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Thursday, November 5, 2009

(V) Remember, Remember .. The Fifth of November

The dawn of the fifth of November is about to break the dark, I dont know if Bigpen is going to "Bing .. Bing" or explod ... but:



Remember Remember .. The Fifth of November

Gunpowder, treason and polt.

I see no reason, Why gunpowder treason.

should ever be forgoten.


***

"A specail Thank You to my Dearest Imad, cause this video was a amazing Gift"







V: I can assure you, I mean you now harm.

Evey: Who are you?

V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.

Evey: well, I can see that.

V: of course you can. I’m not questioning your power of observation, I’m merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

Evey: oh, right.

V: but on this most Auspicious of nights permit me then, in lieu of the more Commonplace Soubriquet to suggest the character of this dramatis persona. Voila in view a humble Vaudevillian veteran Cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage no mere veneer of vanity is a vanity vestige of vox populi now vacant vanished. However, this valorous visitation of bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal, virulent, vermin, van guarding, vice vouch safing the violently vicious and voracious voila of … (I’ve got lost here, and couldn’t catch him) …

The only vengeance; is verdict a vendetta held as a votive not in vain for the value and vera and veracity of such shall one day the vigilant and the virtuous ....

(he laughed ...)

verily this vichyssoise of verbiage most verbose, so let me simply add that's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V .

Evey: Are you a like crazy person?
V: I'm Quite sure they will say so.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Dr. Dr. Mutafa Mahmoud (R.I.P) .... Lives in my Memorie ....


About him ... : From Wiki.


Mustafa Kamal Mahmoud Husayn (Arabic: مصطفى كمال محمود حسين‎) (25 December 192131 October 2009) commonly known as Mustafa Mahmud (Arabic: مصطفى محمود‎) was an Egyptian scientist and a prolific author. Dr. Mustafa Mahmoud was born in Shibin el-Kom, Munufiyya province, Egypt. He was trained as a doctor, but later chose a career as a journalist and author, traveling widely and writing on many subjects.



Childhood and Youth


Mustafa Mahmud says that he was raised in a middle-class family. His father was employed as a secretary in the province of El Gharbiyya. He was a pious man with a model character - exemplary behavior, patience, endurance, persistence and work. He steadfastly performed his Prayers at the mosque, even the Dawn Prayer which he used to perform in congregation. Furthermore, he was affectionate to his children and sacrificed himself for their sake as did his mother.

Mustafa Mahmud says he led his early life in a pleasant atmosphere wherein there was no oppression or violence. Rather, he enjoyed freedom and responsibility. In his early age in elementary school, he failed three years consecutively, yet he was left without any reproach or blame. In his childhood, he used to lay down ill. Thus, he was deprived of enjoying rough play, and running, which the children used to indulge in. He remained an introvert and spent his early days in imagination and dreams. He dreamed of being a great inventor or a discoverer or a traveler or a famous scientist. His role models were Christopher Columbus, Edison, Marconi and Pasteur.


Living in Tanta next to As Sayyid El Badawy Mosque, attending the celebrations in El Mawlid (a religious festival) and the Sufi and Dervishes' recitals all had a great influence on his psychological and innovative structure.


Mustafa Mahmud's father suffered from paralysis for seven years and died in 1939. His death occurred after he had finished his secondary school, when he was making the decision to join the Faculty of Medicine. Shortly thereafter, his family left Tanta for Cairo along with his mother.
Mustafa Mahmud had described his life during adolescence as similar to that of the taming an unruly horse, the bridle of which was free for one time, and controlled for many others. The struggle was so hard, as it went on for a long time, leaving behind a body covered by wounds and contusions.



Medical Studies


Mustafa Mahmud chose Medicine as a field of study. In his autobiography, he says that felt content with it, and that he would be able to acquire science and knowledge of the mysteries. The study was intense, and it required strong desire, concentration, and devotion. Even though he needed to be more strict with himself, he was ambitious and his love for science and knowledge inspired him. However, he was often dissatisfied because of his feebleness; most of the time his ailing body forced me to stay in bed.


