Adios

الأبواب المسَكّرة اللي مفاتيحها بايديكو 

لا تفتحوها

خلّوها

ما بدّي اياها..

بلامنكم 

وبلاها

لو السعادة بايديكو

وبيتوقف السلام العالمي عليكو

ما بدّي اياها

برضو بلاها

بفضَّل التعاسة

الي وللكون

عشان معرفتكو

زي الجنون !

والقرب منكم

اكبر تعاسة !

وعين التياسة !!

لا تحكيلي عن الحب..٬
ما بدي اسمع!٬
انتحرت الذكريات.
٬خلص الحكي..٬
خمدت نار الولع..
وراحت ايام الدلع..
جمر الهوي انطفا..
زيت الغرام خِلص خلَص
والقلب الي نزف..
نزف..
تَ نشف..
ما عاد هالقلب رجف..
خلص - مات الشغف..
خلصوا الليلة والألف!
وسكتت شهرزاد..
وغرق السندباد..

راح الزعل هوْ والأمل..
لا في شجن ولا في ندم..
رضينا حكم الزمن..
ما عاد في خوف..
ما عاد في دراما او نكد..
ما عاد في قلق..
وراحت ايام الغيرة
والارق
ما بدي اسمع حكي..
عن الحب والغرام..
وحكي الأفلام!
ما عدت انت الوحي..
مجرد خيال ومرق..
وقت ضايع..
من عمري انسرق..
مجرد حبر ..٬
..ع ورق

من ايش خايفة؟

من ايش خايفة؟ من الظلم من القهر، من العجز من الكبر،من الوحدة من الألم من الندم من الذل من الفقر من العنف من الضرب من الحرب من البهدلة والقمع 

lubzi Jan 24, 12:28 PM خائفة انو الزمن متل الرمل يمرق هدر،خايفة من الكسل والملل والوخم والبطالة والفشل من الشلل خايفة من القلة والوجع وسعر الدولار ينخفض او يرتفع 
 

lubzi Jan 24, 12:34 PM خايفة من الزمن. وغدر الزمن. خايفة علي الارض، علي العرض.خايفة علي الوطن.خايفة علي الطفولة والبرا؟ة خائفة من القسوة من النيسان من غدر الانسان 

lubzi Jan 24, 12:40 PM خايفة من التغيير والتطبيع من النظام العالمي الجديد خايفة علي الحرية والعداله خايفة علي الحقيقة من الكذب وعلي الشعر وعلي الفن والتراث والأدب

lubzi Jan 24, 12:42 PM

خايفة عالقوافي تختفي و بيوت الشعر تصبح خيم. خايفة كلنا نسكن خيم

lubzi Jan 24, 12:47 PM خايفة من ال 
racism 
وال 
sexism
وال
capitalism
خايفة من أسلحة الدمار الشامل واسرا؟يل وال
Zionism
خايفة علي العرب.
 خايفة من العرب.
خايفة من الجهل 

lubzi Jan 24, 12:50 PM

خائفة من الموت من المرض من المعاناة من الإهمال خايفة انتسي متل كأني ما كنت. متل الهوا متل العبث ما اترك ولا اثر...

lubzi Jan 24, 12:54 PM خايفة عالاهل. خايفة عالصخرة والحرم. خايفة عالقدس ورام الله وبيت لحم. خايفة عالطفولة بفلسطين تنتحر ... او تنفجر ... والله خائفة يا بشر ... 

 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:00 PM  

خايفة من ال
pollution
وال 
genetic manipulation 
وامراض الطيور 
والخنازير وجنون البقر. خايفة يتحول الشخص لسلعة تنباع وتنشري خايفة علي حقوق المرة

   

lubzi Jan 24, 01:05 PM
  خايفة عيني  تشوف ونفسي ما تطول. خايفة الظلم يطول. خايفة من ال
dogma
واهل التدين واللحي.
الألف المقصورة والذال اختفوا. خايفة من شركة ابل.

lubzi Jan 24, 01:09 PM خايفة ال
corporation
تسيطر عالكوكب والبشر. خايفة الناس تنسي الله. خايفة الله ينسي البشر. خايفة من الحقيقة ومن الوهم.خايفة من جوع الروح والجسم 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:14 PM خائفة من الدخان والسرطان.خايفة من البرد خايفة من بكرا خايفة من الماضي يلحقني متل السبع.خايفة من المصاري والفواتير والدفع. خايفة يتأزم الوضع 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:22 PM خائفة علي البدو من الحضر ... خايفة لغتي تتشوه او تندثر. خايفة علي الصحرا من المدن خايفة من الناس عالطبيعة والبحر 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:26 PM خايفة من الغدر. خايفه حد يحبني ويتراجع. بعد العهود يختفي. وما يعتذر. 

