So today I went into a pharmacy with my friend Sarah, who shares my love for pharmacies, and as we were waiting in the line at the cash register, one of the workers at the pharmacies who was a girl probably in her twenties approached us. She asked us if wanted any help and we said that we were already done and waiting to pay. Then she started telling Sarah that they have a very good product for blackheads and make up removal. She took us to the lane were that product was and told us it was medical, not cosmetic. Sarah took it and went to the cash as I stayed there checking out other products. The pharmacist then came to me again and told me that they have a very good product for facial care and those black circles around the eyes, and she said it in a way that made me feel like I have oil fields around my eyes. I said I wasn't sleeping enough but then I thought to myself that I was actually sleeping relatively well which is kind of freaked me out a little bit because I was wondering what could be causing those black circles! Anyway I told it her it was nice to know about it but I didn't want to buy it just now.

So, after that we went to some clothes store and I was still thinking about those black circles so I went up to a mirror expecting to see something horrible, but to my relief there was nothing of the sort, I thought I was perfectly normal, el hamdu lellah! So I went to Sarah and told her that I was checking my face in the mirror because that lady freaked me out and she was like: DO I HAVE VERY VISIBLE BLACK HEADS? I took a good look at her face where blackheads usually appears, and I noticed that even though she was wearing some make up her face looked really clean of black heads!

Nonetheless, I'm still thinking of buying that black circles products, why? Because obviously the people who use these marketing strategies know what they're doing and with whom they are dealing… it's pathetic really

 Went to sleep, and although I've lately discovered the fastest way to sleep which is to block out every thought and shut your eyes, I still like the old way of drifting into my thoughts in the process before I actually fall asleep. Sometimes I feel like I'm falling off a cliff, something all of you are probably familiar with, sometimes reality seems to get mixed up with dreams and so on.

But last night was different.

As I drifted into my thoughts, these thoughts seem to have gradually turned into dreams and I was asleep. I heard once about the phases of sleep, and how when you reach the phase where you see dreams your muscles relax and you become immobile, which is something Allah in his infinite wisdom blessed us with because if it wasn't so people would act on their dreams and you might end up strangling your neighbor or throwing yourself out of the window.

So, what happened yesterday, as it seemed to me, is that after I started dreaming I began to wake up when I was still in the dreaming phase (which happens sometimes and it feels very disturbing), and my dreams seem to turn into thoughts, and I was thinking about death, and then I realized that I'm awake, thinking but unable to move, talk or even open my eyes with everything around me pitch black. I tried to speak or do anything but I couldn't, and for a moment or so I thought I was dead, until I finally uttered something and then opened my eyes.

Well, if you ask me, I felt what it was to have another chance, but it was hands down one of the scariest things I've ever experienced, although I don't believe a dead person sees nothing but blackness, and I sure hope it will be a peaceful experience.

As a child, I used to have that recurring dream and that I can still vividly remember. The sky was pink, an Israeli soldier was running after me, then comes my salvation: a ladder that leads to a cloud on which was the Egyptian actor Sameer Ghanem. Yes, I admit it, I was a fan of Fattuta (in my defense I was 5 years old or so). Have I bothered to figure out what that means if it means anything at all? No. Why am I telling this? Because it’s the oldest dream I can remember and in retrospect I find it a bit weird, I mean come on, the sky was PINK!

As I grew up I can’t say my dreams got weirder but let’s say there were different new features. Once I heard that there are two things you can’t do in a dream: switching the light off and turn around. So, there you go, I decided I should try it. And I did, I went to sleep and the next thing I knew I was in my dream, knowing that I was dreaming, trying to turn around and switch the light off. I know you might be wondering it worked. Well, it didn’t, but we can never be sure because the subconscious could be so tricky.

One of my all time favorites was that dream where my cousin and I were in a store and somehow we find ourselves in a situation where we were allowed to take everything we want for free. As we, in the dream mind you, were so busy packing things my sister stopped by in a go-kart-like car and told us that we were dreaming (what a buzz kill!). My cousin, in the dream mind you, was bummed. She was like: “Nooooo! Pinch me so I make sure” and so I pinched her and she was like: IK don’t feel anything! We are in deed dreaming!

That was something!

In another dream that I can’t remember anything of except the last part, my cousin and I were running and all of a sudden we realized that the dream came to an end, so I told her to stop right where she was so we can continue the adventure in the next dream.

But my favorite series of dreams was the one following Tawjihi. You know how everyone dreams that they are having exams after they finish school or college. In my case, it was freaking me out, seriously! Creepy nightmares in which I didn’t know the answers or couldn’t do the tests for some reason or another. So finally I could take it no more. I said to myself: next time, I will remember that it’s a dream. And so there I was a sleep and seeing myself in a room where my teacher was giving me the test paper. And then, before I started doing the test I stopped and said: Wait! This is a dream, I know it! I finished school! And so he smiles like sheepishly and says that’s absolutely right!

