i think i am going to die soon.
four years. five years. maybe six. but not more.
do i have to reach a conclusion before the end? that i don't know.
maybe i should have reached a conclusion some time ago. because conclusions can help you decide how to avoid mistakes and learn from your experiences.
what good is a conclusion if you won't have time to make use of it? nothing.

i am not afraid of dying.
living is much more scary. much more difficult too.
understanding others and wondering if you really love them and if they really love you..
it is so much. i feel it is decaying my interior.
i understand god. i think. i know that he really loves me.
and i really love him.
that is the only relief at the end of the day.
when i lie on my back and reflect upon things, my inside is burning.
when i ask myself about home.
and about love. and about and about...
home is with allah. love is with allah. all is with allah.

yesterday i was wondering if i should run away. to australia. new zealand khalil said is nicer.
i saw a film, "whale rider". it was shot in new Zealand. wonderful scenery.
i wonder what is heaven like. i am not so sure anymore that i will go to heaven.
i do so many things just because i want to do them.
and i know i can avoid more things and do better ones.

in first secondary i was very happy with myself.
i had been detached from all people. could not care less about anyone.
all my friends were away. did not really care about being friends with my sisters.
may was in her final school year. she studied and studied. each one had his own stuff.
i was happy with myself because i was left alone with allah.
had nobody else to talk to. to ask of. to cry to. and to long for.
long nights. long prayers. it felt like i was home back then.

i wonder why am i the only one who feels this huge suffering from the war. and i don't even remember it very well.
do the other kids not care? are they serious when they go to all these events that only strengthen the hate feelings? could they be so shallow? or are they brainwashed?
or maybe they are so bored and need something to do?
how knows me? Not does know.

i have a nice house. and a nice job. maybe people envy me for this.
it feels good to have a nice house and nice job.
but nice does not have to mean you like it. to me, it only means it is O.K.
better than many scenarios i ever imagined could have been happening.
never thought at this age i would be living in such a nice place, with all this majestic silence, and all this privacy.
do whatever i feel like doing. without bothering anyone and no one bothering me.
and it feels better because i worked for it.

i think it is a blessing to live alone. i could live alone forever.
maybe it means i love myself more than should be. gotta do the measurements.

Vengo is a nice film. i like the song:
i come from nowhere
i have no landscapes
i have no homeland
with my fingers i can start a fire
with my heart i sing to you
and my heartstrings throb
i was born of love
i have no place
i have no landscapes
And I have no homeland

no homeland.
always on the move.
if it does not show on the outside, it must be the thing that is rocking inside me.a tempest. don't even know what the word means exactly. we had it in our literature. shakespeare said tempest.

today i hit all the tennis balls astray. very easy balls. very wide hits.
to the sky. to the net. everywhere but not forward.
the coach brought all the balls and stood by me.
we started practicing how to hit a forehand from zero again.

The film festival is at its peak. i wonder if they will appoint me director of that festival. that would be very funny. but if they ask me i will say yes. i hope my boss does not read this.
lauren came from the states to attend. she is quite happy i feel. a new bride. I know her through the internet. and know Cameron her husband, the same way. an e-friend is the term i think. she brought me with her a notebook. said the only thing she was sure I would be happy with is something related to writing.
i love writing.
oh. the screenplays.
the unwritten screenplays. the unfinished screenplays. they also burn inside me.
A horse. a horse. my kingdom for a three month screenwriting spree.

I am sad. this is a statement.
is it so easy to look sad. no. i must have said it like this.
it is so easy to look sad. it is so hard to look happy. but i must look happy.
looking sad does not help other people smile. i have to help them be happy.
or better say look happy.
me knows not why.
but me knows how.
a smile does magic. being kind does magic. but it is not easy.
it is very easy to be impolite. and rude. and kick asses.
it is very hard to be polite. i be polite. it is very hard to be nice. i be nice. it is very hard to be committed. i am not committed. not this stage yet. not committed me is to humans. not will be committed to any humans. committed is me to myself. committed is me to my beliefs. to god. only.
when my phone rings. it is close by me. i am doing nothing. all free to answer. i click on "silence". because i am not committed.
not "reject call". because i am polite.
then i call back. because i am nice.
and i apologize. because i am polite.
but i make up any excuse. because i am not committed.
to close people i say i did not feel like answering the phone. that is a privilege. when somebody is damn honest with you to that extent.
a privilege for me and for them.
having somebody to tell them this, and know that they will still call you again. will call you knowing that you may press "silence" again.

i have not watched silence of the lambs yet. i should add it to my list of next DVDs to buy.
it reminds me of Nadim.
when we were filming in 2000 for my student production, before each clapper Roubz or Chatzi would say "SILENCE!" and Nadim went, "of the lambs!" and we'd all laugh.
then Roubz or Chatzi would go again. until MAK shouts at Nadim.
MAK would shout at anyone. That is so unique about him.
I worked with him on lots of plays and films. and he would always shout at the directors.
be them professors, or students, friends, or whoever.

i want to put this on my blog. i am worried mommy might think i went crazy.
but am cool.
everything is great. this is only me. not me you know. me.

yesterday i got Gil Rossellini's autograph and was flying with happiness.
Rossellini.
i approached him and said, Gil, I want to have your autograph but i have nothing to get it on.
he said i will give you my card.
but i told him i want his signature too.
he said what is your name.
niam. i said.
he got his card. and wrote on it. to niam with love. gil.
i have the card near my bed. it is one of the most precious things i own now - speaking of film related madness of course.
wish i could see Mr. Bergman.
sad thing is that tarkovsky is gone.

oh. tarkovsky got me hired at aljazeera. but that is another story. God Bless All.