Rock-solid

Disclaimer from May 2018: In truth, this was written about one month after the break-up in question, so I was still very much in the frankly unreasonable "anger" phase of the five stages of grief. After posting it back then, I rightly thought the blog post was too bitter to be published publicly, so I deleted it... and now I'm posting it again for the sake of completeness, but I'd much rather no one reads it, to be perfectly honest.

I'm declassifying it as a final symbolic gesture, if you will.

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I don't think you'll ever end up reading this, but true to myself and my need to write my inner thoughts where I can later access and re-live them, I'm choosing to write this post anyways. It isn't a bitter post I'm writing with manly tears streaming down my ruggedly handsome, bearded face- I'm over it, and I've been over it for a while... but I won't rest until I've expressed these feelings in some form... and to be honest, I don't think I want you or anybody else to read this at all, which is why I'm not going to share this post on Facebook. I just needed to get this off my chest so that hopefully in the future if I ever feel lost or nostalgic, I'll read this and realize why things never really worked out between us.

You never loved me.

Sure, you were attracted to me. I was a shiny trophy for you to start your collection with... but let's call things what they are; it wasn't love. Call it lust, call it chemistry, call it a double cheeseburger with extra jalapenos for all I care, but don't insult love by pretending otherwise. All those memes you sent me, claiming that "you're the one" and "I want you as you are with all your flaws" etc etc... yeah, these were lies you wanted to believe. You just wanted to live a fairytale love story, and I was the idiot with a God-complex and illusions of grandeur who wanted to make your wish come true.

You stayed with me during the oxytocin-fueled first months, when you actually felt that high and got "butterflies" in your stomach every time you saw me, as you liked to call them. You stayed with me as long as you could show me off to your friends as an older, charismatic successful guy with a job who pampers and spoils you. You stayed with me while it was all googly eyes and late-night chats. 

You stayed with me while it was convenient. You stayed with me while it was easy.

But when the shine was off the apple and you had to face the ugly reality... the reality that I was actually just a man -a simple kind of man, as it were- full of flaws and doubts and fears and expectations; you couldn't handle it. You preferred to throw away what we had rather than compromise, and that to me shows that you were not ready for me or for any kind of serious relationship... because guess what? Real relationships need work. If everybody broke up with their significant other over their first fight, the entire world's population would be single. I was prepared to radically alter my career path for your sake, but you couldn't imagine making a commitment as small as a promise. Yes, towards the end I was going through depression and possibly not dealing with it in the best way; and yes I was the first to express my doubts, but I still wanted to try until the last breath, and that's the difference between us. You quit. I didn't.

And that's why I'm quite positive that you didn't love me. I believe you thought you did, or that maybe you wanted to... but you didn't; because when you love someone, you can't imagine your life without them, and it takes a hell of a lot longer than two weeks or a fight for you to fall out of love and move on.

That's everything I wanted to say. Future me, please learn to be more skeptical when a girl claims that she's in love with you... at least until she proves it with her actions.

I believe we had something good. I won't insult all our happy memories by pretending we didn't... because we had some good times, and I actually did love you... and I'm not writing this to hurt you or to make you angry; this isn't some kind of petty revenge post... it's just me realizing some cold, hard truths I'd been selectively blind to. I genuinely hope you find someone whose flaws you're actually able to tolerate, but in the meantime if by some chance you should feel confused and decide to stalk my blog and happen to read this post, I want you to ask yourself, and I mean really ask yourself if 

you were ever actually in love with me... because I think our brief relationship needs real closure, not lies and cliches. 

At any rate, this is all academic. Like I said, you probably won't ever read this post, and even if you do, it's over and nothing is going to change that. I've made my peace with it, because this was completely your choice, not mine... I was perfectly clear about wanting to give it another shot, but you closed the door on that, for better or worse. 

This is the last blog post I will ever write about you; I've officially written you out of my life. Good luck; I wish you a long and happy existence with someone else.

And as always, I remain unshakable; you might even say... "rock-solid".

A Bittersweet Ending

One day,
Way in the future
As fate will have it,
We'll meet again.

I'll be a nerdy dad
Fussing over his kid's stroller...
Happily walking down the street,
My wife's arm hooked in mine.

You'll look vibrant
In a beautiful black dress;
Your make-up complimenting
The contours of your face.

And by your side
Will be someone who's merely
A shadow of me, but it's only fair;
My wife's a copy of you.

And as we draw closer
Walking our separate ways...
Our eyes will suddenly meet,
And we'll go back in time.

To when we were in love,
With not a care in the world...
We were so sure we'd make it,
But fate had other plans.

Your face will look different,
But I will still remember;
Your scent; your taste; your touch...
And the loving look in your eyes.

Those eyes will search mine
For any sign of residue;
Love, hate, lust, or pain...
Anything but indifference.

And I will find in yours,
The answer to my question;
Of whether or not you forgot...
And if I'm ever in your thoughts.

Your face will arrange itself,
In the approximation of a smile...
You'll introduce your man,
I'll introduce my wife.

And through the pleasantries,
Our eyes will still probe...
While we both try to mask,
The raging storms inside.

But then the moment's over...
And we part ways again.
It doesn't hurt this time;
We've both done it before.

