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Tuesday, April 26, 2016


I don't drink coffee. Or tea. As a general rule, I don't ingest caffeine. Although I don't find hot beverages palatable, that's not the main reason.

The main reason is that I simply don't want to drink coffee or tea. My body reacts strongly to caffeine since I'm not used to it--I even experience some nausea and tremors! There is a strange mental hyperactivity brought about to me by this chemical, but I don't always enjoy it. Some might say that I should drink coffee until I get used to it, but then again, I don't want to.

Even though coffee (literally) nauseates me, it's not coffee per se that annoys me. I don't hate it as a drink, but rather as a phenomenon.

Lines like "you can't skip coffee" or "I am not fully awake until I've had my coffee" or any others usually posted online by coffee addicts get on my nerves. Go ahead, have all the coffee you want. There's no need to tell everyone in the whole world.

I know,.. everyone makes their own choices. I am not trying to change anyone's lifestyle, but I'd much appreciate it if people would accept mine as mine. I live whichever way I want. If you offer me coffee and I refuse, please understand that refusal means I don't want any.

The fact that I don't drink it, doesn't mean I denounce anyone who does. Once a friend of mine suggested that we go have a cup of coffee. I said that I don't drink that stuff. He looked at me funny and said "it's coffee we're drinking, not beer."

Oh, and if you're wondering how I don't feel sleepy all day without caffeine, here's the simple explanation: I sleep well!

Monday, April 25, 2016

I Sometimes Watch Anime

For some reason, this is one of my favorite scenes in this show. I really can't explain it, but it appeals to my boyish side.

The Argument Against Photography

I get asked a lot why I don't like getting my photos taken. Or why I never post my pictures online. The short answer is that photographs (especially ones posted on social media) are "a manifestation of false emotion". (I know that I shouldn't quote myself.) It's ridiculous that you should put on a face to get your photo taken the same way you put on an article of clothing. "Say cheese" should be replaced with "act happy for a fraction of a second".

Do I consider myself non-photogenic? I don't know; I've never tried it. This has nothing to do with it. OK, maybe it does. My lowly self-image has a lot to do with my... well, image, there's no denying that. But don't let's talk about that.

As I was growing up, there weren't any digital cameras around. People took photos with old things with film scrolls inside that had to be dropped off at the shop to be developed. Maybe that's why many were extra careful with what/whom they capture. As a social outcast, people usually didn't want me or any members of my family in their photos. I've only recently remembered that.

Around this time last year, as we were on the verge of graduating, my classmates had the intention of taking a group photo with a certain doctor of ours after her last lecture ever. As everyone gathered and were preparing for the picture, I noticed that one of my classmates was a bit far from everyone else. She started in the direction of the "photographees", but suddenly stopped in her tracks. I don't know whether she decided not to get involved in the photo, or if she thought it too late to go, but I saw the situation rather differently.

In that particular instance, it was almost impossible for anyone to notice that absence of the said lady from the large horde of posing people. In my childhood, most group photos were of a really small number of people. I don't think I was ever invited to be part of family photos. As a kid largely affected by society and its folly, I might have desired--at least sometimes--to be involved in that social activity. It doesn't matter, but it was made clear to me back then that you had to have more "value" to get into the circle of people special enough to appear in color on glossy paper. I'm not making much sense... In short: I rebel against the meaningless tradition of photography because I don't believe in its social value.

Another issue rises here--a much more controversial one. Photos on social media. Just why? I know that some people take photos to have something to remind them of the good times. But what purpose does posting photos online serve? I have never received any convincing answer to this question.

A profile picture is a good indicator to your identity. It tells people to whom you send friend requests, for instance, that you are you. It's not really a necessary proof, but it's not entirely useless. People are taking it too far, however: taking photos of oneself, one's family, one's possessions, and even one's food (this one particularly gets on my nerves). It's absolutely repulsive!

I don't want to make this any longer. My simple message here is this: instead of taking photographs to remind you of the moment, try living it real-time!

PS: Hypocritically enough, I've recently changed my Facebook profile picture (you can see it in the upper right corner). Silly, I know.

Saturday, April 16, 2016


I've weighed the same since I was fourteen years old, twelve years now, and I'm grateful for that, but I was overweight when I was a kid. I even came up with a formula:

Weight at given age (n) =  n X 5

Sounds like fun, huh? Not really. Being able to predict your weight and actually controlling it are two different things. Now, I know that this doesn't sound like a lot, that I wasn't exactly obese, but it caused me a lot of trouble.

I've never had difficulty moving around. It was relatively easy to do sports--I just didn't like it. But it was at times challenging to find clothes for me. You know, because of the discrepancy between girth and height. Now that I think about it, I didn't actually mind the extra kilos. But then again I was a kid, and I probably didn't know what's best for me. However, I never liked how people looked at me.