In his third year of studies he was admitted into hospital for two years of treatment. He describes this long isolation as a positive contribution to the development of his character, when he could indulge himself totally to reading and thinking of literary works. In these two years, the meditative character was fashioned within himself, and thus the writer was born.
After his recovery, he resumed his medical studies and says that he subsequently realized an immense change within himself. He discovered within himself the artist who reflects, reads, and peruses regularly the major sources of literature, plays, and novels. Owing to this new activity, (which in no time he became an expert at), he began to write regularly to the newspapers, (in his final year of Medicine). Accordingly, he had to intensify his effort to graduate and attain success. He started writing for El Tahrir and Rose El Yusef magazines. Due to his illness he graduated two or three years after his colleagues, in 1953.


He states that illness, suffering, and long isolation in the hospital caused his talents to gush forth … and pain was the very effective source and the real motive for all of those positive characteristics and benefits he developed as a human, a man of letters and a thinker. Pain also refined his character, made his innate nature so clear, revealed his religious sense , which led to his enlightenment, awareness and remembrance of Allah.



Journey from Doubt to Faith


Mustafa Mahmud says that it was not due to denial or obstinacy or disbelief. It was only reexamining a methodology, of which he started without long-established maxims. Along that journey, he was ever close to Allah. Nevertheless, he started thinking of religion from the very beginning… from the beginning of the innate-nature, and what it acknowledges without inherited values. He finished his journey stronger in faith, firmly-established in his belief. The journey had a great influence on all his 100 books he has written.



His frequent journeys


Mustafa Mahmud describes his frequent travels, starting with his journeys to the Tropics in Tanzania, Uganda, Kenya, and the south of Sudan, where he stayed for two months with the tribe of Niam Niam. Thereafter, he traveled to the Sahara Desert, to the oasis of Ghadamis, where he stayed for a month with the tribe of El Tawariq. Furthermore, he traveled to many capitals of European and American countries, such as: Italy, Germany, Greece, France, Canada and the United States; and to the Arab countries, beginning with Morocco and Algeria in the west; and ending with Lebanon, Syria and Saudi Arabia in the east.


There was another journey, one within himself; he boarded the ship of science, knowledge, philosophy, and religion (starting from the Indian Fideism, Zoroaster, Buddha; and ending with Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad. Finally he found his comfort and himself in the Qur'an. Thus he concluded his traveling, and devoted himself totally to reflection and contemplation. He lived among the jurists, scholars, and Sufis, and found that the Qur'an is an ocean around which all the branches of knowledge gather together.


He wrote five books criticizing the Marxist thought: Islamic left Fib; Marxism and Islam; Leftism Collapse; Why Did I Refuse Marxism?; and The Antichrist. He was persuaded that Marxism was one of the pickaxes which destroyed the current civilization; at worst, it was an instrument that caused the creation of a spiteful, negative and rejecting character. He has seventy-five books published, six of them were adapted for stage: (Earthquake; Man and Shade; The Great Alexander; The Social Gang (Shilla-t 'Uns); Blood Odor; The Devil Lives in our House), one of them (The Impossible) was presented as a film; twenty-five books deal with Islamic subjects; and the rest consists of studies and short stories. TV presented for him more than four hundred parts of the program "Science and Faith", in which the movie, scientific substance and Sufi meditation guide us to the faith in Allah.


In the very beginning of his writing literature, he met El Aqqad, who used to give him a hand by reading his writings to the attendants in the meeting held by Aqqad on Fridays, and also by publishing them in the Al Rissala (The Message) Magazine in the year 1947. He also met Kamal El Shinnawy, because of his help he was able to publish Mustafa Mahmud's articles in the Akher Sa`ah (the Last Hour) Magazine in the year 1948.


In the year 1960,he left his medical career, devoting himself totally to writing for newspapers. As a physician, moving from one hospital to another (particularly, among the Hospitals of Chest Diseases in Abbasiyya, Chest diseases in 'Almazha, Chest diseases in Dumyat, and the dispensary of Umm el-Masriyyeen), between the years 1953 and 1960, all had a great influence on his writings, principally: Storehouse No. 7 (`Anbar 7), the Social Gang (Shilla-t 'Uns), and Eating Bread (Akl-`Aysh). In the meantime, it had an influence on his scientific and anatomical access to the public adversities, to the human soul and to the characters he dealt with in all his writings.


Another character who had a profound effect on him was his father, whose long-time illness, patience, faith, and pure innate nature remained in his mind throughout his life. As he grew older and encountered life's affairs in his thirties, a woman played a great role in and had an effectual control on his life, as a friend, a dialogist, and a lover. His faults were always due to losing control of himself when he looked at any beautiful things. Above all, he believed that no man is a perfect one unless he has found a woman to love, to marry, to have children with, and to feel parenthood and establish a family.



