Another dry gust blew with profane anger. From behind the windowpane I saw plastic bags and scraps flailing the streets. The godless oppressive wind, flapping from the southeast then from the northeast, and infused with the sickly breaths of teetotaler pawnbroker merchants, and skunky with the sweat of racketeering hajjes, harassed the green trees in the coulee. They writhed, close to despair, then bent down only to protect their naked saplings.
The cold lashed and puffed with arid impotence. The chair upon which I sat, the bookcase and the nightstand by my side moaned with pain, their old walnut bodies crying for moisture. The shutters outside shivered in the grip of the grim reaper, almost giving up their hinges, when the inevitable sea-wind of fall came at last. It started to rain, slowly at first then with an orgasmic rhythm.
A big storm is on its way. I'm longing to walk in the rain, to wash away the grime that soiled the mind and the smut that tainted the soul. I don't wanna cover my head anymore nor pull up my collar around the neck. I just wanna walk and get wet. I wanna come clean.
Photo above courtesy of http://rapid-downloadss.blogspot.com
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
It all started when the television set exploded into a thousand pieces. I was tired after a day of give and take and was looking forward to having a beer in the comfort of my private hole in the ground. I took the elevator down to the basement where what I call my small barroom is located. I went around the bar to open the fridge and get a cold one when, splattered all over the floor, I saw the carcass of the TV set. After 6 years of hanging on a metal bracket, gravity got the upper hand and ripped the screws and bolt off the wall.
I had my beer anyway but was disgusted with myself. No, it wasn't because I had to buy a new piece of electronics at all. As a matter of fact I was looking forward to hanging a flat screen instead of the bulky box. It was just this feeling that my favorite room, the only one that I can claim as truly mine, because none of the others in the household like it, was in dire need of a face-lift. You see when I bought the flat (apartment) on the bones, as we say in Syria, I spent every penny I had saved on making it a cozy family home for 3 kids to grow up comfortably in. At long last when I wanted to dress up and furnish my 5X3 meter room I was virtually broke. So I made do on as limited a budget as possible and despite its spartan appearance Sile was by far my favorite place and sanctuary. Sile is a river in northern Italy and because of my affection for the city of Treviso where Sile flows I bestowed its name on the one piece of real estate that is truly mine and mine alone.
Over the years I wrongfully allowed Sile to become a dump for discarded pieces of equipment like a treadmill, or tidbits of furniture like a desk the kids no longer wanted. Even the Foosball table I was so excited to have at first became a burden and a piece of junk. I hardly played Foosball, exercised on the treadmill or used the stupid desk that nobody wanted. I only sat on my favorite stool and had my most creative moments in the bliss of my solitude and a drink.
Then my muse, oh I have a muse too, ran her slender hand on my cheek. You deserve better, she said.
Oh, I know, I told her, but what should I do? Where should I start?
What do you like best?
You, when you talk in my head, I replied.
Beside me silly old fool. Beside drinking. Think about it!
Uhhh, I like to read, I guess. With the country being in the palm of an Afreet as it is now and with very limited outdoor activities, I'm left with my reading.
And where do you read habibi? Yup after a couple of drinks she starts calling me habibi.
In bed, where else can I read? You know how it is upstairs.
Then bring your books and come read down here.
But... look at this place... it needs... it's awful and...
Shhhhh, leave that to me, she whispered, get a piece of paper and a pencil and let me show you what to do.
That was last month. Now Sile is done. I'm so happy with it. I mean h.a.p.p.y. as in really happy I want the whole world, well not all of it just those who read this blog and actually reach this point without hurting themselves, to see what a great place Sile turned out to be. This is a private club and only accessible through a personal invitation. Oh well, you are all invited.
PS Tequila Talking by Lonestar is a song that I've been stuck with during most of the remodeling process. So it's only appropriate to use it as background music for the attached video.