are you there yet?

I am diabetic, and I have decided to snickers myself to death. I will die modest, I chose snickers bars because, like muscle cars, they're mildly priced and got alotta character. 

emirati psycho*

my name is Raisa M, I live in ********, and i'm 28 years old. i believe in taking good care of myself, a balanced diet, excessive exercise, and covering every inch of my skin in brand names. i would probably change my abaya a thousand times, if i though it made my nose looks bigger, or my head any broader, i can do that while applying my eyeliner and mascara. i start by wiping my face with an orange extract facial cleanser, then wait a minute before applying a sunblock cream (30 SPF), and then add another layer of a tinted sunblock cream, and finish off with a bronzing face powder - with pure gold.

there's an idea of Raisa Al Mansoori, an illusion, some kind of an abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something imaginary. and despite the amount of efforts I put just hide my cold gaze, it still slips once in awhile. you'll shake my hand, you'll feel the flesh gripping yours, and maybe think that our lifestyles are probably comparable ...i simply am not there.

*based on a partially true story. 

adult short stories.

she was quiet.

he had a mustache.

.

.

.

they shared a cab.
and then parted for good. 

(a lonely) space ghost.

he completed his mission
he kept your tee shirt
he owned a planet
he had a big window

he looked over you,

he played your favorite song

he messed up your dreams

he killed your career

he kidnaped your boyfriend

he called you everyday

he added sugar to your coffee

he did your dirty dishes

he colored your wishes

he carrieed you to bed

he will always be there,

ALWAYS.

he stalk(s) you

he stalk(s) you

he stalk(s) you.

i'm Jack's to-do list:

1. write a book.
2. have a child.
3. plant a tree.

diaries of a place.

ever since I moved to the boathouse, time, mr einstein ...has became even more relative. an old friend of mine owns the boathouse. I didn't rent. wasn't invited. just crashed in and stayed there. 

I don't really think he'd mind, I am the dream guest of anyone, cleaned...paid, scruffed, watered his cactus. everything about that boathouse was alive, kept alive.

how long has it been? I honestly have no idea. but life is good, nights are bearable these days. I could say that i have stopped looking forward to mornings. well ...not entirely. I will always treasure my morning coffee with miss Dolly. talking to her is like biting an apple, light ...fresh, just so fresh.

I have developed an occasional motion sickness, mostly when I'm in a public transportation veh...no, it's just taxies. I always attract those smelly, ...chatty, inconsiderate drivers. my liver, heart, lungs and most of my vital organs are squashed up my throat ...with every one of the sudden stops, ah, just every time. 

plenty, is happening. hardest thing about life is living, and everyone's a star. almost every thing I hear, think about or say is a replica of some film, a good movie that I don't seem to remember its title. I also realized I'm quieter than I have ever been, my whole life.

I go back home to an open, dimly lit bedroom, a small space ...not really a kitchenette ...or a living room. yes, there's a bathroom, so I can't really complain. it's not a boathouse per se ...but it fits the description.

I kinda miss having neighbors. I have what you might call "episodic neighbors" they appear with your calendar vacations. or with the change of weather ...or just appear for no reason. would be nice to have someone around here, a regular resident. but what to do.

I'm looking for an apartment these days. a reasonably good place here would probably cost a 2,000 USD. I can do it, but ...I'll wait for the old friend to come back, so much to say. and as Long as the unstable state of the boathouse sync beautifully with my core I think ima hang around for a bit longer.



september 9th, 2011.

_____conservatively erect.

Two months ago, I married the prayer crier, or whatever that is called (Sorry honey) We first met at Virgin Megastore, it was bad taste at first purchase.

I always go there just to look around, and end up buying something(s) I bought two Pink Martini albums, Sympatique and Splendor in the Grass.

He did too.

He teaches Islamics at the boys elementary school. Islamics? I always walk on him humming something. It's a familiar tone, but he won't say what it was.

We recently moved to the mosque house. The main gate is turquoise, the whole place is radiating white. It's cute for a house. Two cute bedrooms. Two cute bathrooms. A cute living room. And a distastefully cute kitchen. Just cute.

I hated the purity of the place. So I hanged a huge Marilyn Monroe poster on the wall. It gave me a sense of sanity. The poster turned out later to be Madonna's, I didn't care.

We lived on Kiri's cheese sandwiches and fruits. There still a whole bunch of dairy products we haven't tried yet.

I always feel uncomfortable walking in the backyard. Feels like I'm wandering a public property, not my own house.

Someone 'll peek,

someone 'll just walk through the main door.

People seem to think that since he's a man of god he has an answer to everything. He is an idiot, we're idiots, two happy idiots.

Celebrating earth hour, our house shut down the power. We had to switch everything off, my phone included.

It's amazing how hard it's to do nothing.

2:40 pm

5:31 pm

9:13 pm

It was night.

I was swinging in the swing, while he desperately tried to lit some candles, humming that tone.

Just beautiful.

Next morning, we woke up in the middle of nowhere.

There it was, our mosque house, the mosque, and nothing else. No clinic, no park, no schools, no anything.

Everything and everyone was gone.

