Category: Under the threshold (writing fragments)

Beauty the fingers curl around chin, the left hand leans softly, and the gaze persists. The furrows in his face are old, but his eyes are young. the pupils, shaded from light, grow dark. Hair, white as blank sheets, recede towards the end. His tie screams: “WRITE! everyday! write everyday; it does not matter about… Continue reading chronicle of writing: day i

Iris Damascena, which grows on the Qaisoun Mountain in Damascus. One of the rarest flowers in the world

scene location: the bathroom in the bar facing the major plaza in Villafranca del Bierzo. characters: one man dressed in hiking pants, drenched in sweat. background info: Spain strives to achieve the highest light savings. the country has installed movement detectors that controlling the lighting system in the majority of the facilities, especially in the… Continue reading Camino chronicle

A squared bedroom. One wooden, beige door , old broken lock. One light bulb. White are the walls and its rays. One high, small, rectangular window in the middle of the wall facing the door. One big bed. Side bed drawer. Another lamp. Blue, and it matches the bed sheets: blue and grey stripes. Two… Continue reading One image 

The abyss will look at you, it will quote Yeats saying: “the center cannot hold. Things fall apart”. The foundations of your life fell apart earlier this year, you were making eggs for breakfast and running the list of things you have to do for today so you will be productive, when the idea hit… Continue reading the abyss screams back

The time was noon, and the sun was high in the sky that the shadow lost its existence. Crossing the trek from Tuqu’a to Arab Al-Rashayda, we walked through the desert, quite effortlessly for this trail goes downhill all the way. The winding narrow valley is breathtakingly beautiful. It was hard to imagine that this… Continue reading Still goats on the mountains (Abraham’s path)

The pungent smell of cardamom awoke me this morning while I walked to the holy Sepluchre where Jesus is buried. The old tailor in his old tiny shop right before the left corner on the way to the holy Sepluchre. The young man on the right side of that same curb who sells fresh orange… Continue reading A walk in Jerusalem II

I am sick of youtube videos telling me what to do and those short clips of how i should live my life and what’s there to woe Today I walked in Jerusalem bare-hearted and strong I left my heart at home for they said three men were killed today and two more too doors were… Continue reading A walk in Jerusalem

“It is an acknowledgment of the beauty of the universe, an acknowledgment the more sincere because it is not formal, but indirect; it is a task light and easy to him who looks at the world in the spirit of love: further, it is a homage paid to the native and the naked dignity of… Continue reading Notes while studying for my literature final

Frankenstein. Victor Frankenstein, how could you deprive your creation of joy and companionship? why would one create a thief only to punish him for being one? Frankenstein eventually kills his Creator, and then he kills himself. The modern man has killed God, or rather the idea of God, does that mean that the modern man… Continue reading Frankenstein