A Fate Resigned

I still remember that day when I first watched "You Know I'm No Good" for Amy Winehouse. At that time, I was just a young Egyptian girl who, like many Egyptians, know almost nothing about jazz. That day, I fell in love with the beats, the clip, jazz and of course that tattooed bold singer.

I had bad internet connections bad then. I did not know much about YouTube. I had just to wait all day long for airing her song. I can still remember the rush that I felt whenever I saw her video on the TV. Bold lyrics, great video with an unusual idea, great voice and lovely beats. By time, she got somewhat popular in Egypt. More songs were aired on TV and radio channels. Her music were excessively used in commercials and promos. The more I listened to her work, the more I fell in love with that phenomenon called "Amy Winehouse".

When I became more tech-savvy with access to the internet, I have searched for more for Amy. Like many others, I had to know about her problems and addiction. I felt sorry for that little girl; however, I never stopped admiring her. Even with all the stupid parodies, ridicule and massive media attention, I only saw that brilliant artist who, like other idols throughout history, had to deal with life's mischief in her own way.

I read the news of her death on Facebook and I could not believe myself. I actually wept while trying to comprehend what happened. I have never wept over a celebrity's death before, but I did that time. Not only I fell in love with her art once, she opened my eyes to that magical world of jazz. Whenever I listen to any of her songs, I can actually feel that her lyrics portray the ordeals any woman can ever face in that trivial world.

She was the one who said it loud "Love is a Losing Game." She had balls and stood up and sang "Rehab" while facing her own addiction dilemma for which she had been ridiculed and attacked till the end of her unforgettable life. She was the one who coyly tried to seek eternal love, when she sang "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?" Many other songs with amazing lyrics that sold millions of albums and captivated people's hearts for years when Amy did not release something new.

I wept when I saw all those sorrowful posts, letters and articles over her death. The woman is loved and she knew very little of that. While she was suffering of her own personal issues, people were competing to put her life through a lens, judge her, parody that fragile human being and call her a "drunk bitch".

I wept when I thought that that poor late lady saw all of that. The world gave up on her. It did not leave her alone. It did not help her survive. The world just behaved like an angry bully pushing constantly on her buttons.

RIP Amy Winehouse (A Fate Resigned)

What I Love, Defines Me 1

Back to frequent writings on my dearest blog. I sometimes believe that this blog is my best friend. I write whatever I want and nobody cares. It does not frustrate me, but it makes me feel that there is a place for me where I can be alone. With all of those links, ads, posts, photos and people everywhere and out of no where, nobody gives a damn about what that silly girl (me, of course) writes or says.

Well, I have been thinking of all of those very short bios, people write about themselves everywhere nowadays, like Twitter. It really amazes me the amount of creativity that pops out from ordinary people and not even celebrities. It is very tricky, you know. You have always to choose the right words to define you and catch people's eyes and make them think, "Mmm, interesting!" Apart from people's innate constant desire to get noticed and admired, I am actually impressed by how far people would normally go to polish themselves in front of the world.

You would find people saying funny stuff, a nice witty quote or an incessant series of megalomaniac phrases. It is very much like those signatures people use when writing emails. People work too much on labeling themselves instead of doing any actual work.

While I was roaming once on Twitter looking for interesting people to follow, a certain phrase actually caught my eyes. It was a journalist, as far as I remember, who gave a brief intro about what she does for a living following it with "What I do, does not define me!" I read this and she got me right away with that single last phrase. I thought to myself "Mmmm, interesting! and clicked the follow button right away.

That was a long time ago when I read that phrase, but it just crossed my mind today. I was thinking of those philosophical rhetorical questions that bore anyone including myself, but today, maybe I was bored already and decided to bore myself more for the sake of that total dam boredom I am experiencing. I thought about what defined me, how I perceive myself...., and you know the rest. Only then, I kept on saying "What Defines Me?" You can jot down a whole list of those things which do NOT define you. It is pretty easy to do so, but when it comes to figuring out the thing(s) which defines you, you might get lost.

Ahaa, I got it finally. "What I Love, Defines Me." Yes, I am fully convinced of that, and it is not the sentimental me who always talks silly Utopian stuff.

I am so sleepy now, I think I gotta go sleep my dearest blog.

To Be Continued....