Friday, February 16, 2007

Archive: Weekend

A translation of a random thought that was inspired by the style of a friend. The original was written in Arabic at a time before joy and happiness flooded the world.

He opened his eyes at seven, then again at eight. At ten o’clock he made the long-awaited decision to “wake up”, still disgusted. He went through the motions of the human morning routine, and finished a chapter from “The Death of the Peace Process” while brushing his teeth. “Failure is a choice and a process that requires continuous build up and persistence. It is not a matter of fate or genetics”. He collected some items that need to be washed: a pillow case, a green towel, a pair of sweatpants designated for sleeping, and a colorful collection of underpants and socks many of which featured strategically- placed holes that made them relatively serviceable.

The laundry room reeked of cheap beer. He mumbled a few words in the direction of the group of juveniles scattered around the counters sipping from 32Oz cans. “Damn! That early!”, he wondered before remembering the forced extension to his sleeping hours. “Maybe eleven o’clock on an off-day is not a bad idea to proceed with last night’s activities”.

He rushed towards the TV and the computer, simultaneously. Quick and successive sprays of bullet(in)s: Attack, siege, trial, the third day of a Golf open. A column, an analysis, an Op-Ed, a luxurious apartment for sale. Deployment, arrest, assassination, a basketball team wins. “Damn! All that shit happened, even on the off-day! Do I have to care about everything happening everywhere! What is the acceptable minimum? How many critical events would I miss if I abstained for a couple of days?!”.

He conducted a few insignificant phone calls and headed towards a pseudo-grocery store to fetch two bad-tasting, ridiculously-overpriced meals. It is almost noon and his face still features a manufactured look of disgust. “Damn! It seems like today is going to be exactly like yesterday”.

He received a call from one of the last remaining friends. “How about we go….”. He interrupted the caller confidently: “No thanks. I’ve already have some plans scheduled and some very important commitments for the day. Check back with me in the evening”.

He went back to the two machines.

5 comments:

Omar said...

I enjoyed reading..

Roba said...

I enjoyed it as well, but just out of curiosity, why didn't you post it in the language you originally wrote it in?

Anyhow, as someone I love very much used to greet the day, "[insert word here] min 3alam."

On the bright side... fi ashya2 7elweh kteer bil 7ayah :0) Like food ;)

Anonymous said...

"The death of he peace process" was handy to my bog seat in my flat in 2000. The psuedo-grocerry is no longer there. A multi-layered friend stayed in the flat then. Eleven oclock is still too early in the weekend

Abu Shreek said...

Roba,
The reason I did not post it in Arabic is due to technical difficulties in using the arabic keyboard. (I can barely use the English one). I will update this post withing the next 6-8 months and add the original Arabic version.

Anonymous said...

Good for people to know.