 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:28 PM خايفة همي يكبر قد الجبل ، ما اعود اقدر احتمل. خايفة اتعب من الأمل. 


lubzi Jan 24, 01:29 PM خائفة الخوف يسيطر علي متل الاسد. ما أعود أثق بحد 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:35 PM بالرغم من خوفي بستمر.

khaledhakim Jan 24, 01:34 PM ليه النكد؟ RT 
@lubzi: خائفة الخوف يسيطر علي متل الاسد. ما أعود أثق بحد 

lubzi Jan 24, 01:39 PM @khaledhakim ليش لا؟ أعطيني سبب

lubzi Jan 24, 01:39 PM @khaledhakim ليش العجب؟ مش شايف الف مليون سبب؟

I am addicted to حمص (Hummus)

TITLE: I am addicted to حمص

DATE: 11/14/2006 20:00:28

I am addicted to  Hummus حمص

I cant stop eating Hummus
عن جد... مش قادرة اوقف أكل حمص   ... بحبه بحبه
بموت في ربه


والله

شكرا يا رب على الحمص

Thank you God for the Hummus











 with olive oil زاكي مع زيت الزيتون

 and salt and lebon وملح ولمون


 and hot pita وكماج سخن

 



  and summak and cummin
وسماق وكمون

  and a fresh tomato وحبة بندورة



 






 and some olives مع شوية زتون






 God bless the Hummus يسعد رب الحمص

My feet are planted in the ground

But I want my head to be in he stars at the same time. to relax to the fact that things are taken care of, what will happen will happen and things are where they are and that is how it is . maybe there is a deeper meaning for things and maybe there isnt. But fighting what will happen doesnt make sense. it will not prevent it. and yes we do our best so that the outcome is favourable to us, but we can never control the outcome , just influence it , maybe - slightly. OR do we create reality with our thoughts? or prayers? I dont know . One thing I know is that if i am supposed to loose my job or home or money etc... it will happen, and just like a tree or a fish is taken care of I will be taken care of. history has proved it.

 

What makes my heart beat and my lungs breathe will keep me alive just as t happened before, lifts me from the lowest of the lowest to a place I never thought I will be in. I sometimes think that the collective thoughts of the people around us and who think of us in addition to our own thoughts is what creates our reality, or more accurately co-create our reality along with the mystery of God ... the universe ... what beats my heart and makes my lungs breathe and my eyes see...

so if you are surrounded by racists for example , and they all lay a negative discourse on you, say you are living in the heart of the most racist town and you are the only aboriginal person , all the people around you are projecting on you . they are dressing you with a particular discourse: the looser, the drunk , the lazy one.. etc... they treat you as such , you start believing them , if you believe in something but 1000 people around you tell you that you are wrong you start doubting yourself. They are creating your reality and you are playing along if you dont stand firm with your feet planted in the ground.

so there is a big story, everyone is part of writing it, if we dont pay attention who is writing our story , it will not be written like we want , we end up living someone else's dreams not yourself, lost , miserable, weak, self resentful etc...

BUT, what is the line between self deception and standing your ground, being egotistic and refusing to change or see yourself vs allowing others to write your story.. sometimes - actually more often than not, these things mix up in my mind . Once i let it go all the way and .. I paid a very high price. so I will never allow anyone to write my story no matter what.  I wont let it happen. Whatever we think we will attract - they say. So we shouldnt focus our energy on the negative and be very aware of the dangerous consequences.

الغصة كبيرة... بس الأمل أكبر

مش راح أسمح لحدا يهدني... يكسر نفسي أو عزيمتي

My inner Cat Blog

i know .. that sounds very geeky and weird. but my inner cat has a blog! Is it weird that I have an inner cat , or that a cat has a blog? or both?

you know how cats are, they like attention.
i had to post this for her ..

:)

My Inner Cat Blog

Hello world!!

'Hello world' ..

