My mind is a labyrinth. I jump from thought to thought so fast I don't have time to process anything. Sometimes I think there's a minatour running amok inside. (Yes I love Greek mythology). My thoughts are somewhat haphazard and my mind somewhat cluttered. I think this reflects greatly in what I post. I'd like to think of it as organized chaos. I'm Sagal. I'm obsessively compulsively a perfectionist. I like to see the beauty in things, whether it's a person or a place. I hate conformity. I'm a firm believer in retribution. I have both misogynistic and misandrist traits - let's just say I prefer my own company. My forte is reading people, I am uncanilly precise in seeing people for who they really are. This is probably because I never take things at face value and love to question everything. I'm just naturally very inquisitive. However, I do listen more than I talk and therefore pick up things most people miss. You should try it - It's fascinating. I tend to take a dislike to people who are uninformed and have baseless opinions. Reading is my life. Writing is my passion. I love to be surrounded by books. Just the mere smell of one sends me into a blissful reverie.You can never read enough. And once you start pursuing knowledge you realize you hardly know anything at all.

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Every time a dictator falls from the throne of history, embellished with our tears, I clap my hands until they glow red. But back home when I turn on the television; another dictator flows from the mouths of the people… from a screen glowing with cheers. I die with laughter at my naive self; tears burn my eyes until they glow red. - Adnan Al-Sayegh 

Every time a dictator falls from the throne of history, embellished with our tears, I clap my hands until they glow red. But back home when I turn on the television; another dictator flows from the mouths of the people… from a screen glowing with cheers. I die with laughter at my naive self; tears burn my eyes until they glow red. - Adnan Al-Sayegh 

171 notes - 29 juin, 2012

Reblogged from - Sala Est.

Source - middleeasternpoetry

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    Every time a dictator falls from the throne of history, embellished with our tears, I clap my hands until they glow red....
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    أخِي سَوفَ تَبكِي عَليكَ العُيون, وتَسأل عَنكَ دُموع المَئين فإنّ جفّ دَمعِي سَيبكِي الغَمام, يُرصّع قَبركَ باليَاسمين
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