Oohs and aaahs.
YES.
The Love Harpoon is in full effect.
I don't know what it is, how it is, why it's here and where it came from, but it's eating me alive and I can't shake it away.
It could be day or night, rain or shine; I could be happy or sad.
All of a sudden - out of nowhere - like a fireball or a blazing comet, a fiery pleasureful pain shoots itself into the center of my back and shocks my body. And for that moment, time is suspended and I feel this out-of-body experience where I'm rocketed into outer space in a beautiful dress with no shoes on, my arms and legs and hair flailing about like I'm drowning in a sea of Love. I'm surrounded by stars so big and bright and beautiful, they sparkle more radiantly than a cluster of the finest diamonds.
All of this happens for about three seconds. You know when people say before you die your life flashes before your eyes? It's the same thing, but the difference is the feeling of the BEGINNING of life and not the end. The three seconds are filled with overwhelming love, speckled with hope and the tingle you get in your toes when you jump off a high place.
Sometimes it brings tears in my eyes, but not too often.
I wish you could feel it. For those three seconds, I get to forget my worries and troubles, and feel so insanely good that I just want to put my hands in the air and inhale all the love there is in the world.
Tonight, stand outside; in a parking lot, on a rooftop, anywhere open and airy. Stretch your arms towards the sky and take a deep breath with a smile. Look at the stars.
Multiply that sensation by a million to the power of eternity.
You'll feel it, too.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
My First Love
I was a little older than most girls who'd experienced their first love when my turn came, but it was worth the wait.
It was everything a first love should be.
I don't even remember how it happened. You know how some people say "Don't think about it and it'll come on its own"? This was exactly it. We just fused together after a while of being friends, and it worked itself out. It worked itself out quite perfectly, I must say.
He was (and still is) one of those people that is impossible to ignore and impossible to forget; an electric personality, a million-dollar smile, and eyes so bright they lit up the place. But the thing that stole my heart (besides the beautiful way he loved) was his mind.
He had the mind of a genius. He had a way of piecing words together, knowing when to call, knowing what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. When we were together, nothing else mattered more than the worldly things he had to say and the joy he had to give.
He had the heart of a child. In the day and age we were in, there was so much stress and responsibility, and so many expectations. With him, I was allowed to put all of that aside and be a baby because he let me, and because he needed it, too. We'd laugh for hours on the phone, and when we were out together, we'd do whatever made us happy.
There was one phone conversation I'd never forget; I still hear it in my head sometimes. We were laughing about the Screwy Squirrel and he kept making these funny cartoon noises. The conversation went from hilarious to more serious, and though I can't recall what it was exactly that we were discussing, I do remember that he broke out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter in the middle of our discussion. I had to laugh with him, because his laugh was so damn contagious. I stopped for a second and asked him why he was laughing. He replied, "It's because I'm so happy."
I always remember the lazy summer afternoons and the beautiful nights we spent together laughing, talking, watching movies, eating, and listening to music.
The music he shared with me was probably one of the best parts of our relationship. It was like a movie soundtrack. Every song was introduced and played in perfect timing, at the right moments. And unlike background music, it came forward and tied the 3 or 4 minutes together and making them the most euphoric and divine times anyone could ever experience, or want to experience. Even when he first told me he loved me, he put it in a song. Not only did he put it in a song, but he had written the song and performed it for me, and gave me a single red rose that I still keep pressed in my journal. I had what girls back then (and even today) dream of having.
Our first kiss was expected and unexpected, strange and familiar, happy and hungry all at once. I don't even know how to describe how I felt that day. I literally fell asleep on a cloud that night, despite the hot weather and the annoyances of having a curfew, and all the other little things that came with being an 18-year old. Everything washed itself far far away when I was with him, and knowing I was with him put me on top of the world. I was untouchable, unstoppable, and undeniably the happiest girl in the world.