Our first computer programs... always have 'hello world' in them
this is not my first blog.. or the second..
why do i have many blogs? because i am a multi-layered person. my needs to express my layers can contradict, so i sometimes need to be several people, several blogs, in order to really express myself. It is never enough though. I can't even express myself fully between me and myself. my mind cant keep up with my feelings, my talent cant keep up with my vision , my poetry cant keep up with my passion, my mind suppresses my dreams, my conditioning oppresses my talent. It's a big mess.. what can I say..
still i write..

For you to be you and for me to be me

Allow me to feel my pain
Allow me to connect with it
don't dismiss me
give me room to breathe
I need to let it all out
it is poisoning my system
the years of oppression and neglect are getting to me
I need a safe place
give me your unconditional love so that I can give you mine
feel my pain so that I can feel yours
my pain is a big part of who i am
I dont want to feel embarrassed of my pain
I am allowed to feel it !

You say : move on, move on...
how can I?
I will I know - one day maybe, when I am safe
when i am heard

Marginalized - do you know how painful that is ?
feer hurts!
Exposed...
I want to be exposed to you
with all my pain and brilliance
my genuis and depression

I dont want to be embarrassed because of my oppression
"it is not an issue" , you say. My life is way better that many others -
But you know, it is MINE, my pain is mine- I am the one who feels it.
My pain needs love
be gentle with my pain
my darkness needs the light of understanding
solidarity

Dont dismiss me
can you accept me the way i am? with my beauty and baggage?
do you see my beauty at all?
I tell the ocean about my pain - the trees hear me

God hears me
I crave the unity of the soul , a community of the heart
communion with God through you and him and her
help me drop my defenses
help me get rid of my identities - I want to be whole when with you
how can i if i am not whole within myself?

help me break free from the grinding wheel - acknowledge my courage - my struggle
embrace my schizophrenia
my madness is part of me
my madness IS me

take me as a whole
Allow me to be me so that I can cease to be me
What I feel is real even if it doesnt make sense to you
Do you know how it feels to be jailed? stripped of your freedom?
do you know how it feels to be a woman? an arab? a palestinian? an artist?
do you want to know? do you care to know?
Does anyone care to know?

Why would they, depressing lamentation ...
minority colonialism feminism ...
identity stuff boring depressing activist blabla..
why would you care ? you were born up there
on the top of the hill

but if you want to be you
i need to be me
there is no you without a me
and only when you stop being you
is when I become me
and only then
is when I stop being me
only then
you can be you
and i can be me
do you see ?
what I'm trying to say ?
Yes or Nay?
Hey?
Hello
Knock knock..
anyone there
or just an empty headskin

let's both seize to be
you and me
and only be
a one:
'We'

THE DEPARTURE – THE ARRIVAL

On that night my friend Iman and her three children came to say goodbye to me, my father played with the children and Iman and my mother talked about things. I don’t remember what.
Three-year-old Raghad was not playing, even though her older brother and sister were having a great time, being tickled by my father and climbing on his shoulders.
Raghad looked at me and said (angrily), “Auntie, don’t you love us?”
I said, “Sure sweetie, I love you very, very much.”
She said, “So how come you’re leaving us? What is in Canada?”
I said, “There is a better job and education for me sweetie.”
She said, “Why can’t you get that here?”
I said, “Because it’s different there.”
I told her some stuff about the future that she didn’t understand, and neither did I.
I noticed that my mother disappeared. When she came back, she had red eyes. She’d been doing that every fifteen minutes. I held myself together perfectly. That night I didn’t sleep at all, I’m sure my father and my mother didn’t either.

Next day we were at the airport. I can’t remember how, but I found myself at the airport with my father ,mother,my uncle, his wife and one of my cousins. All I remember was the very heavy coat that I was wearing; I called it “the sheep.” I was wearing my sheep and feeling that I was about to die from heat. I couldn’t fit my sheep in either of my huge suitcases, they were full. I filled them up with things I couldn’t leave behind..

It was a very long trip, to the unknown. I couldn’t sleep at all. All I remember was the longest sunset in my life — it was almost three hours long. This made me feel happy and optimistic. I remembered a conversation I once had with my mother; which was more beautiful, sunrise or sunset. My mother preferred sunrise because it represents a start. Well, sunset is a start too, a start of a new night and a preparation for another sunrise. I was thinking that both are beautiful, they just have a different taste of beauty and one can’t exist without the other.
I arrived at Toronto's airport. My plane to Ottawa was late, so I had to stay awake. I was exhausted; I'd been up for more than thirty hours. I found sixteen cents on one of the chairs; I thought this was a sign of good luck . The immigration people gave me some welcoming brochures at the airport, and a paper that many people in the Arab world would die or kill for — my permanent residency paper.

