Fresh Air, Quick Press

This Amy Mowafi girl! What a character! I read her booklet Fe-mail last night, and then dozed off, thinking “Must, must, must blog about it.” And I will do write a proper blog entry — since I’m posting this one from my cell phone, on the go, getting out of Cairo for fresh air- and it should be dedicated to her, and perhaps called “The trials and tribulations of being a changing girl.” Yup, I discovered that this is, right now, what defines me: I change.
Therefore I am.
Or not.
Well, maybe.
Exactly.
I don’t understand myself. I woke up this morning, ready for another blogpost, that I’d written in my head while sleeping, and another book. I had also intended to go to the refugee film festival. But one phone call from a friend (more like a pleasant surprise) changed that. The friend suggested we travel for the day, it was already after prayers -a bit too late for hitting the road and getting out of Cairo- but dangerously craving fresh air, I said “Yes” immediately, almost without thinking, at the risk of sounding desperate … plans for supporting human rights, blogging and reading like a good nerd were thrown out of the window, in less than a second. Spontaneity ruled; a fresh change considering how uptight I had become lately. I packed two, or three books (just to convince myself I’m still sophisticated), put on my blue desert scarf (unwashed since the Sinai trip and carrying someone else’s sweat, but who cares? Gives it a distinct personality) and tied my hair back, put on my new aviator shades and decided that as a tribute to Amy (a girl I never met, but almost clashed with on twitter because of @sandmonkey), I’ll write a short blog post from my phone, telling people how this time I’d chosen the sea over the desert, and chosen sad French love songs (that come with instant translation from the driver/friend) over sobby refugee survival stories. Shame on me? I don’t feel so. And I’ll elaborate on that where I’m back to the city that kills, conquers and makes you lonely. But before I fall back into my thoughts, disappear into the backdrop of the real world, and float away in my head, I’d like to tell the desert that it will always be my first love, the love unforgotten, even though I’m now trying to love the sea and reconnect with it again. My love for you is romantic, poetic, indescribable, your silence scares and awes me, it’s both enigmatic and inspirational, but my desire to enjoy the sea is pure biology, biophilia, to be precise. (will later link to my post about biophilia, and if you’re too curious, google it)

Listening to … Valerie Lynch (allegedly spanish, no one understands), air and cars rushing by
Mood: adventurous, grateful, thoughtful, contemplative, smiling softly (perhaps nostalgically) in my head
(Yup, I’m a girl so I’m allowed to mutli-feel)

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