Marriage


Mustafa Mahmud says that his first marriage in 1961 was not successful, though from it , he was endowed with a girl and a boy, Amal and Adham. The marriage ended in 1973. His second marriage in 1983 was also unsuccessful and ended in 1987. The reason behind these divorces was the passion of writing that controlled his life, his preoccupation with his work and finally his isolation. Yet both of them were to be blamed.


As soon as the second marriage had ended, he devoted himself totally to his mission and his goal, working as a Muslim scholar, a writer, and a thinker. At last, he was satisfied with this as his fate. Since then, he is residing in a small apartment attached to the mosque that he had built as a part of the Islamic Center in Al Dukki, carrying out his regular work. From his point of view, successful and prosperous work is to give treatment for all the physical and psychological diseases. The ability to convene between work and innovation is the most favored gift bestowed upon mankind from ALLAH.



His thought


On his website, Mustafa Mahmud gives the following opinions about various things:
In the usual course of things, he does not care for malice, envy and enmity, or wasting time arguing against them. He prefers keeping away from these abhorrent qualities and their owners to avoid wasting his power superfluously. The greatest triumph he has achieved in his life according to him was himself. It was as a result of the help of Allah, the strength with which He aided him, the Insight, the Light guiding his life and the virtuous model he had in his father, and his mother beside the righteous family he was brought up within.


The defeat of 1967 and the economic and moral collapse were the actual afflictions, which are still the most important ones, to be afraid of in his country Egypt. The victory of 1973 eased that feeling. Even though, the destructive influence of the communist system was ready to exist in his Egyptian country up till now.


He believes that the Egyptians have to exit from this communist environment, and from the remnants of the common economy brought into being by Abdel Nasser i.e., public sector, aimless free of charge educational system, the equality of workers and farmers in the number of voters, the oppression of a land owner by the tenant of the land whereby the tenant does not have any use of, but sublets it to others, leaving the countryside for cities and towns, agricultural collapse, the spirit of idleness, mutual dependence, envy, malice, alienation, and passive behaviors of which communism rooted in every field in the society.


The Egyptians have to cleanse our society from the fruitless and destructive methods of Abdel Nasser, because new buildings cannot be structured on a decayed foundation, taking into consideration that the building is not to be raised on a ruin. Unfortunately, the Egyptian set of laws is still suffering from Marxian failure, nevertheless the total change in our economic system. The very first problem, the Egyptians have to deal with is education i.e., its system and methods. These are to be completely changed. The very first concern is the focus on the high moral standards of work.


Merging of knowledge and performance is the only way for the economy to prosper, and for the population to change to bless. This is so clear by comparing the population of Japan or India, finding out that the Egyptians are less developed. As a result to working of most of them, India has covered its needs of corn. On the other hand, due to the high employment level, Japan overcame American products. South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia and Hong Kong have been able to be in the fore-front.


Work is a Kind of worship, blessing and belief. As long as education is exercised at home, in the mosque, in the factories, in the schools, and in the media, the Egyptians would be able to advance all the way. In Singapore, for example, the total number of its population is only three million; the total production exported abroad is about seventy billion dollars. This is tremendous as there is no petroleum, natural gas, iron, copper nor ore deposits. They even used to buy water from their neighbors. Hong Kong is one of the cities that produces and exports a larger amount of products estimated by doubles more than what Egypt, whose population is more than sixty million, exports; this is because of the incredibly high employment rate.


He is wondering, when will the Egyptians emerge from the field of malice, laziness, and the psychological ruin of which our authoritarian governments imbued in them, and become a productive working nation.


At which time are we to return to the normal innate nature, and fresh minds of which the true Muslim is characterized.


He hopes to be "himself" no more, and to introduce to the whole world the best he has to offer, and to go on working until his last breath, close to Allah, asking Him to be pleased with him. Finally, he hopes Allah allows him to leave this world as good as he can.



Saturday, October 24, 2009

Dreams, Lines & more Beyond


Picture - From Alex


Since so long, when I had this dream of Nasa and Space, I have a great battel going on inside . Yesterday, when i came back home, I Smelled Kerosene in the hall and I knew they are oil paints. I reminded when my Sis was showing me her Palette of painting; I hold it in my hands and touched gently and it’s all came back to me. I tried to hide me tears and I thought: “this supposes to be mine!” No hard feelings, but really “this supposes to be mine!”.