I remember being made fun of a lot. I was called many things that mean "fatso". I guess this has a lot to do with my being afraid of gaining a lot of weight right now.

In my fourteenth summer--about the time of my growth spurt--we purchased a car. I spent a lot of time just sitting in it in the street, and less time eating at home. Perhaps I also started to care about my looks at that time. So I lost a lot of weight without any actual effort. I am very attractive now. (Sorry!)

Today, I suspect that I have an eating disorder. I am the only one who thinks I'm fat (even though I kind of exercise), and I have occasional binges. My mom says I don't eat a lot, and that I'm very thin. I don't know.

Blindness to Kindness

Am I the only one that noticed this? That being 'nice' is actually not a very savory attribute nowadays. It is rather mistaken for weakness. They way I see it, it takes a lot of strength to not only resist the urge to punch people in the throat, but also to treat them respectfully.

I started to notice a while ago. I recognized a pattern among people: when I say the words "I don't know" people immediately label me as stupid. Even if--nay, especially if--they were 'stupider' than me. You have to be assertive to command respect. And 'assertive' simply means 'arrogant' in my community. Some people just love anyone that treats them like rodents. Lemme say this: I know for a fact that I'm smarter than most, and I thank God for that, but that doesn't mean I'm better than anyone. We all have brains, don't we? And I don't walk around rubbing it in people's faces. I made that choice, and I'm strong enough to stick to it.

Of course, this kind of people I can easily avoid. I can block them out of my life. My problem is how the people close to me take my kindness for servility. When I apologize to someone, they take my apology as an invitation to tread on me. Again, being able to acknowledge one's mistakes and try to make up for them is not a sign of weakness. It is one of the most difficult tasks a human being, especially a Jordanian human being, can attempt. Go ahead, remember some of the arguments you have had with those you hold dear. Each single one of those started--and was maintained, of course--because someone would not admit to being wrong. Even if it cost you nothing to admit it, you probably won't. Human nature, I guess.

My point is, take it easy. Breathe. Think!
If someone is nice to you, it means they probably care for you. It's absolutely sickening how in some communities, pieces of trash get most of the respect that community has to offer.

Vacation, please!

Strange, isn't it? I am not the outgoing kind, but something tells me I need to go away. Like, now!

I know that I might sound evil here, but I need a vacation from my family. I love my family, and I like to be of help to them, but I just get sick sometimes. Someone always wants something. And if they don't, someone else does, of course. Again, I don't mind doing things for my family, it's just that I don't like be treated like a robot that is only there at my siblings' service.

Sometimes I feel that a mother duck has more private time than I do. Most of the time, I simply can't just sit at my desk and read, or just spend some time alone. The annoying thing is that neither my sister nor my brother will sacrifice any of their own time for anyone else. Especially if they don't feel like talking to anyone or doing anything for someone. I guess I am--as Americans put it--being taken for granted.

I am just sick of playing father to my siblings. One time they need something from me, the other I am asking stuff that's none of my business.

I'm really in a tight spot here.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Review: Ready Player One

Ready Player One Ready Player One by Ernest Cline
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I started this book in late February. I don't know whether it's the book itself or if I'm too depressed to read anything. So don't take this review too seriously.

Well, this novel has it all: action, suspense, comedy, romance, sci-fi. This is a good thing, really, but it doesn't always work. (I don't know what I mean, either.) The story line is nice, but still seems like an amalgam of all the stories you can think of, especially those of the young-adult genre.

As for the authoring skills of this dude, he's really good. His style is enjoyable, albeit superfluous at times. I'm not a big fan of MMOs and RPGs myself, but I didn't feel absolutely ignorant immersed in the details of this story.

View all my reviews

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

La Primavera

Spring is supposed to be a joyous season. The weather is nice, flowers begin to blossom, and everyone seems to be having fun. Still, late spring is the time when suicides are most common. There is some depressing quality about it, after all.

I was beginning to think I can control my memories and thoughts. I was quite successful at it, too. To my surprise, I could stop myself from thinking about certain things and people. But all it takes is just one tiny stimulus to stir my emotions. You can't control those, it seems.

These days, I go to work one day, and then get two days off. So most of my time I spend at home. I like that; I really do. But it seems staying home alone for too long is bad for me. I am back to sobbing, but for different reasons from those I had years ago, when I used to stay at home for much longer than I do now. Memories from this time last year are getting a grip over me that I can't escape. How quickly time passes by, and how difficult it is for me to cope!
I'm much weaker than I think I am and pretend to be...