Mary, my relative’s friend, was supposed to wait for me in Ottawa. My plane arrived at 2 a.m.— several hours late. I’d never seen Mary, only spoken with her on the phone; all I knew was that she was supposed to wear a green coat. I had my sheep on, and was dragging two huge suitcases while holding my Oud in my hand. There was no one waiting for me. People who were there for other people took them and left. I didn’t see any green coats, or any green things at all. The only green things were my suitcases..
I stood there, not knowing what to do. Suddenly a guy came up to me and asked, “Are you Arab?”
I said — surprised, “Yes, how did you know?” (I was still naive, I didn’t realize it was written all over my face, in my color, features, eyes, everything.)
The guy said, “It’s obvious, you look like an Arab and you have a Oud.”
He asked me where I was from. I told him I was from the West Bank. He told me that he worked at the airport, and that he too was from the West Bank, from Bethlehem! I got excited and told him that I was also from Bethlehem. He asked me which high school I went to. We discovered that his wife was in my class.
“Isn’t there anyone waiting for you?” he asked. I told him about the woman with the green coat who hadn’t come.
He decided that we should call her and take directions. He was going to drive me.
On the phone I asked, “Did I wake you up?”
She said, “Yes.”
I said, “Sorry.”
She explained (not apologized) that the plane was late. It was past her bedtime, and she had to go to bed because she had work in the morning. I lied : “Oh, it’s okay, I understand.”
She asked me to take a cab, so I told her that there was someone ready to drive me.
I thought she’d say, careful or something like that, but she welcomed the idea. She gave him directions. He drove me to her place.
I never saw him again in my life.

انا ما بقول عن حالي شاعرة ... معاذ الله Poetry قدر الشعر

Yahoo canceled yahoo 360. I had a private blog there that I shared with a few friends. I'll be reposting stuff from the old blog.


AUTHOR: DATE: 11/14/2006 14:18:09 -----STATUS: publish BODY:

i lost an entry i did this morning. a thought that i had when i first woke up. but no problem. i can think it again. maybe differently but the same still. so let me tell you... you? who are you??

oh now i remember some of the stuff i thought this morning, one of them was about why i use small 'i' instead of I when i talk about it.
By the way, this is not the main thought. the main thought was about poetry . or maybe i should say about ego.

I was thinking about people who with inflated ego who think they are poets or artists. They forget that a poet is a very deep word, poetry is not the chatter of someone's mind, or them venting , or them stringing together big words. poetry is something that you dont come up with . it comes up with you. it writes you...
هاليومين الكل شاعر.. كل ما حدا طلع كلمتين من تمه بيسميه شعر.. أغلب هالشعرا ما سمعو بمفهوم اسمه البلاغة.. و ما عندهم خبر كيف الفصاحة بيكون شكلها
يرحم أيامكم يا ربع عكاظ
انا ما بقول عن حالي شاعرة ... معاذ الله .. ولا بسمي اللي بكتبه شعر... في أسامي كتيرة الواحد ممكن يستعملها بدون ما يتعدا حدوده وحدود احترامه للغته
قولوا عني دقة قديمة.. مش مهم.. بفرقش عندي.. أحس ما أوهم نفسي وأتفرج على اللي عايشين في أوهام وقاعدين بيحطوا من قدر الشعر..
The divine nature of poetry . the sacredness of a poet. the poet ..the channel of the divine. the medium of god. not some kharabeet w khawater

على فكرة ... مره كنت عايشة فوق السحاب... سحاب صناعي.. أنا صنعته.. كنت كل ما بفكر فكرة بفكر حالي عبقرية بفكر حالي فيلسوفة ... مش اشي بحزن؟؟
It took me along time to realize how pathetic my situation was. and that i had no idea what I was doing , saying or thinking. I was just trapped in a little ego that has been domesticated in me. and that i had to assert for the longest time.
Fake clouds are very dangerous...
فن الأوهام
the art of self deceit


so...
the 'you' is whomever is watching me or my thoughts.. sometimes it feels like i am on a stage and there are these invisible beings watching me.. ghosts , angels, ancestors, the enlightened ones, etc..
there is God also of course . so I talk to YOU. Me also is another YOU .. my 'observer' . I am not sure if that is me or ME. i or I..