Even now, years after things fell apart, I still smile when I think of him, and I'll never forget my summer in 2005. All of the songs were pieced together on an iPod playlist, singing a story of a beautiful friendship that blossomed into a perfect first love. And though it was brief, the days felt like years of endless joy and heightened spirits. The memories still give me a temporary high. :)
This post is dedicated to K, who turned a year older a few days ago. Happy birthday, sweetheart, and thank you for the unforgettable days, weeks, and months. :* You're the best :)
It was everything a first love should be.
I don't even remember how it happened. You know how some people say "Don't think about it and it'll come on its own"? This was exactly it. We just fused together after a while of being friends, and it worked itself out. It worked itself out quite perfectly, I must say.
He was (and still is) one of those people that is impossible to ignore and impossible to forget; an electric personality, a million-dollar smile, and eyes so bright they lit up the place. But the thing that stole my heart (besides the beautiful way he loved) was his mind.
He had the mind of a genius. He had a way of piecing words together, knowing when to call, knowing what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. When we were together, nothing else mattered more than the worldly things he had to say and the joy he had to give.
He had the heart of a child. In the day and age we were in, there was so much stress and responsibility, and so many expectations. With him, I was allowed to put all of that aside and be a baby because he let me, and because he needed it, too. We'd laugh for hours on the phone, and when we were out together, we'd do whatever made us happy.
There was one phone conversation I'd never forget; I still hear it in my head sometimes. We were laughing about the Screwy Squirrel and he kept making these funny cartoon noises. The conversation went from hilarious to more serious, and though I can't recall what it was exactly that we were discussing, I do remember that he broke out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter in the middle of our discussion. I had to laugh with him, because his laugh was so damn contagious. I stopped for a second and asked him why he was laughing. He replied, "It's because I'm so happy."
I always remember the lazy summer afternoons and the beautiful nights we spent together laughing, talking, watching movies, eating, and listening to music.
The music he shared with me was probably one of the best parts of our relationship. It was like a movie soundtrack. Every song was introduced and played in perfect timing, at the right moments. And unlike background music, it came forward and tied the 3 or 4 minutes together and making them the most euphoric and divine times anyone could ever experience, or want to experience. Even when he first told me he loved me, he put it in a song. Not only did he put it in a song, but he had written the song and performed it for me, and gave me a single red rose that I still keep pressed in my journal. I had what girls back then (and even today) dream of having.
Our first kiss was expected and unexpected, strange and familiar, happy and hungry all at once. I don't even know how to describe how I felt that day. I literally fell asleep on a cloud that night, despite the hot weather and the annoyances of having a curfew, and all the other little things that came with being an 18-year old. Everything washed itself far far away when I was with him, and knowing I was with him put me on top of the world. I was untouchable, unstoppable, and undeniably the happiest girl in the world.
Even now, years after things fell apart, I still smile when I think of him, and I'll never forget my summer in 2005. All of the songs were pieced together on an iPod playlist, singing a story of a beautiful friendship that blossomed into a perfect first love. And though it was brief, the days felt like years of endless joy and heightened spirits. The memories still give me a temporary high. :)
This post is dedicated to K, who turned a year older a few days ago. Happy birthday, sweetheart, and thank you for the unforgettable days, weeks, and months. :* You're the best :)
1992
Only some would claim that 1992 was of no significance to them. To me, it was everything. I was only 5 years old then, but I felt the independence of an 18 year old who'd just gotten their license, and the overwhelming joy of a 27 year old who'd finally found the love of her life.
Everyday was love. Everything was perfect.
The simplicity and comfort of having very few friends, or just one best friend, was enough for me. Who cared about boys? Or having a social circle so big you'd get lost in it? Not me. The few friendships I'd formed when I was in the first and second grade were the only bonds I needed to get me through the days.
Sharing wasn't caring. Sharing was something, and caring was another. We were so selfless and young and happy, my friends and I. I remember sitting on the floor during my lunch break everyday at school with four other girls. We'd dump all of our lunches in the center of our little barricade of bodies and eat whatever was in the middle without a single complaint or feeling of resentment towards whoever ate the last piece of chips. Our gossip revolved around which Disney princess was our favorite and why, and which books we wanted to read over the weekend.
So innocent and happy.
