Shoody Something

“حياتك مجرد أحداث ، كومة من العناء ، حفنة من المضايقات يا صديقي ، لن تصفو كما تريد ، انها بشكل أو باخر تعني القلق ،القلق الذي ينهشك دائما ، القلق الذي يشعرك بأنك ما زلت على قيدها ، كأنها عبارة عن مسرح ، وأنت واقف على منصته ؛ هناك من ينتظر ظهورك ل يصفق لك ، هناك من لا يريد رؤيتك ؛ وهناك من أخذ يشتمك لأنك لم تمثل الدور الذي يعجبه ، هكذا تبدو ، تريد أن تنهيك ، وانت تريدها أن تستمر ، لذلك الصراع فيما بينكما يبدو طويلا ،لابد أن يربح أحدكما الاخر ، بقاؤكم على هذه الحلبة يجلب المزيد من اللكمات ، ولا تدري كيف تستسلم لها وتواجهها كما تأتي لا كما تتمنى .”
― رشاد حسن, حين رأيت صوتي

“أنا أرفض كل الثورات غير الناضجة”
― Ali Shariati, مسؤولية المثقف

“Their message will never be decoded, not only because there is no key to it, but also because people have no patience to listen to it in an age when the accumulation of messages old and new is such that their voices cancel one another out. Today history is no more than a thin thread of the remembered stretching over an ocean of the forgotten, but time moves on, and an epoch of millennia will come which the inextensible memory of the individual will be unable to encompass; whole centuries and millennia will therefore fall away, centuries of painting and music, centuries of discoveries, of battles, of books, and this will be dire, because man will lose the notion of his self, and his history, unfathomable, unencompassable, will shrivel into a few schematic signs destitute of all sense.”
― Milan Kundera, The Joke

“Who was the real me? I can only repeat: I was a man of many faces.

At meetings I was earnest, enthusiastic, and committed; among friends, unconstrained and given to teasing; with Marketa, cynical and fitfully witty; and alone (and thinking of Marketa), unsure of myself and as agitated as a schoolboy.

Was the last face the real one?

No. They were all real: I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces because I was young and didn’t know who I was or wanted to be. (I was frightened by the differences between one face and the next; none of them seemed to fit me properly, and I groped my way clumsily among them.)”
― Milan Kundera, The Joke