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Archive for March, 2013

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love

Put a bullet in my head
Make sure that I am dead
The world will be painted red
If my body’s not filled with lead

Hear the child cry 
Just before I die
Angels will fry 
For every time they lied

Feel the gods demise 
Look into our blackend eyes
Know one day we will rise
Seek payment for every sigh

But now I’m dead 
There’s a bullet in my head 
The world isn’t painted red 
Because she filled my body with lead

…Never love again 
Cause it’ll kill you in the end

— Author Unknown

love

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The broken lullaby 
Taunts me through the night 
My demons always try 
To break the will to fight 
A beautiful tragedy 
Has shown itself for all to see 
This comes as no surprise 
Between my blinded eyes 

The broken lullaby sings 
One more song, “Goodbye” 
Is it through with me? 
I don’t know 
In my core inside 

I hear it play again 
It’s where the pain begins 
The Crypt in my own skin 
It’s where I find a friend 
A beautiful tragedy, has finally surrounded me 
Wake me from this misery, the tune lulls me to sleep 

And I know it’s me 
Who locked me in the cage all this time 
And I know this Hell is forever mine…

— Author Unknown

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I like the Arab people because of their attitude to life, they live a calm and community oriented life which involves a lot of tea and social networking. They are close knit and generous. You have only to admire something and they will do their best to get it for you. They treat people with respect and hospitality and if you’re ever in trouble and need a place to hide, you should duck into an Arabs house. They will go above and beyond to help you. And I love Arabic and when I go to places such Dubai and Abu Dhabi, I feel so much more at home there like I belong. And I love Arab cuisine…. And I’ve always wanted to eat with my right hand than to use spoons and forks…..  ♥

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Batata Harra: literally “spicy potatoes”.

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Labneh: strained yogurt, spreadable and garnished with good olive oil and sea salt.

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Atayef asafiri – These are half moon shaped cheese filled fried pancakes

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No reservations, Anthony Bourdain in Saudi Arabia:

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Part 5:

HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE ARABS..?!?! ♥ ❤ ♥

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I sense a bliss in the
obsessive misery
that roams inside of me…
I feel a bliss in my abyss!

Although I feel the strain
in my struggle to stay sane,
the deep frustration in my heart
is not all that comes apart.
Now I sense within my mind
that beyond the verge I blind
lie emotions I defied
long before the day I lied.
Yet they are beyond control
and the taming takes a toll,
though I fiercely seek to face
what I in fear fought  to erase.
For every feeling wrought from pieces
obsessiveness increases.
All along I was wrong
on what rightfully belong.
I don’t know whereon to tread or even if I should care
but it’s yon time to find a focus now I’m finally aware.
So deep within the dark
I shall at last behold the spark!

I sense a bliss in the
obsessive misery
that roams inside of me…
I feel a bliss in my abyss!

My emotions have been broken
but they shall not be revoken.
All my mindless dashes
have brought me naught but ashes.
I can’t contain these forsaken shades,
consuming what is hollow as enlightenment fades.
I feel disarray, run astray,
cast away, in decay.
What is right? Should I fight
or just flee into the night?
The clarity of view
is accompanied by rue
that is seeping into me
and into everything I see.
Caught a glimpse of the Sun,
yet again it is undone.
In the end I depress
as my clearity digress.
I’ll be left to obsess
over foolish wishfulness.

I sensed a bliss in the
obsessive misery
that roams inside of me…
I felt a bliss in my abyss!

— Author Unknown

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He’s a-well gone huntin’ downstream
where the beautiful girls ain’t so mean
He’s got a broken heart, real bad start
from a lady who ain’t what she seems.

Shadows can’t dance in the dark, my son,
shadows can’t dance in the dark.

Totin’ moonshine and diamonds
the girls, ah boy do they flock
but he’s drinking it away; all mornin’, all day
watchin’ the hands of the clock.

Shadows can’t dance in the dark, my son,
shadows can’t dance in the dark.

Time ain’t a kind or sweet mistress
and she’s grinding ‘gainst all of his years
Still young inside, she preserved him that night
and he’s grinnin’, all cold in the smile.

Shadows can’t dance in the dark, my son,
stop drinking the stars from her eyes.
Shadows can’t stand in the dark, my son
stop drinking the stars from her eyes
Shadows won’t dance in your dark.

— Author Unknown

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