How's It Going?

Isn't that the most common of questions?
It's going well, to all those interested.

I haven't updated since the Zambia 1-0 match? Wow. So much has happened since then! Egypt won the CAN 2010 for the third time in a row! We didn't make it to the...you know...World Cup.

But today, I type here and we're two hours and a half from a friendly match with England. England, man...wow. I keep imagining Wael Gom'aa (the nation's top defender, nicknamed 'The Stone' which, in English, is a 'd' away from what should be his nickname in a number of matches) trying to defend against...Gerrard or Owen or Rooney and I just find myself smiling and going, 'HA!'. But yeah, we can make a good match. My ultimate hope: a 2:1 win for Egypt! Yeehaw! *goes to wear the cheering red and white cap*

I started college just this week. Interesting subjects, one interesting new professor. Rest are all old and just as interesting, I guess. I didn't 'miss' college that much, to be frank. And it looks like my Programming II course this semester is going to end up being much tougher than I ever expected...But I have a way of getting through the study life. Ever since fifth grade!

I'm listening to new music. This is the 'good' term I like to give the type of music I'm listening to these days. I shall confess then, these days I listen to her:

And more her:

And then a little bit more of her:
Why Kelly Clarkson? I seriously have got no idea! I guess I'm going into early musical senility! And I could have chosen any other mainstream artist but I went for Kelly Clarkson because...See, right at this point, I just draw a blank! Try out these selections from (in my own humble opinion) the ultimate pop rock icon of the decade (see what I mean about the early senility thing?): Walk Away, Yeah, Whyyawannabringmedown, Behind These Hazel Eyes.

These days I'm finishing this:
Great book, by the way. Stephen King's short fiction is so hauntingly good, sometimes you are forced to finish it just for the style rather than the subject material. For example, he's one of the few writers who can get away with orchestrating a short story around the idea of time. That's it, like a 20-page conversation on time called My Pretty Pony (what name for a Stephen King story too, right?!). And, even though the premise sounds incredibly boring and cliche, King manages to get away from the cliches and the boredom. And he entraps you in a style so surprisingly poignant for his 'regular' gore and horror that you must just finish the damn thing.

Nightmares and Dreamscapes also includes a short story called The Moving Finger. It's...ridiculously good and is very reminiscent of It somehow...But I guess 'ridiculously good' is (as Jeff would say) prezactly the right combination of adverb and adjective to describe it with.

Movies...Watched a ton of movies on the end-of-semester holiday. Best movies of my holiday hibernation time: The Blind Side, Zodiac, The Men Who Stare At Goats and (believe it or not) Julie and Julia (BON APPETIT!)

Well, I can't finish an answer to 'How's It Going?' without a bit of poetry...My latest creation that is so jumbled up and indecisive, it may cause your brain to itch upon reading...Okay, scratch that (what I said, not your brain). It's not that bad, if it was it wouldn't be here. It's called Bet (and yes, I could not find a better name):

Listen to the sounds of summer,
I can almost hear the daisies sigh,
Breathing in fresh summer air.
Summer is a queen dressed in the sun,
And dancing to the harps,
Of its feathery clouds.
Her scent is ever so nostalgic,
A mixture of so many things,
The aroma of hot barbecue,
Salty foam,
The scent of beautiful women,
Too bereaved to notice,
How inanely pretty they are.
***
Listen and concentrate.
For our elders used to listen too,
And lasted much longer than we will.
Ask me why I'm so sure and I will say,
We kill each other so much that,
On Doom's Day, there will be,
No one left to kill.
***
Sometimes I picture a dreamscape,
Of beautiful grass,
And interlacing hands,
And this planet's mass,
In a grain of sand.
***
On winter days one thinks of time,
The strange traveler on the road.
That cares to none and lives longer,
Every time we think it was just about,
To fatally erode.
***
Perhaps sometimes we are punished,
By being made to live longer,
And see much more pain,
Than we have already seen.
See a new face of Hell,
Somewhere we've never been.
***
I bet you the Earth's gold,
That you will live to breathe your next breath,
So are you up for the bet?
And maybe your very ignorance,
Is as close to your personal Heaven as you will,
Ever get.

Published at DeviantArt (with an incredible little feature from the amazing DeviantArt member ~gautman88) here.
And at EnglishSabla here.

See you on the other side...