Closets consisted of a couple of pairs of jeans, all acid-washed with an elastic waistband (we were too young for buttons), printed t-shirts, and a dress for Eid. There never came a day where I'd look into my closet and think about what to wear - I'd just pull out a bright shirt and a pair of jeans, pull on my favorite sneakers and go. Do you remember the sneakers that lit up whenever you took a step? Or the sneakers that "made you run faster"? I felt on top of the world everytime I put my shoes on, dancing around to Michael Jackson tunes and pretending I was in the Billie Jean video.
Music was another thing. Music was on a whole different level, and I'm sure many of you would agree.
By the year 1992, so many of the greatest artists and songs had set their names in stone and came out with, undeniably, the best music anyone has ever heard. Prince, Michael Jackson, Janet Jackson, and Mariah Carey hold an extremely special place in my heart. Sometimes we were too young to fully understand the depth of their lyrics, but they sounded good and we could sing along, or at the very least, dance to it.
Even now when I listen to Mariah Carey's "Emotions", a wave crashes over me and sucks me into this deep trance and takes me back to 1992. Sunny mornings, wild hair, big smiles, going swimming at Le Meridien with my family and cousins; it was and still is perfection to me.
Even old-school Hip-Hop was everything it should be today. The lyrics were so simple, the beats were so ridiculously fresh, and the song didn't have to be peppered with bad words and negativity for it to work.
The music videos on MTV were relevant to the song, and VERY rarely did you see scantily-clad women exploiting themselves.
Music was everything to me during those years. Everything. You couldn't even compare an iPod filled with songs from the late 80's and early 90's to an iPod filled with today's music. You seriously can't.
There are some days I remember so vividly - laughing so hard in the back of the car with my cousins because we were so outrageously happy. Laughing so hard, in fact, that we warned our aunts that if they didn't slow down on the speed bumps, we might pee ourselves.
When was the last time you laughed so hard for no reason?
I can't remember either.
If I had one wish, it would be to bring 1992 back, forever. Every year should be 1992. There's so much more that I wish I could put into words, but sometimes words don't do the feeling justice.
Tell me some of your thoughts and memories :) I'd love to read what you all have to say!
Everyday was love. Everything was perfect.
The simplicity and comfort of having very few friends, or just one best friend, was enough for me. Who cared about boys? Or having a social circle so big you'd get lost in it? Not me. The few friendships I'd formed when I was in the first and second grade were the only bonds I needed to get me through the days.
Sharing wasn't caring. Sharing was something, and caring was another. We were so selfless and young and happy, my friends and I. I remember sitting on the floor during my lunch break everyday at school with four other girls. We'd dump all of our lunches in the center of our little barricade of bodies and eat whatever was in the middle without a single complaint or feeling of resentment towards whoever ate the last piece of chips. Our gossip revolved around which Disney princess was our favorite and why, and which books we wanted to read over the weekend.
So innocent and happy.
Closets consisted of a couple of pairs of jeans, all acid-washed with an elastic waistband (we were too young for buttons), printed t-shirts, and a dress for Eid. There never came a day where I'd look into my closet and think about what to wear - I'd just pull out a bright shirt and a pair of jeans, pull on my favorite sneakers and go. Do you remember the sneakers that lit up whenever you took a step? Or the sneakers that "made you run faster"? I felt on top of the world everytime I put my shoes on, dancing around to Michael Jackson tunes and pretending I was in the Billie Jean video.
Music was another thing. Music was on a whole different level, and I'm sure many of you would agree.
By the year 1992, so many of the greatest artists and songs had set their names in stone and came out with, undeniably, the best music anyone has ever heard. Prince, Michael Jackson, Janet Jackson, and Mariah Carey hold an extremely special place in my heart. Sometimes we were too young to fully understand the depth of their lyrics, but they sounded good and we could sing along, or at the very least, dance to it.
Even now when I listen to Mariah Carey's "Emotions", a wave crashes over me and sucks me into this deep trance and takes me back to 1992. Sunny mornings, wild hair, big smiles, going swimming at Le Meridien with my family and cousins; it was and still is perfection to me.
