Where Am I Going?!

I'm going to give her the flowers hand by hand :)

The Best Of Lyon, France

The Best Of Lyon

Thank You God…

Angry and unstable… that’s how everyone can describe me these days…
The peaceful boy is not me anymore… I’m feeling the deception, and the depression is drinking my blood like a mosquito… when I’m bored from it, I try to push it away… only few seconds pass and I hear it again annoying my ears, so I announce another self defeat…
No one decided to be away from me, but I decided to do…
That’s ongoing since I said that I will fight alone, as if the power is from me…
I love God… there in no one question, and he knows that…
Long time ago the periods where my heart is cold was so short… but now; I barely can go out…
I feel dry because of my daily tears… and more liters of water do not change the situation…
My body is surrounded by everything beautiful, but not my mind…
The flowers are asking what’s going on… I’m passing near them without even saying “hi”… the trees misses my touch… and the birds are talking to me, while I do not understand their sounds since a long time…
I live in the silence, that’s true… but in the "killer" one…
Today while working, my “palm” started ringing… I was surprised, I didn’t set it’s reminder for something… I took it to read…
I was surprised again… It was a yearly reminder I set many years ago…
It said: THANK YOU GOD…
When I read that, I felt something no one can describe…
When I wrote it and set it annually was when God changes something in my life… or you can say he colored her… when I stopped condemning people, because I understood that they are prisoners of something or someone, and that my role in life is not just healing their pain, but also to give them freedom…

What did I do? That’s a good question…
Because routine makes us forget, I set my “palm” to remind me every second… and the new phrase format is: “THANK YOU GOD FOR YOUR ETERNAL LOVE… I LOVE YOU AND I WILL ALWAYS DO SO”…

She Left...

Veronica El Nabbout , The Spring Daughter

She was forced by the "love of life"! I don't really know if I can say that...
The end point is that she left to live somewhere... to be in peace...
While she heard the explosions when she was in her mother's ovary, she cannot accept to hear them again... just as everyone of us...
Blood is everywhere... but specially "hating each other" is what made her fool... because she didn't know why they do so! And yet no body knows...

When I asked why did you do it, She said: what's wrong with my name? Can't I believe in stones and live simply in peace?!

They hate and kill us in the name of God!! While I know him, and he never wanted that... he never asked a human being to take revenge for him!
Witch God are they talking about? It seems their only God is satan...
It's absolutely true that no one expects where and when he will die, but everyone has to live in respect and dignity all the few years he will spend on earth...
Yet because of my nationalism, I would say I can tolerate to live without other's respect, but how can I live if the other(s) don't even accept my existence...
Until the blood suckers leave my country alone, I will not open my wings to come back...
I will cry blood for my Lebanon... I do it now... I will do it everyday...
I cannot change my name... i dont want to anyway... i will be forever the Lebanese flower...
But who cares about flowers, while life is cheaper than a gun...
I hate that night, when I took everything with me as I will never be back...
I hate that night...
I don't know what to say... my ideas are hazy... I hope I will see him again...
I'm so sad because I forgot something important there...

I forgot myself...

Isn't bizarre? I always could protect my garden from the storms, the dry weather... but I never learned how to protect her from killers...
Will someone keep this garden alive? A question to God, my mother and the criminals...

The Sunset

The Sunset

Look to the sunset...
Look to the eyes of this small bird... he is crying because he does not know what to do!

What would he do after that his source of light leaves?
What would he do after that his reservoir of warmth hides in the darkness?
What would he do without force, without her?

Look at the sun going away!
Yes! He is sad! She is Lost in the faraway, but this cant stop him from thinking about her every moment...
Thinking how the sea waves swallowed her in the infinity...
How his warmth has turned to be just memories!
How his happiness has been destroyed by the wheel of time!
Who will reply! There is no mercy with the darkness's cold!
But no way to die! He loves life...
And on behalf of this love he prayed...
So he got the "one answer" that God made for every creature: "In the morning, the sun shines again"!

Butterflies Legends

By JCS

The Native American Indian Butterfly Legend

If anyone desires a wish to come true they must first capture a butterfly and whisper their wish to it. Since a butterfly can make no sound, the butterfly can not reveal the wish to anyone but the Great Spirit who hears and sees all. In gratitude for giving the beautiful butterfly its freedom, the Great Spirit always grants the wish. So, according to legend, by making a wish and giving the butterfly its freedom, the wish will be taken to the heavens and be granted.

