… I….

…. Now I understand those who popped the question: who am I …I won’t deny it… I am quoting the question from a friend…I saw it a long time ago but only now I knew what it meant…. … Will anyone miss me if I die? ...that question crossed my mind more than once… obviously not…nut that doesn’t mean much…

... I mean eventually one is alone…even when surrounded by people…sometimes these people make you feel lonelier… at least when you are alone… you know that no one is there… you don’t expect that someone would talk to you… or would look at you in the eye and say…I understand your pain…. Or hold you tight and tell you that everything will be ok …. … I don’t hide…in more than once I take the occasion and call to ask about the people I care about… but no one calls in return… It is my mistake…I am the one who forgot the golden rule… no expectations … no disappointment  

J.Bourne

            His life started when a couple of sailors found him on the beach of “port noir”. The doctor of the town stitched and bandaged him and kept him alive. A couple of weeks later he woke up from his coma with no past, no memory of a past, and no name.


          Starting with the 15 million dollar bank account in Zürich, and which the number was surgically implanted in his hip, the clews kept flowing telling him bits and pieces about who he really is. Everything was telling that he is Jason Bourne the famous assassin, his skills, the bank account, his ability to kill, the people who were trying to kill him, and the people that he met and who told him that he was responsible for the latest political assassination of Ambassador Leland


          Everything and everybody except Mary, the lady who got trapped in his escape and who Bourne he returned to save from the guy who was trying to kill her…. “You may be able to kill, but you are not a killer” she kept telling him that… she was sure that he was not the man he thinks he is, and so she decided to help him…

          “ your face was made to look like Jason Bourne, but you are not Bourne that I know…” eventually we know the truth…no need to go through the details…how and why David Webb became Jason Bourne, you can watch the movie (1988) or read the book for that… The key issue here, for me, is Mary… and how, despite everything, she believed him, believed in him, she was sure he is a good guy when everything else said that he was not… and she was right 

Moments ….

They were wrong when they thought us that our age should be expressed in years…the times that really count in our life are very few…not long…and mostly not meant to last…they are just a few moments that we try to memorize and register the same way we take a photograph to freeze the moment so we can relive it whenever we look at the picture…

   we memorize them so later we can remember them…we remember the time when we felt the true presence of an old friend… or the time when one of our superiors cared to teach us something so that we can do our job better…or the time we did a mistake and our boss defended us because he knows that we really care and that we are really doing our best…or the moment when we felt the support of a friend…



We care to remember these because eventually… these moments become the fuel that help us go on in our life … 

...I can't find a wall ...

…I can’t focus to work…. I can’t rest… obviously I can write, though I am not sure that what I say will make sense… …It is not the first time that I get trapped in this state …


...I close my eyes…but I still see the pictures coming through my mind…and somehow the ear phones and the richest voices and sounds of the biggest orchestra are failing to silence the violence and the injustice …I am losing all my defenses ….

…one of the great benefits of studying medicine… and working around the sick people….is that it set the threshold of the worst that could happen at a very high level…somehow …there was always something worse than whatever happens… even this idea is not working any more…

...I, the master of denial, I can’t find a wall to hide inside…too much violence…too many people dying…too much fear…too many people talking about it as if it was an action movie… not real life…. It is very exhausting….even trying to ignore it becomes very exhausting… ...there must be a way…to find my neverland…just like Ophelia… I will close my eyes and see the day where everything will be just fine…
...this day will sure come… I know

…probably

…. may be  

the continuous pursuit of the non-existing

Dear friend…

It has been very long since the last time we talked together…I really hope you are doing very well in your life…you deserve the best...for countless times I said I will pick up the phone and call… but I don’t…I simply don’t have the right to do so…I can’t just show up in your life…say a couple of words… and then disappear again… as some say…every life is written by God…I think the things that I want to do and can’t are simply… not written… or not meant to be… …

after all we didn’t know each other for long… I keep saying that what I knew is enough…how kind and trust worthy you are…how you remember and how you care to do very simple things because you know how they can be the only good thing in someone else’s life… …may be my subconscious didn’t want to know anything further… I can’t imagine that one day I will find myself face to face with a fact or a truth about you that’s different from what I believed…it is selfish from me… I know… putting all the projections and the expectation on you… but somehow… in the middle of all this …lies a truth… I mean the gap between your truth and the truth that I believe cannot be that big…. …


what I have doubts about is wither you knew my truth or not…because in most of the times when I look back at the things that I did or said…I could see all the possible interpretations of my behavior which are very logic… yet not true…like when I get sick and need to leave to rest…I never admit that…I tell any other excuse… I may even remain silent and let the people believe what they want to believe ….and I am saying it now because I know that the chance that you might read this is next to null… …any way…

I wouldn’t matter now… I am afraid I am starting to talk non sense…


I am not sure if I made my idea clear... I will stop now before going through a psychotic attack …. my fingers are already numb…


From : the continuous pursuit of the non-existing 

Ofelia ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQ2Pswx2yeQ


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoN56mHkSJw

Ofelia… …though I listened to the music over a thousand times… I watched the movie only once…and it was about three years ago …so I am not sure if I got the idea or the philosophy of the story right… somehow I identified with Ofelia… the girl who was living a fantasy life…a life that she imagined and drew on the white pages of a blank book…which, too, could have only existed in her mind… a virtual life to live when real life is intolerable…even if our fantasies turn against us…we shall not give up on them…because when Ofelia did… and went back to real world … she died …. that could be so far away from the story... but that is what found an echo in my heart ...

متى سكن القلق نفسى؟ يقولون أن كل ما يحدث سببه القلق ... كل هذه الأعراض ... و لكن يصعب التصديق... لأنى لا استطيع ان اجد السبب... حياتى هى حياتى ...و أنا نفس الشخص الذى كنته الامس ... و من عشر سنوات مضت ... أذكر انني مررت بأسوأ من ذلك... و صمدت... اتراه عقلى الباطن يحجب عنى السبب لشدته؟ و لكنى لم اعتد الهرب من المواجهة... احترفت الانكارdenial   …طريقتى فى التعامل مع المشاكل التى لا حل لها لكنى أبدا لم أهرب... أبحث عن الاجابة فى أحلام اليقظة...فى أحلامى...المحتملة أو المفزعة ...فى كل لحظة يتخلى فيها العقل عن سيطرته...و أعود دائما بمزيد من القلق   ...