لمتى؟

لمتى حبك بَالحشا ساكن
وانتَ تِّمنع؟
لمتى روحي فؤادي فرحمتَك
وانتَ تِّدلع؟
يا قمر يالساكن بالسِما عالي
جيت اشتكيلك همّي والكدر
جيتك اشتكيلك وانِتْ أدرى بحالي
لوعتي عذابي بحُبَّك قَدَر
يا شامخٍ حِلْمُ وهيهاتِ تنطالي
يا بعد الحشا والروح والنظر
من يومٍ عرفتك سكنت بخيالي
إنسلِّ عودي وحالي تبدَّل
يا نجمةٍ تَلمع بالسما وتلالي
منك شحوبي ووضعي تِحَوَّل
أعياني سهدي وَالشوق يا سالي
بعد وجفا وصدود و ماقدر اتِّحَمل
مستوطنٍ بالذهن يا غالي
وما هقيت ذكري على بالك خطر
كيف انساك كيف انسى اللِيالي؟
كِلْ لحظةٍ في حضورك عُمُر
قربَك حياةْ وبعدك هلاكي
يا أغلى من اغلى الناس والبِشَر
أعياني الرّجا وذلّي وابتهالي
عْلامك قليبك اقسى من حجر؟
تسخر من تِشوف حرقتي ولا تبالي
وارجا قلبي الملتاع يصطبر
أضحيت الهدف وكل الآمال

ما اصدّق العيشة بعدك تستمر

For you to be you and for me to be me

Allow me to feel my pain
Allow me to connect with it
dont dismiss me
give me room to breathe
I need to let it all out
it is poisoning my system
the years of oppression and neglect are getting to me
I need a safe place
give me your unconditional love so that I can give you mine
feel my pain so that I can feel yours
my pain is a big part of who i am
I dont want to feel embarrassed of my pain
I am allowed to feel it !
You say : move on, move on...
how can I?
I will I know - one day maybe, when I am safe
when i am heard
Marginalized - do you know how painful that is ?
feer hurts!
Exposed...
I want to be exposed to you
with all my pain and brilliance
my genuis and depression
I dont want to be embarrased becasuse of my oppression
"it is not an issue" , you say. My life is way better that many others -
But you know, it is MINE, my pain is mine- I am the one who feels it.
My pain needs love
be gentle with my pain
my darkness needs the light of understanding
solidarity

dont dismiss me
can you accept me the way i am? with my beauty and baggage?
do you see my beauty at all?
I tell the ocean about my pain - the trees hear me

God hears me
I crave the unity of the soul , a commuinity of the heart
communion with God through you and him and her
help me drop my defences
help me get rid of my identities - I want to be whole when with you
how can i if i am not whole within myself?

help me break free from the grinding wheel - acknowledge my courage - my stuggle
embrace my schezophrania
my madness is part of me
my maddness IS me

take me as a whole
Allow me to be me so that I can seize to be me
What I feel is real even if it doesnt make sense to you
Do you know how it feels to be jailed? stripped of your freedom?
do you know how it feels to be a woman? an arab? a palestinian? an artist?
do you want to know? do you care to know?
Does anyone care to know?

why would they, depressing lamentaion ...
minority colonialism feminism
oppression stuff ... boring depressing activist blabla
why would you care ? you were born up there
on the top of the hill

but if you want to be you
i need to be me
there is no you without me
and only when you stop being you
is when I become me
and only then
is when
I stop being me
only then
you can be you
and i can be me
do you see ?
what i'm trying to say ?
yes or nay?
hey?
hello
knock knock..
anyone there
or just an empty headskin

