The rivers that flow carry water, and the water that is dispersed at a later time can be seen as one. We cannot differentiate between the water by its destination, it’s one, linked together. When taking water with a bucket, it separates and though it’s still water it doesn’t seem like part of the stream, and yet by pouring it back, it merges again, and you can no longer distinguish what you had in your bucket from what’s there in the stream.
With this water all thirst is quenched and through this water we all become part of each other. We share the one thing we all need, and though we think we’re different, we’re not. We’re one stream that has been separated by many ways.
The air in my lungs leaves me and joins the air around us, and after some time that same air that has visited my insides finds its way to your lungs. Many a sad sigh have I given out, bearing with it a part of me, and which you have inhaled and many a previous laughter have I inhaled too. And so the air that has visited my insides, my very own internal places, that I myself have not seen, has visited you as well.
So why do you oppress me and despise me. Why do you look down upon me like I’m worthless? Why do you hold a gun to my head and threaten to take my life. Why do you steal from me and not earn your living instead. Why do you hate me for no reason at all.
Can’t you see we’re water that has been taken out of a stream? Can’t you see we’ll one day join that stream again. What will you do then, when we’re joined once more. Can you hate yourself and cheat yourself, for we are one.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Mad at Retro
So I just woke up from a good afternoon sleep on a Friday afternoon. It was a very nice nap, I was recharged, but I found myself annoyed by something, and I had to write it down and send it out, because I wouldn’t want something like this to spoil one of my rare afternoon siestas. I’m annoyed by a place called Retro, which is just behind the Shooting Club and near Bent el Sultan café in Dokki / Mohandeseen. Now the reason I’m annoyed is fairly trivial, but it makes my blood boil. It’s a bit expensive, but we can forgive it that given that good places are hard to find and that it’s a matter of demand and supply. A place like this has its perks but the reason it pisses me off is that it disrespects me.
When in Egypt, I don’t know if everyone feels this way or not, but I certainly do, it feels like I’m being ripped off everywhere I go. It seems that the service is always crappy and that you always have to pay too much for it. It seems that every institution has its own absurd rules to make you pay money, and you have to pay and pay through and through. Maybe it’s cheaper here than elsewhere, but we also get less money than abroad, and the most annoying part is that no one tells you flat out what you need to pay. There’s ALWAYS an absurd catch.
What’s this got to do with Retro Café? I’ll tell you. There’s a minimum charge, sure, that’s a culture we’re forced to deal with in our cafés, no point saying that they don’t do that elsewhere, because over here they want to limit the number of people in an already crowded place. Of course as time goes on the place realizes it needs less customer satisfaction and more money, which it gets eventually, but that’s another point.
Anyway, so nothing wrong with minimum charge though I have my reservations, but here’s what ticks me off. When Retro said its minimum charge was 25 L.E per person - which is already over the top for someone having a juice - it also said that when paying the ‘minimum charge’ (which is the least you can pay, by definition) it said that there are taxes put on the MINUMUM #@$^* CHARGE. Now it’s not about the money really, cause 20 % to someone who can afford to go to this place is not a big deal, but what’s the damn point??? Whatever it is, I guarantee it’s a stupid point and I guarantee it’s a total rip off! It doesn’t make any sense, why would you add taxes to something that you’re not obliged to charge by law? Why other than to rip people off or cheat the government for taxes. Do you mean to convince me that all these taxes go to the government?? Of course not. They probably just tax the service you get and keep the remainder.
The whole point is that I feel ripped off. It makes no sense, and when I asked the waiter what the heck does that mean, he said everyone knows that the minimum charge is taxed. Well I’m sorry, ‘everyone knows’ is never an excuse. What does it hurt to say that our minimum charge is 29 pounds instead? It doesn’t, I just don’t understand, I feel cheated, I feel lied to, I feel disrespected because the owners of the place who made this rule clearly don’t respect their customers’ intelligence or understanding since they expect us to buy that crap of taxes on minimum charge; why don’t they just make it so that the minimum charge (as they call it) plus tax is equal to 25 ? There are so many things they can do, but they haven’t, I feel cheated.
If this is some conspiracy to make us hate taxes, then I’m sorry, it hasn’t worked with me, because I hate the place not the taxes now, because they really have no excuse. Taxes don’t have anything to do with this, they’re not obliged to pay the taxes they’re demanding of me. This seems too much like fraud and it makes me angry specially that no one was able explain it. Even if there is a point to it, like I said, it’s a stupid point.
