Skip to main content

"Sugar" was her name

I cannot tell if it is guilt, or the bitter acceptance of my nature that weighs me down this morning.

I cannot tell if it is truly my nature, or if I am simply an addict, seeking nourishment in all the wrong places- at all the wrong times.

A binge eater .. I fast, famine and feast - devour the fruit before it is ripe - I am left with indigestion.

"If only you had waited."

Reprimand myself, I fast then بفطر على بصله , coated with chocolate to trick my imagination into thinking it sweet.

"But onions are good for you, so what if they smell."


Today I wish I were catholic, so I could go to a priest and confess. He would subscribe a few Hail Marys to me and I would be forgiven ...

If only I were a believer, I would repent.

But is it sin to want - to taste - to eat?
And if one does not taste, how would one know ... is the apple mushy or is it firm.... is it even an apple?

An apple a day keeps the doctor away, or so they say - but today's apples are packed with hormones and those can't be good for anyone.

A bite of an apple and I could go to sleep - snow white in a coma, waiting for a prince to kiss her awake, or a frog to tickle her feet as she dreams of biting an apple and waking up to her nudity.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fire

The wind doth deceive me and your voice I hear in the tree shrubs Possessed am I with your eyes They pierce my womb and into earth's core I fall to your embrace عشقٌ وجنون Smile to me For you I set my eyes on fire With the lashes of your eyes Hide me in the wallpaper So I can stay near you Unseen

Challenging Tradition in a Traditional Society #1

There are some traditions that are worth upholding, but many have collected thick layers of dust so opaque that we can no longer see what was once beneath them. We mistake the dust for the essence, incessantly complaining about a'raf and wajibat, the rights and wrongs of our forefathers...but we play along to avoid ridicule and choose the chains of cowardice, prejudice, and misconception. Ignorance. I am not saying that all traditions are outdated and useless-far from it, in our Arab culture are jewels and treasures, and I am the first to call for preserving them. But let us stop for a moment and consider what we are heeding, rather than following blindly like grazing sheep. Sheep and goats: I am reminded of kindergarden and a song we learnt in school. The teacher would walk around the classroom singing: Ya Ganamati . And we'd respond: Ma Ma . ...Ghannou waraya : Ma Ma ..and so on and so forth. Very endearing, but also very telling. We grow up, Ma Ma-ing until we reach the

The elections: A short lived drive ....

Disclaimer: I'm paraphrasing and making generalizations. "Voting is not a right, it is a duty!" I sign out with a slogan, to later realize that I missed the registration deadline and therefore can't vote, neither 'present' in Jordan nor 'absentee' in the US. My political naz3ah came too late. "Nonetheless," I told myself "I'll still follow up on the local campaigns, to learn about the political games." But overnight, and as the landscape of the city changed, I was completely turned off. My political naz3ah did not last too long. At first, I was entertained by the ludicrous slogans, photoshopped pictures and contrived smiles. It made traffic bearable, and even amusing at times. Some confirming the unspoken divides and others playing the religious card; slogans with questionable connotations, and my favorite, "nothing to say". I take my hat off. The woman jabat-ha min il-akher. After all, it's all B.S., so m