Even old-school Hip-Hop was everything it should be today. The lyrics were so simple, the beats were so ridiculously fresh, and the song didn't have to be peppered with bad words and negativity for it to work.
The music videos on MTV were relevant to the song, and VERY rarely did you see scantily-clad women exploiting themselves.
Music was everything to me during those years. Everything. You couldn't even compare an iPod filled with songs from the late 80's and early 90's to an iPod filled with today's music. You seriously can't.
There are some days I remember so vividly - laughing so hard in the back of the car with my cousins because we were so outrageously happy. Laughing so hard, in fact, that we warned our aunts that if they didn't slow down on the speed bumps, we might pee ourselves.
When was the last time you laughed so hard for no reason?
I can't remember either.
If I had one wish, it would be to bring 1992 back, forever. Every year should be 1992. There's so much more that I wish I could put into words, but sometimes words don't do the feeling justice.
Tell me some of your thoughts and memories :) I'd love to read what you all have to say!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Tagged!
I've been tagged by the lovely Glitter!
So this tag is called Il-Taj Il-Sultani.. I would upload the picture thingy that's supposed to go with it, but I'm clueless when it comes to stuff like this.
Anyways, so the tag says that I have to tell my beautiful followers 6 secrets of mine. Whoever knows who I am or doesn't, I don't care. I really have nothing to hide so whatevs! Here goes!
1. More often than not, I think about running away. Not just leaving my house, but leaving Kuwait. Running off to a big beautiful city that's so enriched with culture and life and REAL people. The thought of it gives me goosebumps, and there are days when I'd give up my family for a taste of another life.
2. I wish I never dated. Not because of the whole reputation thing (I could care less), but because of all the days, months, and years spent worrying about the significant other and crying and all the other sad bits that come with a relationship. A word of advice, spend every moment you can with a smile on your face.
3. The thought of marriage, which was once so beautiful and sacred to me, repulses me now. I secretly feel sorry for all my friends who are married, because 90% of them are miserable. I just pretend to be interested in committment when I'm around them.
4. As much as I regret ever knowing Mubarak and hating him for what he did to me, a little piece of me misses him so much. It always will.
5. I can never forgive my dad for leaving. I don't care how happy he is in his new life; I think what he did was extremely selfish.
6. I stole a piece of gum from the baqala when I was a kid once, and when my mom asked me if I had paid for it, I nodded. I still think about it till this day, and I still feel like crap.
There. I said it. LOL.
I tag whoever wants to do this thing. Link me back to your blog in the comments section if you did this tag! I'd love to pick your brains :)
So this tag is called Il-Taj Il-Sultani.. I would upload the picture thingy that's supposed to go with it, but I'm clueless when it comes to stuff like this.
Anyways, so the tag says that I have to tell my beautiful followers 6 secrets of mine. Whoever knows who I am or doesn't, I don't care. I really have nothing to hide so whatevs! Here goes!
1. More often than not, I think about running away. Not just leaving my house, but leaving Kuwait. Running off to a big beautiful city that's so enriched with culture and life and REAL people. The thought of it gives me goosebumps, and there are days when I'd give up my family for a taste of another life.
2. I wish I never dated. Not because of the whole reputation thing (I could care less), but because of all the days, months, and years spent worrying about the significant other and crying and all the other sad bits that come with a relationship. A word of advice, spend every moment you can with a smile on your face.
3. The thought of marriage, which was once so beautiful and sacred to me, repulses me now. I secretly feel sorry for all my friends who are married, because 90% of them are miserable. I just pretend to be interested in committment when I'm around them.
4. As much as I regret ever knowing Mubarak and hating him for what he did to me, a little piece of me misses him so much. It always will.
5. I can never forgive my dad for leaving. I don't care how happy he is in his new life; I think what he did was extremely selfish.
6. I stole a piece of gum from the baqala when I was a kid once, and when my mom asked me if I had paid for it, I nodded. I still think about it till this day, and I still feel like crap.
There. I said it. LOL.
I tag whoever wants to do this thing. Link me back to your blog in the comments section if you did this tag! I'd love to pick your brains :)
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