We didn't even notice we had no fingers, just spatula-like hands. Our bodies were layers of fabric, sewed carefully. We both came in pink.

I squeezed my chest and there was nothing, I had no spine, no lungs, no organs. Our faces were oval shaped with two buttoned eyes. We no longer were humans.

But I'll admit it, my hair looked better.

It appears, we had a dream. We were humans, once.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was a beautiful dream.

_fourty two.

she counted her shoes.

(36 pairs)

she sat, counted seven fingers

(those were her friends)

one under 22, three in their mid twenties and two over 30

(years old)

she wore grey

tasted pink

and smelled blue

36+7-1=42

they tell you great things about being good,

well, surprise me.

yes, she was (still) terrible at math.

February, 2011

she'llwakeupandloveyounomore.

"clack clack clack"

she wondered,..

should've been

(knock knock knock)

.

.

she opens the door

looks...

_____d

________o

__________w

_____________n

.........was her neighbor

pondered,.......................................

mrs. mustache, she calls her

.

.

she looked

______________d

___________o

________w

_____n

again...

mrs. mustache was on the floor

bleeding forehead

.......................head

....................hands

wearing sandals

on her hands

.

.

OH

so that's why it was a

clack clack clack.

diaries of a chair.

august 12, 2008

(shared spaces)

you were sitting on a bench, in a long narrow bus stop station. i thought you were on the edge, as if you were waiting for a whisle to jump and run. I had just had a shower, and my hair was utterly ..never mind, that day, i knew a clip wouldn't hold it, so i didn't bother. you were holding a smile which annoyed me in a way you couldn't imagine. i'm not sure you remember me, we didn't talk at the time. your friend, the weird one .. who kept telling us how she can predict the future, no wait .. she said she can "see" the future, she introduced us. we were supposed to go somewhere that evening, but you parted for god knows why. you had this paper bag beside you the whole time, scenarios started popping in my head, i didn't ask ... giving the fact you were texting someone the whole time. i started thinking about Queen Elizabith, your queer looking printed tee shirt got me thinking about her,

if we did have the time, we could've shared a lame joke, i'm really terrible at telling jokes, but that's the funny thing about it. you would've also heard my ringing tone, i was expecting a call just after you left, it was one of the most beautiful songs ever performed. weird thing, we're waiting at the bus stop and the silence was deafening, apart from your friend, our weird friend. souless place, not a sound. well, the ad board on the building was addictive, a bit entertaining. remember it? everytime the color shifts our heads turn, i don't remember what was it about...naah...

my, ..our weird friend told me the next day, you had been into an accident, she didn't mention you as often as she's used to. and i stopped asking qestions, it was as if you were dead. sometimes i wish i had told you to get your ass of the chair, since you didn't care and i hated waiting. something might have changed. maybe.

if you were a poster, what would the tagline say?

the year of noodles

I'm 22. I not so long ago, ended a four year old relationship. I'll turn 23 soon. I lost everything, I have no friends ...none, really. I talk a lot. I'm annoying, why? Why am I annoying? Lol, 'cause I talk a lot. Do you know what you can do with alotta dough and sugar? Baking! I baked a lot ... I baked till I the sun came up ... around 5:40 am. How old are you? Do you live in a big house ...or? Yeh? ...No no no, I'm not selling. I just bake for myself. A lot?? I dunno, just got sick of eating the same things everyday, so I'm just trying new things. I work at this bakery slash coffee place, ..you should come check it out. I also cook too you know. ...Yesterday I baked alotta of doughnuts and muffins. My place smells good.

How do people get over things ...How ...umm, urghhh. So what's for dinner?

pants and strawberry jam.

Home alone,

I walked

.

.

.

.

I walked some more

Another 10 meters

I'm finally in

the kitchen

I gulped some water

my slipper on strawberry jam

Sticky

Sticky

Sticky steps

On my stomach

I laid on the sofa

I thought someone 'll beak my neck

I bent my knees, up

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Strawberry jam dripped

.

Oh

there's nobody home

none 'll break me

.

Strawberry jam

dripped

on my ass

.

.

.

be damned

I'm out of clean laundry.

*liarees

sometimes i wish talking was a bundle of air, a swing, and a kiss
for those who hate breathing, swinging, and kissing
stop talking.

(مرة أخرى)

أوه حبيبي بيبي, أوه حبيبي بيبي

أوه حبيبي بيبي, كيف لي أن أعرف

أن هناك خطب ما

أوه حبيبي بيبي, ما كان يجب أن أتركك

و أنت الآن بعيد عن ناظري

أرني كيف تريدنا أن نكون

أخبرني بيبي أريد أن أعرف لأن

- الكورس -

(وحدتي تقتلني)

و أناأوّد الاعتراف بأنني لا أزال أؤمن

( لا أزال )