Oh and don’t get me started on the whole deal with Pepsi cans at the end of a night where 15 people just spent 500 L.E in some places and due to the minimum charge thing the waiters come up and ask you if you want Pepsi cans to go. You take a few Pepsi cans home with you that you can buy at any shop for 2 L.E each, I really feel like telling them, keep your DAMN CANS to yourselves. That pisses me off. I really do get pissed off, maybe I’m just asking too much. What makes it worse is bad service and luckily we’re surrounded by that. I’ve almost quit going to cafés.
Well I don’t know if that means I’m a miser or that I’m cheap, but it’s a luxury I wouldn’t like to use every day of the week, maybe once in a while. I mean somehow I feel guilty spending 29 pounds for a juice while some people’s salaries are almost 5 visits to a place like Retro.
Maybe you’ll ask why not get food or something instead of spending the 29 pounds on a juice, but I’ll tell you something, cafés are just good for meeting people, and if there were better places to go or better activities to do, I’d abandon cafes. Hats off for PTP events that gives hope that some activities can still be done in Egypt.
Anyway, that’s just the tip of the iceberg for me, I mean that just annoyed me enough to rant on for all this time. There are the car keepers that just keep the cars when they don’t need keeping, there are the long distance calls that charge you for their bad lines, there are phone companies who can never admit they’re wrong. Come on people am I being paranoid here? Or am I just angry? I don’t really know, all I know is that I’m annoyed at Retro for their lame rule that insults its customers’ intelligence.
Will
31st March 2006
If you’re reading this, you’ve either skimmed cause you got bored early, or you’ve got lots of patience. :)
So I just woke up from a good afternoon sleep on a Friday afternoon. It was a very nice nap, I was recharged, but I found myself annoyed by something, and I had to write it down and send it out, because I wouldn’t want something like this to spoil one of my rare afternoon siestas. I’m annoyed by a place called Retro, which is just behind the Shooting Club and near Bent el Sultan café in Dokki / Mohandeseen. Now the reason I’m annoyed is fairly trivial, but it makes my blood boil. It’s a bit expensive, but we can forgive it that given that good places are hard to find and that it’s a matter of demand and supply. A place like this has its perks but the reason it pisses me off is that it disrespects me.
When in Egypt, I don’t know if everyone feels this way or not, but I certainly do, it feels like I’m being ripped off everywhere I go. It seems that the service is always crappy and that you always have to pay too much for it. It seems that every institution has its own absurd rules to make you pay money, and you have to pay and pay through and through. Maybe it’s cheaper here than elsewhere, but we also get less money than abroad, and the most annoying part is that no one tells you flat out what you need to pay. There’s ALWAYS an absurd catch.
What’s this got to do with Retro Café? I’ll tell you. There’s a minimum charge, sure, that’s a culture we’re forced to deal with in our cafés, no point saying that they don’t do that elsewhere, because over here they want to limit the number of people in an already crowded place. Of course as time goes on the place realizes it needs less customer satisfaction and more money, which it gets eventually, but that’s another point.
Anyway, so nothing wrong with minimum charge though I have my reservations, but here’s what ticks me off. When Retro said its minimum charge was 25 L.E per person - which is already over the top for someone having a juice - it also said that when paying the ‘minimum charge’ (which is the least you can pay, by definition) it said that there are taxes put on the MINUMUM #@$^* CHARGE. Now it’s not about the money really, cause 20 % to someone who can afford to go to this place is not a big deal, but what’s the damn point??? Whatever it is, I guarantee it’s a stupid point and I guarantee it’s a total rip off! It doesn’t make any sense, why would you add taxes to something that you’re not obliged to charge by law? Why other than to rip people off or cheat the government for taxes. Do you mean to convince me that all these taxes go to the government?? Of course not. They probably just tax the service you get and keep the remainder.
The whole point is that I feel ripped off. It makes no sense, and when I asked the waiter what the heck does that mean, he said everyone knows that the minimum charge is taxed. Well I’m sorry, ‘everyone knows’ is never an excuse. What does it hurt to say that our minimum charge is 29 pounds instead? It doesn’t, I just don’t understand, I feel cheated, I feel lied to, I feel disrespected because the owners of the place who made this rule clearly don’t respect their customers’ intelligence or understanding since they expect us to buy that crap of taxes on minimum charge; why don’t they just make it so that the minimum charge (as they call it) plus tax is equal to 25 ? There are so many things they can do, but they haven’t, I feel cheated.
If this is some conspiracy to make us hate taxes, then I’m sorry, it hasn’t worked with me, because I hate the place not the taxes now, because they really have no excuse. Taxes don’t have anything to do with this, they’re not obliged to pay the taxes they’re demanding of me. This seems too much like fraud and it makes me angry specially that no one was able explain it. Even if there is a point to it, like I said, it’s a stupid point.