But recently, I must admit the most amazing thing happened to me in my dreams. A dream I had told me what I wanted. It told me what I was thinking, something I wasn’t aware of. It opened my eyes to reality. And that’s in my opinion is the greatest thing about dreams; they tell you the things you’re afraid to admit. They expose you to your own self. Your own fears and feelings. Not always pretty, but unlike reality, you cannot escape it and you have very little control over it.

Just don’t stretch it or over think it, and relax, I believe Paulo Coelho was being symbolic! So, Don’t take the next plane to Malawi or start digging in your Grandma’s backyard. After all it’s a dream, enjoy it while it lasts…

I was taking my daily walk, something I usually do with my mom and our neighbor in a quiet area that’s relatively new so, for the most part, there are either beautiful houses around or plots of lands covered with the colorful blankets of spring. A great place to get lost in thought.

As I was wrapping it up and heading home, I passed by an orange-colored villa that I thought it hasn’t been inhabited yet. But this time I heard voices, a woman’s voice talking to someone who turned out to be a child going out through the main gate of the villa and who was also saying something back. He seemed in a rather bad mood and something about him and about the house made me feel that he’s one of those little brats who bully other kids at school and that he’s just come to Jordan with his family after years of living outside the country. He really seemed to me like one of those annoying spoiled kids you see in Hollywood movies and TV show. Maybe because he was a little too big for his age, maybe it was his tone of voice, but whatever it was I made the fatal mistake, again, of judging a book by its cover.

He kept going in the same direction I was going, and as I got closer to him ,still thinking of the next mischief he might cause just by walking down the street, he suddenly turned to me and said:

“Watch out for the tar, it might not be dry, you better walk here [pointing out to the rocky side of the road] I always walk here, it’s safer”

All the time he said that I was still thinking that he was up to something. I thought he was trying to pull a joke on me like the things a six-grader might do, but I tried to be nice for I thought he may prove wrong, and he actually did.

- Oh, I better watch out then. But you know I think it’s dry, I walk here everyday

- I know! I see you pass by when I’m studying

- Really? What grade are you?

- Fifth grade, what grade are you in?

- Well, actually I finished school, I work now. What’s your name?

- Taj

- I like your name! Well, I’m Ola. It was really nice to meet you

And just as I greeted him and was about to split up he said:

- I’m going this way too, to my aunt’s house

- Well, we can walk together then. Does your aunt have children your age?

- Yes

- I have a cousin who’s my age too, we’ve been friends since we were 4. But she’s now in the States.

The conversation went on and then my mother and our neighbor joined in. We found ourselves sharing stories with a 10-year-old boy we’ve just met, and all of us couldn’t help but smile at how friendly and social that young boy was. I can imagine him sitting beside his window with his book, looking at passers-by and wondering who they are and what stories they could have, and perhaps think of a way he could invite them to his own world and strike an unlikely friendship with them.

This young boy who at the first glance I thought to be a bully, was yet another reason why I smiled at the 2 little neighborhood girls and greeted them cheerfully, and why I goofed around with babies on the street and the supermarket. This young boy is one of those people who stand by waiting for us to invite them into our lives, only we’re blinded by prejudgment and paranoia. But once in a while one of those people will force their way in, and that’s when you learn how rusty the lock on your door has gotten, and it’s about time you cracked it open.

I think I made it clear that I don’t like flowers and roses as a gift. I think it’s becoming such a cliché and is losing the sentimental value since everyone who’s anyone can get you a bunch of flowers on any given occasion; it’s the easiest thing really. Yet, I still believe a single rose may be a gift that’s worth a million dollars.

I was in the 10^th grade, and there was a little girl at our school called “Senarite”. Senarite was around 6 years old and was the cutest most adorable little girl. I liked her so much, and who wouldn’t? With that innocent face and sweet demeanor.

One day at recess, I was hanging around with my friends when Senarite approached us with a yellow rose in her hand, she walked to me, reached out with her hand and gave me the flower without uttering a single word. And I can tell you that you might question the intention of anyone giving you a rose, you might even refuse it or throw it away, but when it’s a rose from a child, it’s one thing to make you feel good  and to be cherished forever. That’s why Senarite’s yellow rose still lies inside my diary book until this day.

I haven’t seen Senarite for years, I can just imagine how much she’s probably grown up by now, she might even not remember any of this, but I know for a fact that she gave me one of the best gifts I have ever received in my life.