أجّن, عندما لا أكون معك

أريد تلميحاً, اصفعني بيبي مرة أخرى

أوه حبيبي بيبي, أنت وراء كل نفسٍ آخذه

لقد أعميتني

أوه بيبي الجميل, لم يُبتكر شي لن أفعله

لم يكن هذا ما خططت له

أرني كيف تريدنا أن نكون

أخبرني بيبي أريد أن أعرف لأن

- الكورس -

أوه حبيبي بيبي, كيف لي أن أعرف

أوه يا بيبي الجميل, ما كان يجب أن أتركك

يجب أن أعترف بأن وحدتي

تقتلني الآن

ألا تعرف بأنني لا أزال أؤمن

بأنك ستكون هناو ستعطيني تلميحاً ما, اصفعني بيبي مرة أخرى

- الكورس -

يجب أن أعترف

( بأن وحدتي )

وحدتي( تقتلني )تقتلني الآن

(يجب أن أعترف)

ألا تعلم

( بأنني لا أزال أؤمن )

بأنني لا أزال أؤمن

بأنك ستكون هنا

( سأجن )

و ستعطيني تلميحاً

! اصفعني بيبي مرة أخرى

*a disclaimer

(original)

not to sound any serious but,

this my arabic version of Britney Spears's "one more time"

now, "hit me" can mean a lotta of things

i thought i'd stick to an original hit me in arabic

and please, don't take this seriously

it's out of pure boredom, and to be honest

i kinda miss translation, so i thought this would be fun

and it was :)

(to do)

let's buy milk,
take the 06:07 am bus,

kill the driver,

and keep going,

until we find a place we call home.

"Crapology"

an enclosed collection of letters, and garbage.


#1
in a small square,
filled with clouds,
and rain,
stacks of dreams
jump my face.


#2
time has stopped,
it's illegal to talk
at this hour,
and soon enough,
I'll be looking for you
behind the sun.


#3
11:35 am.
empty waiting room,
annoying copy machines,
meaningless.
he's in a meeting
'til the sun goes down.

#4
crossed legs,
swallen toe,
a chock'd up smile
and a coffee to go.

#5
yesterday,
i had tea for breakfast
a dream for lunch
and a lie for supper
starving,
i never woke up.

#6
Dan Humphry.

#7
menue:
extras,
clock,
set alarm:
'2 years from now'
OK.

blueberry fields

I woke up that day gravity challenged,
trying to fight the heaviness of my eyelids,
finally my eyes were partially open.

"Total Moisture.."
an upside down bottle of body lotion was on the dresser,
right in front of my sight, I kept blinking..
and reading the meaningless lines on the bottle.

ten minutes later, my brain started to engine,
I had to get out of my warm bed. and I did, successfully.

it was a freezing morning,
and my room looked blue, it needed more light,
I headed to the window feeling the cold attacking every angle of my being,
my fingers started to feel more and more rigidy,
I tried to pull, but the curtains refused to spread open,
as if they were holding each other.

I didn't have the heart to shred them apart
so I moved them together to the other side.

it was 11:13 am, my brain kept squealing for caffeine,
my brain gave my mouth an order to unseal, and I stared calling our maid:
"katty, ..katty, ..KATTY!"
"yes ma'am?"
"my coffee, please" ..remembering,
"don't add any sugar Katty!"
"ok ma'aam"
and there, my beloved coffee started to boil.

as I locked the door,
and started to yawn, accompanied by my hands' stretching,
I turned the other side of the room,
and a huge paper on the television screen interrupted my daily ritual.

I slithered closer, it read:
"dear, don't remove the blue bandage around your neck, I'll be home soon"
the writing was barely readable. it was mom's.

reading the note, my hands unconsciously started tracing the bandage,
and it was really there.

passing by the dresser, I straighten up the lotion bottle and looked at my neck.
I had no memory of wearing it, but I remember yesterday, it was sunshine peaceful.

brushed my teeth. washed my face, and just couldn't stop thinking about that blue bandage. what could have happened? my brain was having a terrible time coming up with suitable scenarios, none of which seemed realistic enough. it was almost 12, mom is not home yet and I needed a shower.

everything was set, I pulled my hair up, and started to unwrap the bandage.
it was tighter than it looked.


the bandage was off, and as I looked closer into the mirror, ..
there was a fine red line around my neck, it was getting more and more visible,
a small stream of blood started going down my neck,
a second later,
my head fell into the sink and my body collapsed on the floor.





leading me to a one and only conclusion,
"I was murdered."

my two, and final concerns were,
the unknown fate of my well-deserved cup of coffee. and myself, laying there naked.

the BLAH !

umm...
today is the 5th Sept. not a special day I know, I think I came to know some people a lil more. Not an exciting thing but I understood their stupid attitude :)

con, consortium, I know in spanish y latin 'con' means together, the rest is related I guess !
family can be be real pain if they wanted to, out of helping you and thinking what is best for you in life and all, which maybe true if they just gave you the choice to decide, pfff.. they don't !

ever heard of the AP five cards? ..better, they're suppose to boost the 'writer' or storyteller in you, they're suppose to be short, vivide, and represent pieces of you, or something.

I just finishe a huge cup of Joe's cousin, cappuccino that is ! that's equal to a hug for me, which reminds me, I have'nt had a hug in a while now, yea it's pretty stupid ..yo se :) !

pronto,
11:03 pm