste it on you.

I really don’t’ know what to say to you, if you see yourself in any of the things that I just mentioned, know for sure that I don’t like you already.

Part of the process of living this life is that healing that comes from learning to “forgive” those who have hurt us, and forgiving ourselves for the hurt and pain we cause. It’s important one realizes that forgiving isn’t forgetting, as this is a two fold process. First it is making that choice, note “to forgive” is a choice based on your free will, you choose to forgive!! The forgetting is another process, as this process deals with our feelings. It takes time to resolve those negative feelings. It’s only normal to have these negative feelings from being hurt, yet in order to forget we have to accept and face what these feelings are about. We have to confront those “unforgiving feelings” with honesty and work through them. Otherwise, those negative feelings will begin to control your life, affecting not only your well being but those who come into your life.

It’s important that one realizes, that this process doesn’t mean that one isn’t responsible for their actions or the consequences, we all have that accountability. When we offer forgiveness, it doesn’t place the blame or imply malice. It’s that reaching out and inviting those back into our life. It’s also excepting that the relationship may not go back to what it was before. Keeping in mind, as it takes time for us to deal with our own feelings of hurt, we have to allow those we have hurt, that time to deal with those feelings and to heal themselves. There may be some hurts we may never forget, even though in time those open wounds can become scars.

When we choose to forgive someone, we have to offer that forgiveness unconditionally. I had a friend tell me, “I asked X for forgiveness and he stated he never would.” Throughout history we have seen families and nations suffer because of this “choice” of being unable to forgive. This act of forgiveness flows out of our inner attitudes that touch all of life and not just those in need of forgiving. Of all the choices we make in life, refusing to forgive or ask forgiveness may destroy more of life than any other single choice we make.

Once upon a time, there lived a squirrel called Mnee7a.

Mnee7a was the most generous squirrel you could ever wish to meet. Indeed, she was generous to a fault, and in her case it was a very big fault.

Like any squirrel, most of her day was spent scurrying around the forest foraging for nuts. She was quite the best forager around, a fact to which every other squirrel would jealously attest. They really didn’t need to be quite so jealous, however, because all they needed to do was ask for a nut, and she would hand it over.

“Oh, I’m so very hungry. That looks like a wonderfully tasty nut you’ve got there, Mnee7a. Can I have it? Please?”

The scene that followed invariably played itself out in exactly the same way, time and time again. Mnee7a would glance down at the nut she was clutching between her front paws, the nut she had often spent most of the morning arduously carrying from the far end of the forest back to her dray, and then – with only the briefest hint of sorrow crossing her face, just enough to cause a flicker of guilt in whoever was asking for that prized possession – she would pass it to her fellow squirrel with a beatific smile.

Of course, squirrels are always looking for a quick and painless way to build up their secret larder in preparation for meaner months, and so throughout the forest it became an easy, though entirely lazy option to simply flutter one’s eyelashes, praise the lusciousness of Mnee7a’s latest nutty acquisition, and watch as she surrendered it gladly and without so much as a word of complaint.

Mnee7a’s best friend, however, was puzzled and concerned by such generous behavior, and told her as much. “Mnee7a,” she said, “I’m puzzled and concerned.”

“By what?” asked Mnee7a.

“By your generous behavior, of course. Why do you give away all of your nuts? You’re a fabulous forager, and you should be keeping them for yourself, or at least selling them to the other squirrels in exchange for seeds or berries or …” Mnee7a’s friend paused and absentmindedly licked her lips “… those crusts of pizza that the humans discard whilst walking through the forest.”

Mnee7a blinked, wide-eyed, at her friend. She pondered for a moment, then silently walked to the rear of the dray, placed a paw gently on the doorknob of a cupboard and slowly, slowly pulled it open.

The tiny dray shook with a low, ominous rumble. Then suddenly a torrent, a cascade, a veritable landslide of nuts came pouring out. Thousands upon thousands of them. More nuts than any squirrel could dream of, even in their wildest fantasies. The clattering sound they made as they fell to the floor was deafening.

When the noise finally ceased, Mnee7a couldn’t be seen anywhere. She had seemingly been engulfed by the nutty avalanche. Eventually, however, there was movement from underneath the debris, and she appeared, popping her head above the surface then clambering on to the piles of nuts that now covered the entire floor.

“You see,” said Mnee7a, as she sucked in a breath and regained her composure, “there’s really no sacrifice in being so very generous with the odd nut or two when you’re far and away the best at what you do.”

The End.