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they say that people can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves. they can only know you as deeply as they knew themselves. & this depth, oh this depth is scary sometimes - have you not drowned before? i am not always courageous enough to dive into this depth. i am not brave enough sometimes - i must say. but if you promise to supply me with oxygen i'll sink for you. because is it not that pearls shine deeeeep down in the oceans anyways? & i will go all deep for that. all the way to see the pearls and gems of your soul carried by the waves gushing out of your over-thinking mind: from the good, the bad, and the algae! hah! ( : happy friday y’all.
song pairing: bahçede yeşil çınar __ Sometimes I will go sit in the same spot I first sat with you, and order coffee, just the way you always have it. I sit back, and watch the waiter pouring the coffee from a Turkish copper cezve to a demitasse from the lands of Arabia. The smell diffuses into my breath.. I inhale the taste & that is when I feel your presence in the air. & long for every sip that will reminisce memories, stories and new words of reflection. "Are they not coming?", the waiter asks as he points to the untouched cups served; he teleports me back to reality. And that's when I realize that our meetings are just virtual, & they only exist in the aroma of coffee! بعض الأحيان أجالس المكان الذي التقينا فيه أول مرة و أطلب القهوة كما تشربونها، تُصب من بكرجٍ نحاسيّ عثمانيّ الاسم و الطراز إلى فنجان عربيّ الصنع .. صباً يُخلل الرائحة في خلايا الهواء الذي اتنفسه. فاستنشقُ نفحاتٍ من رائحةِ البن المُوقظ لوجداني، فاستحضرُ الغائبين. فأتّتوقُ لكل شربةٍ تُنشط بها ذكريات، و يُسرد بها حكايات، و تُلقٓن معها كلاماتٍ كتلك التي أبوح بها عند اللقاء .. فإذا بالنادل يخترق خترفتي، "ستبرد الفناجين، ألن تحضر صُحبتك؟" عندها انطفأ وهج الرائحة بتنويهَهُ، فوعيتُ ان القهوة خمرُ غفلتي لا صحوتي .. و أن اللقاء و الحضرة ليسوا إلا سكرات تغمرني من وحيِّ تلك ما تُلهم ذكرهم : الرائحة! ___ picture taken in 2017.
Cairo from a bird’s eye view! I took this in 2015.. but I cannot get over it : )
home as i miss it! - (picture taken on a winter).
tell me stories about the changing of the seasons. & take me places you’ve never been to: one colour at a time. paint them pictures — these stories you recite. teleport me through a metaphorical picturesque. & then bring me back on the whiffs of your vocabulary. & hear me sigh. in tranquil silence i shall sigh. i sigh in silence - for silence before the eloquent is indeed eloquence. & silence is - verily - my only eloquence. - song pairing: birdy - words
nostalgia.
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