Oh and don’t get me started on the whole deal with Pepsi cans at the end of a night where 15 people just spent 500 L.E in some places and due to the minimum charge thing the waiters come up and ask you if you want Pepsi cans to go. You take a few Pepsi cans home with you that you can buy at any shop for 2 L.E each, I really feel like telling them, keep your DAMN CANS to yourselves. That pisses me off. I really do get pissed off, maybe I’m just asking too much. What makes it worse is bad service and luckily we’re surrounded by that. I’ve almost quit going to cafés.
Well I don’t know if that means I’m a miser or that I’m cheap, but it’s a luxury I wouldn’t like to use every day of the week, maybe once in a while. I mean somehow I feel guilty spending 29 pounds for a juice while some people’s salaries are almost 5 visits to a place like Retro.
Maybe you’ll ask why not get food or something instead of spending the 29 pounds on a juice, but I’ll tell you something, cafés are just good for meeting people, and if there were better places to go or better activities to do, I’d abandon cafes. Hats off for PTP events that gives hope that some activities can still be done in Egypt.
Anyway, that’s just the tip of the iceberg for me, I mean that just annoyed me enough to rant on for all this time. There are the car keepers that just keep the cars when they don’t need keeping, there are the long distance calls that charge you for their bad lines, there are phone companies who can never admit they’re wrong. Come on people am I being paranoid here? Or am I just angry? I don’t really know, all I know is that I’m annoyed at Retro for their lame rule that insults its customers’ intelligence.
Will
31st March 2006
If you’re reading this, you’ve either skimmed cause you got bored early, or you’ve got lots of patience. :)
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Last night as I went to sleep, I experienced something that terrified
me. I found my soul being quickly pulled away from my body, traveling
with such speed that in an instant I found myself in a completely
different world. It's hard to explain how I felt, but I knew I was not
in a dream, and I knew I was not awake. I just found myself in a
different world conscious of myself in a completely different manner.
I had a strong feeling that this was death, for I felt absolutely no
connection to my body. None of the slightest physical signs that
accompanied me in my usual dreams were present, none of those feelings
of comfort or discomfort that made their way from my body to my dream. I
was so scared and so alone and I was in a state of shock. I was shocked
to be facing the end without warning, shocked because, looking back,
this was all my life had been.. nothing. As I looked back upon it there
was nothing worth remembering and now it was over, I've had my chance.
It was as if I was in a stateless realm, floating as if to determine
where I would go next. It terrified me to be so alone, leaving the world
I know and being inside a world I did not know of. I knew nothing about
this world except how unknown it was to me, and how it scared me while I
was living.
Then I found myself being asked to remember the good or bad I have done,
and perhaps even determine for myself whether I deserved to go to a
better place. Being a believer, I felt that this was the equivalent
deciding to go to heaven or hell.
I looked back at my life and I saw nothing that would make me worthy of
a better place. I had done nothing of value and my short days had been
wasted. Death was so near all along, constantly presenting an instant,
long distant ticket, whose destination took no time to reach.
I got more scared and I was filled with despair, to look my own fate in
the eye was more than I could bear. I had to get back to the world I
knew and do something good. I had to make my way back. I tried to wake
up, utterly fearful that when I do, I would find myself dead. Still I
tried, because I needed another chance. I had no choice but to try, but
deep inside I was so fearful, because I would rather have remained
there, with the slightest chance that this really was a dream, than go
back and realize for certain that this was the end. With fear I tried,
and I succeeded. I felt my soul rushing back to my body. As I opened my
eyes I was thankful for being alive yet concerned at how empty my life
really is.
I was so determined when I woke up to do something with my life,
something with that very little time that constitutes my life, something
that can earn me the right to remember it as I'm being asked to look
back at my life for something that's worth anything.
But here I am today, almost forgetting this journey, nothing has changed
and life deludes me into thinking I have much more time to live. I
don't. Even though I woke up, the next time I might not.
Will E.
4th October 2005
me. I found my soul being quickly pulled away from my body, traveling
with such speed that in an instant I found myself in a completely
different world. It's hard to explain how I felt, but I knew I was not
in a dream, and I knew I was not awake. I just found myself in a
different world conscious of myself in a completely different manner.
I had a strong feeling that this was death, for I felt absolutely no
connection to my body. None of the slightest physical signs that
accompanied me in my usual dreams were present, none of those feelings
of comfort or discomfort that made their way from my body to my dream. I
was so scared and so alone and I was in a state of shock. I was shocked
to be facing the end without warning, shocked because, looking back,
this was all my life had been.. nothing. As I looked back upon it there
was nothing worth remembering and now it was over, I've had my chance.