let's both seize to be you and me,
and only be
a one amazing we

Rejection and realizing you've been rejected

I remember the first time i was rejected. I couldnt believe it. (we are talking about romantic rejection by the way) . I couldnt get over it for the longest time. I was so full of myself and couldn't comprehend, how can anyone in their right mind reject me. I thought I was unrejectable. Now I know better. I dont take personally as much as i used to. I realize people have different tastes and interests so therefore not everyone is supposed to be attracted to me. and when i dig a bit deeper , people who are not attracted to me I am not really attracted to them to start with, when i really look hard and honest inside myself , i realize that their rejection makes them look more attractive, because my focus becomes to get accepted by them instead of feeling weather there is a connection there. Now if things were this black and white , not a big problem. The real problem is when you are not sure weather you are being rejected or not, weather the person you are being involved with is just afraid or if they are really not into you. this confusion eats up a big part of the self esteem. and instead of focusing on how you feel about the person , you get sucked into speculating and interpreting this other person's signals (or the lack of signals)
recently i realized i have been rejected. i feel much better now that i am outside the speculation and guessing game. i hate mystery and guessing. so , i got rejected, good, better now than later, that means i am getting closer to my goal. i am burning down my rejection quota, anyway , someone who rejects me cannot be suitable for me . dont you think?

Emotional state

I'm feeling emotional, I know that is stupid. no, really it is stupid. nothing changed since yesterday, i only grew up one more day, i slept and woke up, received some more spam, spent a little bit more time on the PC and the TV, ate and drank...

nothing significant.

i feel rejected though. maybe because i am listening to emotional songs that are taking me back to times when i felt loved and in love. maybe because these songs are transmitting sad feelings. i wonder if i will feel happy if i listen to happy songs. am i taking on the feelings in the songs or is the song playing because it is reflecting my own feelings.

recently something happened , i met someone , and i got rejected, it didnt feel good at all. it clouded my judgment about how i feel about that person. you know what Madonna says? "rejection is the greatest aphrodisiac" do you think she is right?

The truth is that i have so much love inside me, that i need to share, to give, to express, and i keep on running into people who are afraid of love, i learned recently or not so recently that i cant express my feelings openly and freely, i cant be transparent. i never believed or followed that directive. the result, rejection or feeling rejected. having to swallow back my pride and emotional expression and crawl back in bed with old memories and fantasies of glimpses of loving moments.

Why do humans need love?? what is so special about a kiss ? about lips meeting? what happens when lips meet? how can people be so close one day and next day they are strangers. they hurt each other and say bad things about each other..

why does a song affect me so much? is it because it resonates on the deepest level with feelings i once touched and tasted? sad or happy

I dont know. i wish i knew, or maybe i dont wish, because at least i have an excuse now to be stumbling, i dont know, if i knew then i cannot justify my stumbling.

love love, they say it makes the world goes around.i love myself , but that still isnt enough, nothing is like hearing and smelling the love.

i am rambling heavily , i know. that is why God invented blogs , so that people like me ramble freely, liberally.

it will pass, the 'i need personal romantic love' fever. i think i like being in that state otherwise i can turn off the fucking music and go take a shower or a walk.. but again, no , i cant run from myself. in the shower I'll have me with me, i cant hide or run.

i tell myself this is only my domestication, it is all learned behavior. even feelings are not real, they are how we learned to react to different things.

In Star Trek there is a race called the 'Vulcans'. Vulcans were once emotional barbaric but then they decided to control themselves, they meditated and controlled their minds and emotions so that they dont get into the kind of emotional turbulence similar I am in today. they succeeded in living according to logic. But the price was high, we see in one of the episodes how Tuvac , the Vulcan became crazy eventually. In another episode it shows how when Vulcans are in sexual heat they are totally out of control.

The question is , will I even find the kind of love that i imagine and wish for? will i feel this real and deep connection with another person where there we become pure energy, where we merge but stay separate , connect on the emotional, physical, mental and spiritual, where there is no inhibitions and right and wrong, only pure transparency and childlike innocence exists, where play is the game, exploration of the soul.

