One day I read some touching words. I copied them to a text file, saved it, and buried it among piles of rotten .txt files. Today I opened a grave; I tried -in vain- to remember who wrote these words which looked fragile and, therefore, tempted me to paste them somewhere, which is definitely here. .. تابع / more »

I knew she will come one day and say: “I loved you more than eternity and I’m ready to love you to my last breath, to the final drop of life in me. I liked your very smile making my soul dance. Just look at me. Recognize the red veins in my eyes. Why do you desert my feelings? Why did u fish in my sea anyway? I never thought you would venom my blood. Your heart shall be broken like rocks, you’ll see. You exploited my ignorance, my feelings, my weakness, and my everything. I am nothing. I hate you.” She sobbed, really sobbed, till the bones of my tongue moved and said: I am sorry.

The start of the end, I thought. Like a flowering tree in a storm I was; the flowers fell and I was unable to express my feeling. I vomited it. I squeezed my eyes. Rivers gushed out, watering my dry and solid soul. A dancing music from within woke up the sad rhythm of my symphony. It saturated the foggy atmosphere of the room, where a vivid colony of ants went on bursting tears and hallucinating; mourning the loss of the Queen. .. تابع / more »

Into my dim and innocent chamber, she entered, without knocking. Even she didn’t speak one single word with me. She didn’t recognize my presence, but just came in! I didn’t care. I considered her not a whore, although every filthy detail suggested that. Who cares? She stayed there for a while and thoughts began to boil in my mind. Who is she? Where did she come from? Why did she come to me? O forget that! .. تابع / more »

After sunset, I sat down on the non-weaping rocks of the shore, looking into the deep, dark, and silent waters of the sea, seeing nothing but myself. I turned my eyes up unto the end of the horizon, I viewed the phantom of unexistence; no ships, no color, but only nothingness. Everything was dead; the light, the wind, and the waves. I tasted the flavor of harmony within my soul. .. تابع / more »

When insanity becomes a hobby,
When people get drunk on water,
When the white pigeon becomes the slogan of wars,
When vice strips herself and walk naked on streets,
When coyness stands on roof tops and announces it’s atheism,
When principles go back on it’s words,
When innocence becomes a suspect,
When freedom is imprisoned,
When words lose it’s meanings,
When death retires from preaching,
When love loses it’s sight,
etc …

To whom shall I write?
I will write to my mad cat !!
Oh! I forgot to say: When writers write to their mad cats.