It was as if I was in a stateless realm, floating as if to determine
where I would go next. It terrified me to be so alone, leaving the world
I know and being inside a world I did not know of. I knew nothing about
this world except how unknown it was to me, and how it scared me while I
was living.
Then I found myself being asked to remember the good or bad I have done,
and perhaps even determine for myself whether I deserved to go to a
better place. Being a believer, I felt that this was the equivalent
deciding to go to heaven or hell.
I looked back at my life and I saw nothing that would make me worthy of
a better place. I had done nothing of value and my short days had been
wasted. Death was so near all along, constantly presenting an instant,
long distant ticket, whose destination took no time to reach.
I got more scared and I was filled with despair, to look my own fate in
the eye was more than I could bear. I had to get back to the world I
knew and do something good. I had to make my way back. I tried to wake
up, utterly fearful that when I do, I would find myself dead. Still I
tried, because I needed another chance. I had no choice but to try, but
deep inside I was so fearful, because I would rather have remained
there, with the slightest chance that this really was a dream, than go
back and realize for certain that this was the end. With fear I tried,
and I succeeded. I felt my soul rushing back to my body. As I opened my
eyes I was thankful for being alive yet concerned at how empty my life
really is.
I was so determined when I woke up to do something with my life,
something with that very little time that constitutes my life, something
that can earn me the right to remember it as I'm being asked to look
back at my life for something that's worth anything.
But here I am today, almost forgetting this journey, nothing has changed
and life deludes me into thinking I have much more time to live. I
don't. Even though I woke up, the next time I might not.
Will E.
4th October 2005
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
The sound of the fire alarm is more disturbing than it usually is at this ungodly hour. At 4am in the morning I hear the hurtful sound, and though I know it’s not the real deal, I’m greatly disturbed. Maybe not by the sound itself, albeit very disturbing, but by the culmination of noise and darkness amidst total silence. I’m terror stricken by thoughts that have passed through my head in the morning and in the afternoon and at night just before going to bed, but at this hour, they have a deadly and different flavor. They visit me with such intensity and though they’re the same thoughts, the feelings that accompany them are different. Climbing out of bed, I’m more aware of how alone I am, how danger surrounds me as I fight this world on my own. The deadly pestilence of the night reminds me of the harshness of the world. I fear because I’m alone, and at 4 am, there’s more to fear.
Why do these thoughts that visit me impact me so? Have I not thought them a million times over and faced them fearlessly? I’m totally caught off guard, from the safety, warmth and the comfort of sleep to the danger and discomfort of walking out of a building to find sub zero temperatures attacking me. I feel so vulnerable and meek and small in a big fat world.
It worsens when I get up, knowing what I have to do, and remembering all the times I’ve been out there before. I look for things around to keep me warm, but I know how it’ll feel, I know that the cold will be accentuated by the coldness I feel from sleepiness. Lazily I walk alone, towards the exterior of my building, being forced to leave my comfort, reminds me of life. The feeling of the cold outside with many sleepy heads surrounding me depresses me. The vision of snow all over in the dark night sinks me down.
It’s a scary depressing terror that rings me out of my bed at 4 am, it feels like I’ve traveled though. It feels that I’m somewhere else, and sometimes the feelings seem more real than they are when I’m wide awake during the day, and sometimes the feelings seem like a dream, a weary dream. Will I feel so alone when I go to the final destination.. this is the 4 am terror that touches me deeply..
Why do these thoughts that visit me impact me so? Have I not thought them a million times over and faced them fearlessly? I’m totally caught off guard, from the safety, warmth and the comfort of sleep to the danger and discomfort of walking out of a building to find sub zero temperatures attacking me. I feel so vulnerable and meek and small in a big fat world.
It worsens when I get up, knowing what I have to do, and remembering all the times I’ve been out there before. I look for things around to keep me warm, but I know how it’ll feel, I know that the cold will be accentuated by the coldness I feel from sleepiness. Lazily I walk alone, towards the exterior of my building, being forced to leave my comfort, reminds me of life. The feeling of the cold outside with many sleepy heads surrounding me depresses me. The vision of snow all over in the dark night sinks me down.
It’s a scary depressing terror that rings me out of my bed at 4 am, it feels like I’ve traveled though. It feels that I’m somewhere else, and sometimes the feelings seem more real than they are when I’m wide awake during the day, and sometimes the feelings seem like a dream, a weary dream. Will I feel so alone when I go to the final destination.. this is the 4 am terror that touches me deeply..
Saturday, March 18, 2006
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