I was the first to draw,I'm the one who is really feel the paper, colors & How to feel free with them, Who was watching my father during painting and Sculpts on wood, Who was going with him to his work evening since I was a kid, and now, every once and a while I feel like “left over” !

Here is my Space in the Space to write whatever I feel, so, don’t tell my you are selfish, black inside and arrogent cause you don’t dare to say so. Here, where nobody can hear me but you “who can understand this clearly” I am speaking of myself, for once, I need to speak about myself forgetting about people and say “Go to hell”.

Yeah, I admit it…I have lots of talents: Draw, Write, Design, Sing, Sight, Philosophing, Creativety, ……… and other things. I do have all these things. Sometime I can’t believe I exist, and sometime I feel like I am the badass here. I’m not an angle; I’m a unique human being.
Sometime I feel like I am defending myself “believe me, you don’t have to, Nour!” but also in a moment, I believe that my place is behind the red Curtains.

This Thursday, I was watching Troy at 1:00 am and I had strong feeling about the way I’ll die. I was watching Hector and I knew that I am like him in lots of things, and also my dreams at night, and my dream of “how I’ll die in –Wa Nalka Al-Aheba with Amr khaled” and my favorite Cartoons of my childhood “Zoro, Spiderman, Lady Oscar –Rose De Versaille- and batman” they all trying to tell me something, to complete a big puzzle to me of the way of my life from the moment I opened my eyes till the moment of closing them. It’s really big painting and alive too and in the background of all this, big Orchestra is playing a very amazing piece of music “opera, Tango Argantino, Jazz, Irish music, Greek music” they all together dancing cheek to cheek.

Love … Oh, Love … an endless poem so strong like Niagara Falls, a secret place between the stars, small pieces that make my life and smell like sweet Magnolia under the shadow of Linden … it’s what makes this world get wilder and our steps get closer. It’s what make the absence is a sleeping volcano Explode on meeting.


Sunday, October 11, 2009

About Fayroza ...

Little girl named Fayroza … she was born in a small wooden house in the mountains and raised in a beautiful place where everything is so clear … she was so innocent to be born in such world … she was living her life chasing butterflies and collecting roses … her hair was like the golden sun and her cheeks were like apples …

Fayroza was seeing the beauty in everything around whether it was black or white; she has pure emotions to everything and everyone. Love was the thing she was living by, in the beat of her heart, the air that she's breathing, the steps of hers, every wish in her birthday, every kiss and every hug, every word and every smile … all her life is about love … but, nothing stays still !

She was seven years old when she saw some rush crazy man running towards her town screaming "the war is coming … the war is coming!" …
She was watching with terrified eyes, and he was still saying "everyone is coming, every man, every boy, any one can hold a weapon"… during this, she was in a big maze, looking in the frightened eyes of people … she saw cruelness and weakness, savagery and sadness … she couldn’t understand all this nervous air, so she ran to her mum, hold her legs and cried … what's happening?, why is everything turning into a mess after all this peace?. She looked to her mum holding a trodden rose; her mum hid a tear from her …

After a few normal days and she was forgetting a little bit about yesterday … she woke up on some loud noise, she looked from the window, to see great dust in the air, she had no time to wonder, she went straight to her parents’ room, but it was already empty so she ran downstairs to find her mum standing on the door waving to her father.

The war started on the other side of mountains, there was another one started in her town … While there were no men, thieves, mercenary and militia were taking everything, killing everyone. Women couldn’t get out freely to go to markets or to check on their farms; children couldn’t play beside the small river.


Fayroza was sleeping beside her mother dreaming of her heroes saving the town and bringing her father home safe. She dreamed that he came back holding his head up and smiling to her saying that war is over and everything is okay. She was covering herself by his scarf which she is wearing all the time, she was telling her mother that she can smell her daddy’s scent in it, her mother smiles to her and wipes away a fallen tear.

***

-“Mammy, I’m happy!”
-“And why is that baby?”
-“Because I feel my daddy is near”
-“How?!”
-“My heart is telling me this, and I see angels protecting him in my dreams”

Her mother smiled at her sadly. She’s just a little girl, how could she know or understand what’s going on or how wars could be.

