The list of things I own.

 When you sit down at your favourtie table in your favourite coffe shop, in that special bench in your favourite walkway which you feel is your own property. That is how it is for people like me who are drowned in their own thoughts, they have these little comfy places that they think they own because other people didn't notice the beauty in them. You introduce special people in your life to these places and they thank you for letting them see the charm of a little goddam bench to which you are certain they will come back to, and so on. This is how it is for people like me, we glimpse beauty in the smallest details. In the corners of some random building, in the warm sun rays cracking its way through the branches of a tree, in the white rose resting between her golden hairs. We own the moon, the night, the silence, the city lights, the cold breeze, the sunrise, the sunset, the waters splashing as they hit the rock you are sitting on, the melancholy of a dead tree. We can feel, and feeling is the catalyst to our lives, love is the inspiration to our writings and motivation is our first aim. We aren't antisocial but we prefer silence to many things in this life. We can be writers, doctors, males, females, black, white, or even blind. We are present, we are amongst you.

Small moments like these.

 For a hopefully great experience, I recommend listening to this track while reading: Hammock- Mono No Aware. Thank you.

 What is the closest that we ever got to describing feelings? Can they really be put into words? Like emptiness for example, does it happen that you relate to that feeling by reading a novel, or by listening to a violinist passionately brushing those strings with his stick like a man passing his fingers through his lover's hair? Those moments when emotions are so pure, so real you can actually touch them? Those emotions that make up a stunning work of art, like a mosaic, are the ones we tend to remember and base our memory of people and places on. Do you ever go to a place that reminds you of a certain feeling you don't want to let go of? Like the joyful sadness of passing by that place that reminds you of one of these moments you shared with a special person? Have you ever seen pure joy in someone's sparkling eyes, or in the wrinkles drawn on their face by their enchanting genuine smile and this same feeling starts running down your spine? Sad it is how we never get to see such feelings translated into enlightening facial expressions on our own faces, and the only things we see in mirrors are blank faces and fake smiles. But happy it is indeed that I decided to write down those moments onto paper so I can always get back to them, because surely.. life is only made out of small moments like these.

On a foggy night.

 Walking through my thoughts, they slip from the cage in my mind through my mouth dancing around in the form of dense clouds hugging that haunting dead tree I used to sit underneath, it's haunting how a couple of months are enough to turn what was the most pleasing sight I have ever set my eyes on into something so intimidating, so sad that I don't recognise it anymore. It's the natural cycle of change in life we tend to give the blind eye, it's how the best of friends and lovers can turn into total strangers before you can even recognise it. Some drops of rain touch my skin as I kneel down to capture a fallen paper with my shaking hands, but I can hardly see from all that fog. In some way I get this feeling that the sky is on verge of some kind of emotional breakdown. All those drops are just a warning, it's too mind provoking how fog can be so beautiful and so lonely at the same time. Like that girl in her fur jacket, with those pure blue half-closed eyes, looking at the bottom left corner of her head, which is tilted downwards reflecting a kind of "I have all the beauty in the world but I don't know it, and my life sucks because my boyfriend is treating me like I am an old piece of neglected furniture" personality, this thing in a girl that can be the most precious she can posses. I stand up, I take a look at all those uncountable orange sodium side lamps marking the end of the walkway, the rain starts to accelerate, I smile because it came in the best time it could. I turn around and leave, this is how I love spending my time alone.

Debrecen

 Debrecen, pronounced Debretsen.. is the name of the city, a bit confusing but it sounds quite satisfactory from a Hungarian tongue. Five months from now I would have raised my skeptical eyebrow if someone told me I'd end up here someday. I traveled.. carrying fifty kilograms of basic life needs and tons of dreams, responsibilities and fears. Reminds me of the cigarette I've just thrown, carrying milligrams of nicotin and tons of inspiration. It's quite a compact city that I find romantic of some sort. The yellowish foggy autumn is spreading its atmosphere at the horizon. Countless fallen leaves covering the streets, they'd probably hit you when a car passes by.. like a neater version of rain water splashing your jeans in Egypt. Cold nights here are my thing, I'd just take a nice long walk debating life matters with my own self.. getting lost in streets I have a feeling that I own. People here are surprisingly nice, they'd always smile and offer help despite the great language barrier.. you'd be surrounded by three or four people in a supermarket hall trying to understand what you're trying hard to put across. The moment I was left alone at the airport was a big sudden rush of thoughts, realising the fact of complete independence.. a new stage of life my family believes I've put myself into so early. From cooking my own food and cleaning the bathroom floor to strong concentration on why I came here, not to spill any handful of motivation I've came here with.. it's all great responsibility added to the nostalgic feeling you get whenever you just see a person who has the looks of people back home. I'm missing Egypt so soon, but I wish I can turn this place into a new alternative home. I hope.