Another Version of the American Indian Butterfly Legend

As a gift to His human children, the Great Spirit created butterflies. He took black from the maiden's hair, yellow from the warm summer sun, and blues from the lake and sky. Once he gathered the most beautiful of colors, He made them into butterflies. If you want a special wish to come true, capture a butterfly and whisper your heart's desire to it. Since butterflies make no sound, they cannot tell the wish to anyone but Him. Being so colorful, the butterflies will easily be seen and the heart's prayers quickly answered. By making a wish and releasing the butterfly, it will be taken on the wings of love to the heavens and granted. Softly whisper your wish for their eternal love and bliss, then carefully release and free the beautiful creature.

The Shoshone "Ladies Fancy Shawl Dance" Butterfly Legend

Many, many years ago when the Earth was still quite new, there was a beautiful butterfly who lost her mate in battle. To show her grief, she took off her beautiful wings and wrapped herself in a drab cocoon. In her sadness, she could not eat and she could not sleep and her relatives kept coming to her lodge to see if she was okay. Of course she wasn't, but she didn't want to be a burden on her people so she packed up her wings and her medicine bundle and took off on a long journey. She wandered about for many days and months, until finally she had gone all around the world. On her journey she kept her eyes downcast and stepped on each stone she came to as she crossed fields and creeks and streams. Finally, one day as she was looking down, she happened to notice the stone beneath her feet, and it was so beautiful that it healed her sorrow. She then cast aside her cocoon, shook the dust from her wings, and donned them once more. She was so happy she began to dance to give thanks for another chance to begin her life anew. Then she went home and told The People about her long journey and how it had healed her. To this day,The People dance this dance as an expression of renewal, and to give thanks for new seasons, new life, and new beginnings. The shawl in the Fancy Shawl Dance represents the butterfly's wings, the fancy steps and twirls represent the butterfly's style of flight. This is another reason you will sometimes hear the Fancy Shawl Competition Dance referred to as " the butterfly dance."

The Papago American Indian Butterfly Legend

One day the Creator was resting, sitting, watching some children playing in a village. The children laughed and sang, yet as he watched them, the Creator's heart was sad. He was thinking: "These children will grow old. Their skin will become wrinkled. Their hair will turn gray. Their teeth will fall out. The young hunters arm will fail. The lovely young girls will grow ugly and fat. The playful puppies will become blind, mangy dogs. And those wonderful flowers - yellow, red, blue, and purple - will fade. The leaves from the trees will fall and dry up. Already they are turning yellow." Thus the Creator grew sadder and sadder. It was in the Fall, and the thought of the coming winter, with its cold and lack of game and green things, made his heart heavy. Yet it was still warm and the sun was shining. The Creator watched the play of sunlight and shadow on the ground, the yellow leaves being carried here and there by the wind. He saw the blueness of the sky, the whiteness of some cornmeal ground by the women. Suddenly he smiled. "All those colors, they ought to be preserved. I'll make something to gladden my heart, something for these children to look at and enjoy."

The Creator took out his bag and started gathering things: a spot of sunlight, a handful of blue from the sky, the whiteness of the cornmeal, the shadow of playing children, the blackness of a beautiful girls hair, the yellow of the falling leaves, the green of the pine needles, the red , purple, and orange of the flowers around him. All these he put into his bag. As an afterthought, he put the songs of the birds in too. Then he walked over to the grassy spot where the children were playing. "Children, little children, this is for you," and he gave them his bag. "Open it; there is something nice inside," he told them. The children opened the bag, and at once hundreds and hundreds of colored butterflies flew out, dancing around the children's heads, settling on their hair, fluttering up again to sip from this or that flower. And the children, enchanted, said that they had never seen anything so beautiful. The butterflies began to sing and the children listened smiling. But then a songbird came flying, settling on the creators shoulder, scolding him, saying: "It's not right to give our song to these new, pretty things. You told us when you made us that every bird would have his own song. And now you've passed them all around. Isn't it enough that you gave them all the colors of the rainbow?""You're right," said the Creator. "I made one song for each bird, and I shouldn't have taken what belongs to you." So the Creator took the songs away from the butterflies, and that's why they are silent. "They are beautiful even so!" he said.

The Prison Of My Childhood

No right to go out…
No right to have friends, because everyone is intentionally bad…
The political parties are recruiting the youth groups, and planting their " revolutionary ideas "… they simply learn everyone to hate every other one… even they want us to die just to make their leaders more rich… and they want us to kill and be killed , while their children are staying away, surely for the preservation of the royal blood… who will govern us if they die ? !
Normaly they put criminals in prison… but in my case it was to save me from them…
I never faced life… what you are seeing now was the only thing i was permitted to admire, just to protect me from seeing the blood…

Surrounded by books, stories and photos… drowned by words, i learned how to describe the whole world and how to understand everyone…
Was it good ? Was it bad ?
I can’t answer by myself… but all what i know is that i don’t stop fighting day and night to leave… and live…