-“Mama, why are you smiling? … I know, you don’t believe me, do you?” Fayroza said irritated.
-“I do baby, I do believe you … but in such a world, don’t give your heart a big space, don’t open its door too much and don’t give it to anyone” mother said softly.

Fayroza felt angry and said crying “No body will take the space of my heart; no body can close its door or control it”.

She was crying so hard, she felt something strange and bad in these words of her mother as if her heart is pushed in a tiny box and need to explode but she couldn’t explain this to her mom when she hold her so tight, “I love you mammy”.

Sometimes, Fayroza cries at night alone. She stands on the window of her room looking to the mosque and the sky, speaks to God, and cries as if her mother wouldn’t hear her. She was praying for something she felt but didn’t know exactly what it is. But she always felt like it will be taken away from her. Her mother knows nothing about this but when she was watching her playing -when the town was safe- she felt that despite her innocent and big smile, there’s another world inside her girl, that she has a big heart. It can be hurt from anyone but it can’t die. She was very proud but the fear was killing her.

Days was passing by and the fighters were still in their own battle, the only new thing was a surveillance tower and four soldiers whom were paid by some of those mercenary to cover them and secretly steal food for them, and that disturbed town people for a while but they kept it inside for their kids safety.

***

It’s been two months now and still there are no signs for the end of this crisis. But this shining little girl had enough life inside to move on, to think of her bright dreams, her colors, papers and the small roses beside the river.

One day she was so happy and playing around her mother. Her heart was beating from happiness as she was telling her mother to put her hand on her chest and feel her beats.
- “I told you, mammy, my heart will never die … you always tell me that God angels are around keeping me safe, aren’t they?” Fayroza said to her mother while she was giving her a kiss.

-“Yes sweetie, you are my pearl and I am sure you have the sea inside” her mother said proudly.
-“What does this mean?”
-“I mean, you have a big heart and a bright mind” said her mother with love.

Fayroza smiled so innocently to her mother while she stopped playing and started drawing something in her small sketch,
-“What are you drawing, baby?”
-“Wait mammy, don’t look now, I’ll show you” Fayroza hid her papers.

Suddenly, Fayroza stopped drawing

- “can you hear mama?”
-“hear what baby?”
-“……”

She went fast toward the door.
-“Where are you going? … Fayroza, No!”

Her mother shouted loudly, she chased her but Fayroza was standing by the door
-“I told you never to …”

-“It’s my dad…look, he’s coming behind this hill”

By then a covered man showed up, she ran towards him “daddy…” she yelled.
Seeing her, a man from the militia who was trying to hunt a Dove from the beginning of the day thought “let’s try to shoot, maybe I can get her!” putting an evil on his dark dirty face.

Her mother was so happy and so afraid and so …… she didn’t know what her feeling was exactly, she was disturbed and stressed; she thoughts “It’s okay now, he’s here”.

She heard a loud sound that cut off her thoughts; she looked to watch the most unbelievable scene, the fall of all seasons, the fall of time, the fall of innocence. The real treason mixed with the purest blood ever. “Fayroza………!” Fayroza fell on her knees down to the legs of her father with her blood on his shocked face. She collapsed silently. She was falling while the whole world is rising for her.

She was shaking in her father’s hands “you are not … my father!” she said it with a big tear dropping from her small eye then, …the peace lighted up her face. The man didn’t know what to do while her mother was running toward her crying madly “I will kill you, I will kill you monster…I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll tear your heart into pieces”

She bended beside Fayroza trying to catch her breath which was already gone. She saw some curved paper in her daughter hand; she pulled it to see what these little hands were drawing. It was a small family: man, woman and little girl holding their hands and swinging; the blue sky is full with small angels around the sun and big words were written (I love my ...) “she couldn’t even complete her words … she thought…her father is…” she whispered crying; she yelled: “Why…………?” but the answer was death. Eight hot bullets went through her back just to fall beside her daughter … then, the silence again.

In this horrible morning, no one was allowed to carry their bodies to pray and bury them properly. But there were rumors that: a stranger came late at night, crying so hard beside them that they heard his weeping. They saw him taking something then left his hands to the sky in a long pray. Minutes later there was a downpour and the wind was so wild that the river flooded to carry the two bodies away from this sinful land. By the dawn call, nothing remained.