And as I walk away,
You look back, but I never see it...
As I assure my wife
That you’re just somebody that I used to know.

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Note: the title has been changed from “Somebody That I Used To know” to “La La Land”, “Serendipity” and finally to the current title.

Eagle

Spread your wings and soar above,
Cast your shadow on terrified prey
Be it rodent or pigeon or dove,
They scurry for cover, or else they pay.

The majestic flight of winged death,
Power and pride in mortal flesh.
With every wing beat and steady breath
Spreading fear in the hearts of foes afresh

But the eagle was old and not as strong,
For time leaves a mark, even on a king
Dull talons and beak can not belong,
To the proud eagle, so he took wing.

To the mountain top, where he was purged,
The pain was such that he might die
But our friend persisted and thus emerged
Once more a king; and took to the sky.

A defiant screech shook heaven and Earth,
Terror in the hearts of lesser beasts
King of the skies, by right of birth...
The mighty eagle has been released.

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Eagles are amazing creatures... everything about them is inspiring and regal, but perhaps none more so than the fact that old eagles tend to pluck out their own feathers and break their own beaks and talons in order to sharpen them. It has always fascinated me that eagles can subject themselves to such pain rather than live as shadows of their former selves... or it would, if any of it were true. Eagles don't in fact do any of these things; this has been a long-standing myth popularized by motivational speakers which has absolutely no basis in reality. However, it serves the themes of rebirth and pride very well... also, it gives me a good excuse to be an insufferable know-it-all. Anyway, your suspension of disbelief would be appreciated.

The Center Didn't Hold.

Been a while hasn't it? Miss me yet? I'd always suspected that unhappiness is what triggers my creativity, and since I hadn't been truly "happy" in years, it had been a difficult claim to verify... but now after a brief interlude, I have a refreshing gust of miserable tailwinds in my sails and I can confirm that theory.

Right, so this blog post is very different; it's a song I've been working on since November... well, putting off since November. For better or worse, it's an almost 100% personal effort; I wrote the lyrics and wrote, played, recorded and edited literally all the instruments... and just FYI, I used a very low quality amplifier (a 10W LTD amp for any guitarists reading this) and my laptop's voice recorder to make all the recordings... and I can't stress how difficult the editing was as well, especially since this was my first time.

For everyone who's not that familiar with editing or how music is recorded in general; usually each track is recorded separately (guitar, drums, bass, vocals, etc.) and then compiled and glued together on editing software. The agony of listening to the song over and over to make sure all the instruments were in sync and re-recording some of the tracks tens of times because of a small mistake here or there is one that will likely keep me up at night for days in the future with this song stuck on repeat in my head like elevator music in my own personal hell.

The point I'm trying to make here is that the quality is not perfect, but a) this was more of a proof of concept to prove to myself that I'm an actual musician -so I had to forego superior quality for the sake of doing everything myself- and b) it's the best I could produce under the very strict $0 budget I've allocated for this project... so go easy on a busy corporate musician who barely has an hour or two to work on this stuff every day.

Anyway, now that I've lowered your expectations as much as humanly possible and hopefully shamed the trolls away, the link to the song is below, and you can see the lyrics below as well. Little did I know when I wrote them 6 months ago that they would prove to be eerily prophetic.

https://soundcloud.com/mahmoud-bondok-149713244/the-endless-loop

Before I leave you, allow me to give a shout out to Mona Bassel, whose angelic voice made this whole project possible and who is the only reason why the few of you who are going to actually listen to the whole song won't attempt a very messy suicide to escape the agonizing torture that is my voice. I also can't forget Mohamed Abo Hussein and Yehia El Sherbini, who provided helpful artistic suggestions along the way and whose feedback -while brutal at times- was invaluable.

And finally, don't try to decipher the title... it might not seem to have anything to do with the song, but trust me, it does.

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The Endless Loop

 <Verse 1>

She Woke up in the morning

Feeling sad & drained

Must have dreamt of him again last night

Like she does almost every night

Barely drags herself out of bed

Trying very hard not to think about him

Looks at her phone one more time

But she won’t be the first to break

<Chorus>

She will not be the one...

Who will beg for his love.

If he wants her at all,

He’ll be the one to call.

Deep down she knows he cares...

He will come crawling back.

All she can do is wait...

All she can do is hope.

<Verse 2>

Busy day at his work

But all he does is think about her

Her smile lights up his day

Her laugh is the music of his life

He can’t take this anymore

Looks at his phone one more time

But he’s too proud to ask twice

He will never be the first to break

<Chorus>

He will not be the one;

The one she will ignore...

The one that she’ll forget...

She’ll be the one to call.

Deep down he knows she cares...

She will come crawling back.

All he can do is wait...

All he can do is hope.

  

<Outro>

She will not be the one...

Who will beg for his love.

If he wants her at all,

He’ll be the one to call.

Deep down she knows he cares...

He will come crawling back.

All she can do is wait...

All she can do is hope.

 He will not be the one;

The one she will ignore...

The one that she’ll forget...

She’ll be the one to call.

Deep down he knows she cares...

She will come crawling back.

All he can do is wait...

All he can do is hope.