bla bla bla

Subconscious mind

My subconscious has a mind of its own.
So there is the conscious , subconscious and the higher conscious .
the subconscious is the dream world, the conscious is everyday waking up awareness and the higher conscious is now another story. I wont even get into that , I would o on and on, maybe another time. Currently I am watching The Batman, very interesting, it plays a lot with the idea of mind power and subconscious, so for example, one of the episodes of the animated series, The Joker kidnaps Yen the detective - who is a friend of The Batman , He ties her up to a toy that would explode in a certain amount of time. The Batman needs to find out soon enough Where Detective Yin is kept before she is blown into pieces.
After a long exciting chase, Joker is caught, but he is refusing to speak. He has a strong will and a strong mind and wont give in to The Bat. So Batman tapes into the Joker's brain wave lengths and goes into the Joke's head, there a very interesting battle happens, the battle of the minds... Batman almost goes crazy, Joker fucks so bad with the Batman's brain, so what does our hero do?? he drags the Joker into his own mind, that is , Batman drags the Joker into Batman's head. There the Bat really fucks with Joker's mind, he totally drives him crazy and finds out where the captured detective is, he saves her life at the last second.
Yesterday I saw another episode about this enlightened man with a corrupt soul, he is after a special Gem, he has strong mind powers, the way he fights is by controlling people's minds, he controls first the butler's minds so they go and steel valuables from the homes hey work in and deliver it to him, he even hypnotizes Bruce Wane's butler , who steels from his master and even fights with the Batman. When the Mind Master meets the Bat a mind fight takes place. The mind master creates all kinds of illusions in the Batman's mind. The Batman keeps on saying to himself : " a strong mind sees only its own reality". and eventually is able to defeat the Mind Master and scare the shit out of him by the reality he created for him.
Quite profound , I think, no??

Moon Over Buffalo sound design

I'm have been working on the sound design of a play called Moon Over Buffalo . I am finishing up the work. I totally enjoyed learning about the music of the 50s , every time I work on a play I learn so much. At the beginning it is hard to absorb music I am not used to, but eventually it grows on me and I learn to love it. I am almost done. There was a last minute change that I put in yesterday, I worked for 9 hours straight, but that is OK because I love this kind of work. It seems like I cannot have enough of it. I only slept 3 hours last night, so I am exhausted and I had to miss the rehearsal - which is unfortunate because I just love attending the rehearsals.
So the suggested change was around the 1st song in the curtain call. Check it out below in the mp3 player widget. I have 3 versions here. The truth is that I am not fond of the last version, I dont find that the first song fits well within the overall context musically. It sounds very different that the rest of the music in the other pieces. Unlike most of the music that I used in this production this song is not from the 50s (I think it is from the 30s at least). I actually like the song, I can totally see why the director wants it there, I am just concerned that with the applause people wont get to hear it. I also dont find that it has enough energy for a curtain call song, where I would like to capitalize on people's energy and excitement and pump more into it with the music. This one it is not grand enough, especially for this high energy farce about crazy melodramatic theatre actors .
Anyway, I like giving options to directors I work with , I am offering the 3 choices and eventually the director gets to pick the one that will end up on the show.
Let's see what he will say. Maybe we will end up with a 4th piece. :)

Powered by eSnips.com

Moon Over Buffalo
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Moon Over Buffalo is a comedy by Ken Ludwig set in Buffalo, New York in 1953.

Characters
* George Hay, a traveling actor.
* Charlotte, George's wife and actress in his company.
* Rosalind, George & Charlotte's daughter, who left the stage to lead a "normal" life.
* Howard, a TV weatherman and Rosalind's fiancé.
* Paul, stage manager for George's company, and Rosalind's ex-fiancé.
* Ethel, Charlotte's nearly-deaf mother.
* Richard, a lawyer who is courting Charlotte.
* Eileen, an actress in George's company who is George's "mistress".

Overview
Moon Over Buffalo relies heavily on situation comedy for its humor, as well as some sexual innuendo and a little slapstick. The actor who plays George, in particular, must be able to deliver a highly physical performance; George engages in a mock fencing match with Charlotte, a wrestling match with Howard, and a stunt fall into the orchestra pit. The action and dialogue are fast-paced, as the characters are constantly bickering or frantically trying to resolve some confusion.

George and Charlotte Hay, traveling actors, are performing Cyrano de Bergerac and Private Lives in a repertory theatre in Buffalo. Charlotte has grandiose dreams of becoming a Hollywood film star; George, on the other hand, is quite satisfied as a stage actor, and sees live theatre as being superior to film.

George receives a phone call from Frank Capra, a very famous film director, who says that he needs replacements for the two stars of his current film, The Scarlett Pimpernel, and that he plans to see one of George's shows and consider George and Charlotte for the parts. Charlotte, however, doesn't believe George when he gives the news; she has just learned that George has had an affair with one of their actors, Eileen, and that Eileen is pregnant with George's child. To further complicate issues, one of the actors in George's company walks out. Soon after, Charlotte leaves George and the company to be with Richard, the successful and charismatic lawyer. George, despondent, gives up hope and turns to alcohol to drown his misery.