Some say, that this stranger was a guardian angel from God, some say he was the man who witness their death and others say he was her father!

Nour Badr
Friday 21-8-2009
9:00 pm


Monday, September 21, 2009

Muhammad Legacy of Prophet ...

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5588678537059723932&ei=crO3SobnL6La2gKdv4yEAg&q=muhammad+legacy+of+prophet#

This's a link for a documentary Film about the Holy Prophet Muhammad .. and all the following info. from the same link ..

(I'm A Muslim, And I'm Proud)

***

Muhammad Legacy of Prophet
1:53:49 - 1 year ago


Muhammad Legacy of Prophet This documentary Film about the Holy Prophet and prayers for better delivery movie tells the story of the seventh century prophet, which changed world history in 23 years, and continue the formation of life More than 1.2 billion people.

The film takes viewers not only to the Middle East ancient sites Mohammed reflected in the story, but to homes and mosques and sites of some of the work American Muslims who arrive Their number to seven million Muslims, for the discovery of several forms of those who follow the Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him ( Muhammad Legacy of Prophet ) Film production by channel (PBS) of America ..

Terms of production and preparation .. show for the first time on December 18, 2002 to watch the millions .. Then re-broadcast the film in other channels more than 500 times and translated into some 12 languages Re-introduced in a number of countries and is also available in more than 23 schools and libraries Strong reaction from the American side, where the channel channel (PBS) Received more than 8000 e-mail! During the first month of supply and press, which Interaction with largely positive.

film show personality Prophet Muhammad and his religion .. Holy Prophet in a aspect very wonderful All this is based on the novels (correct) Mentioned by historians and intellectuals and university professors in the United States of America ------------- For more information on the movie channel, please visit the product Web site:

http://www.pbs.org/muhammad

Or more information about the Prophet Muhammad Visit the site of Prophet Mohammed of Islam :

http://www.Rasoulallah.net/index_english.asp

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel García Márquez

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Love in the Time of Cholera (Spanish: El amor en los tiempos del cólera) is a novel by Nobel Prize winning Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez that was first published in Spanish in 1985, with an English translation released in 1988 by Alfred A. Knopf. An English-language film adaptation was released in 2007.

- I've heard of it from Dr. Ahmed Khaled Tawfik, he said it's great novel to great author ... I've saw it in Diwan book store in cairo but i didnt buy it yet. Soon, I'll have and read it. I'll tell what i think of it then !

If you read it, saw the movie, you can share your thoughts with me here.

*** *** ***









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From Amazon :

http://www.amazon.com/Cholera-Penguin-Great-Books-Century/dp/0140119906

PDF e-book :

http://search.4shared.com/network/search.jsp?searchName=Love_in_the_Time_of_Cholera&searchExtention=&searchmode=2

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Between Two Philosophies !

This was a Conversation between Jeremiah and Me :
I Asked Him :

What do you thik of this Quote I said: "The Truth May Hide Between Light & Shadow"

Jeremiah: A void is a zone that contains absolutely nothing. No ground, no air, gravity, nothing at all. It proceeds in all directions forever, the thought frightens me actually, and however they exist within the gap between dimensions and universes. Much different from the place when those dimensions collide...as I understand it, truth transcends both light and darkness. Not to say that light or darkness are below, but to say that they do not matter.

Truth is truth, and light/darkness can not change that.

Some things, some truths are built on unstable ground, which is why human truths may become lies. However....for some reason I feel like I am not communicating what I am really trying to say. I can not seem to put it into the correct words.


Nour: I can understand you ... and I’ll take it as your own philosophy.

Truth can not be a lie, but people can lie about it. Truth can be hidden between two events or two actions.

I say "between light and darkness our shadow hides, is that means we don’t have shadow?
We do, but at some point, we lose our sense of it !”
You can stay like this forever or all what you have to do is just pass through it to find your shadow "witch's the truth in this case"

The truth, we can find it in the hollows of death and life, we can see it on the water as a reflection, a Face we can recognize at the very first second, but in fact, it contains much more than a naked truth. I mean, when you look at the water of some calm river at night, you can see your face but also you will find the sky reflection in the water not only your face! In this very moment, you may see only your face and you may see the whole picture, and both is true, but one is not completed and the other is so completed That you may lost in it.

This is my philosophy about it... I hope you did get me, cause I feel like I get you in a big maze !