That moment when...

I feel that even if the world's sole purpose was to make me laugh, I won't be able to even smile.

Peace or Justice

You always hear calls for peace and justice but in fact peace competes with justice. The reality is often peace or justice. Otherwise the world would be a much better place.

Angels or demons

When I was a kid, I was at war with my older sister most of the time, okay, all the time. That was my mother's worst nightmare. Now I understand that war better. I wasn't a child who liked to play, not with my sister anyway, I always preferred to be left alone, not to be bothered. For my sister, she must have been told, even before she got to understand the words: you will soon have a sister you can play with, maybe to prevent and counter the sisterly jealousy that is surely to come. Then I came, and to her surprise none of what they told her was true. Her sister doesn't want to play with her. She tried all sorts of tricks to entice me into playing. The more she tried, the more I resisted. I think that I felt the advantage I had over her early on. I wanted nothing from her in fact, I was fine being left alone and she needed me. But deep down, I wanted her to try hard so I can refuse. See? who is that stupid who said kids are angels? They are not. We weren't for sure. It wasn't always a carrot she used, sometimes, she'd use the stick. That was harder to resist and soon she discovered that using force and intimidation to force me to play with her was more successful than begging and making irresistible offers. So I started to play under duress. My sister also hated to lose. So did I: I hated her to lose because there was nothing I wanted more than avoid her fury when she lost. I would give up the thrill of winning for that. Such a competitive and rebellious child I was! But for some reason, luck was always on my side when I needed it the least. In these games, my purpose was to lose playing against both myself and my luck. My sister was not stupid though. She would discover that I am losing on purpose and would ask me to play fair, she wasn't satisfied with winning against a loser but she still wanted to win anyway. So I had another challenge, I had to force myself to lose without her noticing. So I'd make sure to win a few rounds only to lose more later and make it look very challenging to her. I also had to fake sadness and anger when I lost. I win if I lose, that was my secret game. Naturally, sometimes, I would lose without any effort but I became an expert in losing no matter what. I was also the master of deception. These were the peace times though. My mother would see us playing and would be very proud. But at times, war would be declared. This can happen for any reason or for no reason. As I said, that was my mother's nightmare. See? my mother lived in the denial that her kids are in fact angels. When war broke up between her angels, she knew one way to restore peace. My mother believed that love was the cure for everything. She would stop the war by asking us to kiss each other. I played my mother's game the same way I played my sister's. Whatever you say, but after that, just leave me alone. I would kiss my sister with the same indifference I played with her. That wasn't harder anyway. She would sometimes refuse, get harassed by my mom until she kisses me and in her heart vows revenge. The next war wouldn't take long to start.
My sister and I grew up to become very close but looking back I only regret one thing: She hated the chicken I was and her rebellious side was something to admire not to despise.

When life goes on

One bad aspect of war is that we get used to it. The worst is that we even adapt. But the problem is that it is not very natural not to. I remember this man who refused to leave his house during the 2006 war on Lebanon although his neighborhood was under constant Israeli shelling. After the war, he was found in his house, mentally deranged. Everyone said poor guy the war made him crazy judging by the laws of sanity. I thought he had the only normal reaction. Life goes on for the insane in fact.

Prayers

Prayers are a time investment too, like almost everything in life, but this is either the worst or the best investment ever. This is more akin to gambling. My father would disagree. He would say this is the safest investment because there is nothing to lose but a whole lot to win if it turns out someone up there was counting. He would say there is no time to lose either, for you can always pray in your heart and that prayers are soothing, it's a win win situation. My father who I am sure will end up in paradise, if he had a winning bet, is my free ticket to paradise too, for it wouldn't be a paradise for him if he knew I am burning in hell. Right dad?

No I am not worried.

When I was a kid, I used to ask my father: what if, what if, just what if, there is no God. Compared to my questions that started with the "what if" back then, this was probably the easiest, though before I finished the first "what if", he would have said "here we go again". He said: I would then just wish there was a God. He was probably looking for a certain justice up there that he doesn't see around him down here. I am not even sure, that deep down, my father is a believer, I think he just wishes there would be some form of justice somewhere.

Another time, I asked him, what if God was evil? He said: you know what... I don't care if God was a TV (he was actually staring at the TV) then he moved his eyes, or a fridge. I think whatever he is, how could he have created such an annoying girl! Maybe he didn't say that, but, I imagine he thought of it. He must have borrowed something from Imam Ali that got me thinking for a while.

One day, I was maybe 10, I asked the nun at school: Why did God create us? She said: so that we worship him. I said something like: why does he need people to worship him, he has such a low self esteem! She said: there is hell for people like you, and kicked me out of class.

I went home and I said: dad, what if, what if... the nun was right...

Too tired to think of a title...

Can anyone tell me why all morning shows are dumb? Is this done on purpose? I mean is there a logic behind it? When I wake up, usually, I mean always, I am half stupid, it takes me hours before I get my brain powers back, and not fully back, the process is gradual and complicated. It depends really on the ratio of milk to coffee in my cup. If I am lucky and the ratio is correct and I don't go mad making another coffee, then the process can start. Otherwise my brain goes into a reboot mode that takes another hour, in the meantime, and if I don't find the remote control that is usually right under my nose, I end up staring at two pretty and dumb presenters, they are not even pretty to be honest, talking nonsense. With a half functioning brain, I don't need any more stupidity. That doesn't help. The story is that I couldn't sleep last night. I don't know the reason but I was awake most of the time trying to shut up my thoughts and telling myself that these thoughts can really wait till tomorrow, but they kept swirling in my head like a tornado. But it was one important night, because I left the bed at around 4:30 and that's a.m., very uncharacteristic of me, and I had taken a few serious decisions, and changed my mind over a few others. Besides those very decisive moments, I had a huge fight in  my head with a driver at work. This was maybe the main reason that kept me up all night. This driver has been lying to me over the past weeks, this I knew, but refused to deal with, until I heard how he was mistreating another driver at work. I went mad when I knew how this driver has been tricking the other driver and taking his overtime money. See? it is such small injustices that deprive me of sleep, big injustices, such as how the world is unfair and why babies die in wars don't. This I am somehow used to. So, I was sort of rehearsing a fight with this driver in  my head until I decided to leave the bed. I went to the balcony for some fresh air. It was freezing cold at this hour. The calm streets helped me restore some calm in my insomniac brain. I made coffee, luckily worked well from the first time, put the TV on, I watched a stupid movie for two hours. It was then, after the movie was over that I stumbled on the two dumb TV presenters. It was morning show time and it was a bad decision to watch, because then I got ready to go to work, remembered that I have to go fight with the driver, I put on my tennis shoes as one puts on combat costumes and head to the office so early, so furious, and so ready for the war. Then I see the driver approaching. What I said to him was a revenge for every time I had to say something and didn't. The calm tone I used made things even worse, the intimidation he felt was beyond anything I imagined doing in my imagined fight. I rub my hands as if moving the dust off in victory, leave the battle field and decide to call it a day.

Panadol

There are moments I think that if I can make some people disappear, I would cure most of my headaches and cut my Panadol costs!

I am not racist, check my Facebook!

There are poeple out there who think they aren't cool enough until they take a picture with a black African boy which they make sure to post on Facebook. Those are usually Lebanese. Go to their homes and you will find their maids, black too, sleeping on the kitchen floor.