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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
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Tapping at my chamber door

« Home | Why stop at Cairo? » | Ravings of fallen gladiators » | The world went spinning, the sun stood still... » | Silently, I blogged... » | The other side of My Majesty » | Burn baby, burn... 'tis all good!! » | Where is the rope? » | Let this war get more exciting... » | المفكرين من المجتمع » | Dear Alice, »

Mon parfait être

None of us is important. You are not the most attractive, even though you wish you were. Unique and special are just words that reflect how magnificently shallow you owe to be. Your intelligence precedes the inner stupid child that once existed when you were five and dangled from a broken swing that broke your elbow and cut your eye brow and marked a deep scar in the middle of your forehead through which your brain can leak in peace and harmony with every single happy memory you had as a child. You resemble every inch of brain-free intellect you had back then that now you're proud of forcing over others. You are not the king of the chessboard. You are hardly a stupid pawn, and ergo there are more than just the one you out there... and they're all pretty useless. You can top them at uselessness if it makes you feel any better. You don't have any special moves. You only move one step at a time, uniquely, guarding the imaginary kingdom you've created inside your self manipulated imagination, foolishly seeking a destiny of promotion. Self deceit and suicidal glory are the fuel that runs your broken engine. You are straight pathetic. A shallow mindless train of bullshit conclusions and theories that nobody cares to know, but delude you into thinking they're special and generously poised. You should have kept your mouth shut when you had the chance. You should count to 10 before you speak. You should count to gazillion before you speak. You shouldn't speak. You should have been born with your mouth located in the middle of your chest; that way you can only talk when you're naked... and when you're naked nobody cares what you have to say, because they'd be staring at your ugly deformed body, the body you thought was sexy enough to get you in bed with a Heidi Klum look alike, a fake supermodel makeup freak and wannabe. You didn’t know you would end up going to bed with your own self deluding pear shaped illusion of a pride you think mortifies in your own figment of a very sick and decomposing soul. Watch over all else from that tower high up in the lonely heaven you've created for your bare and humble existence, your own self-overdosed crane of wisdom. You think you bring originality around your mere existence. You think you make people laugh. You think you provide a comfy shoulder for people to cry on when maneuvering life and all its crap. Well, you're life and all its crap... and you shouldn't really think. You deserve to die alone. Come to think of it... you don't really deserve anything.

Life does not stop when you die. Life continues long after you are checkmated,

my beloved king,

my perfect, perfect being,

O Mightiest of them all,

I loathe your very existence,

I envy your immaterial presence.

funny this is what i keep on telling myself, although i know this is just an imaginary throne, it is the only throne that i got, that i ever will have this is why i keep on being midless, brainless, useless, pathetic...just name all the bad in this world.
and here i am yapping while i should shut up long time ago

Does this personality actually exist amongst us? The one person who only thinks he’s all of the above when he is in fact, all of the explanation that follows? Wouldn’t life be grand if at the moment of creation each of us was to receive a piece of paper explaining in detail what we’re truely worth?

A price tag would be grand yeah.. i would like to believe that mine would read FREE.

how to put a price on an unwritten piece of paper?

words have long ago died on my ears before being born on my tongue.

sad but true.

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