When Charlotte hears the news about Capra losing his actors, she returns to the theatre, only to find that George has left. Charlotte and Rosalind, her daughter who has recently come to visit, contact all the bars in the city, looking for him. They can't find him, but Charlotte does meet Howard, Roz's new fiancé, whom Charlotte's hard-of-hearing mother mistakenly introduces as Frank Capra. Thinking that Howard is the famous director, Charlotte gives him the "red carpet" treatment, for which Howard is grateful, but confused. And when George returns, he believes that Howard is actually Eileen's brother, seeking revenge for George's affair with Eileen. In what he thinks is self-defense, George ties up the innocent Howard and locks him in a closet.

When Charlotte and Roz finally meet George again, they try to get him prepared for the afternoon's showing of Private Lives, which Capra intends to see. George, in his drunken stupor, decides he would rather do Cyrano, and dresses appropriately. The resulting show is a disaster, as George is several minutes late to arrive onstage and in the wrong costume and character. In the end, Howard, still bound in ropes, hops onstage and calls out for help; then George falls into the orchestra pit, twisting his leg and presumably breaking a few instruments.

After the show, a sober George offers his apology to Howard. Howard is not satisfied, though; his encounter with Roz's parents frightened him away from staying engaged to Roz. He announces that he and Eileen have decided to get engaged instead, and eagerly plan to start a family right away. Howard isn't aware that Eileen is already carrying George's child, but Eileen seems satisfied to keep him in the dark. Paul, now that Roz is now single, takes the opportunity to (almost literally) sweep her off her feet, and they get engaged again on the spot. Charlotte forgives — or at least forgets — George's infidelity and decides to stay with him instead of Richard. Finally, in a deus ex machina-like plot twist, Capra himself calls to say that he missed the afternoon performance and will instead see the show in the evening, thus allowing George and Charlotte another chance at Hollywood stardom.

Production
Moon Over Buffalo opened on Broadway at the Martin Beck Theatre on October 1, 1995, where it ran for 309 performances, after 22 previews and an out-of-town tryout in Boston.

A video, Moon Over Broadway, was made, following the show through the rehearsal period and the Broadway opening.

Internal conflict

Have you ever found yourself arguing with people in your head?
I do that a lot actually, I just find that sometimes people that piss me off pop up in my mind and I start arguing with them, and they talk back and aggravate you more. So you'd be sitting alone in your bedroom but yet having heated discussions with people that might be thousands of miles away or ones you havent seen in many years.
According to the 'Stress and Conflict' workshop i took, these are not conflicts. A conflict requires that the 2 sides are aware of it, both perceive the other one's gain to be their loss.
The situation I mentioned here is considered internal conflict. It is in the confinement of our heads. For me though , it feels so real. It bugs me so much, it grinds in my head. I dont like real confrontation, so I solve that by doing it in my head. but since the other person(s) are not around to participate to a resolution or a closure, my internal conflict goes nowhere. So like a windmill goes on and on. مثل ثور الساقية.
I guess the 'right' thing to do is to bring it to the surface and resolve it or get some kind of closure. Sometimes the other side refuses to accept that there is a conflict. What would you do then??
I used to fantasize finding a magical button somewhere in my body that would stop the flow of thoughts and arguments in my head. imagine that, discovering that , say for example, pressing your belly button 3 times with your right index finger and then twice with your right pinky and then pushing with your thumb would stop thoughts. people wouldnt need drugs and alcohol then. But the question would be would they want to ever reactivate their thinking? they wouldnt have thinking to tell them to reactivate their thinking.
When I think to much like this I wish i can run away from me. but then , who is the thinker and who is the one who is trying to run away, and who is the one that is watching them and writing this story? God only knows...

Eye contact

I was walking in the morning under the snow falling on my head surrounding me with bliss. So white , so pure. What is it about the 1st snow fall that makes people happy. I look at people's faces and see joy that I dont usually see. It is like looking at children. they smile back at me with excitement. (monst of them at least)
This whole thing about establishing eye contact with people and their reaction is funny, here, in the west, when i am walking down the street and my eyes meet someone's eyes , there is this awkward moment. this happens only with non- children. they either quickly move their look, look up or at the ground or just anywhere but at me. some of them say a reluctant hi, or just slightly nod, some would actually smile which is actually nice and makes me feel happy. sometimes it actually makes my day. So what is it about eye contact with strangers that is so awkward?? is this due to the recognition that we are all one??
I wonder...

CommDoors Intro.mp...